Feelings Taste Like a Backyard BBQ

by JoyHeart

Summary:

The Library was just too strong, and Darryl bravely sacrificed himself to save his fellow dads.

Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately???) the Library liked Darryl's taste a bit too much, and decided that he might be worth keeping around to savor properly.

Darryl is lucky he is lovable for more reasons than his delicious meaty skin.

Notes:

Read the tags read the tags I cannot stress enough that you should read the tags.

Also a note if anyone noticed I removed the rape warning and changed it to a non-con elements tag... yeah i changed my mind I decided I didnt want to write that so we will stick with mainly non-con vore and I dont want Darryl to get hurt like that.

So this chapter is basically episode 21 of the podcast but the ending is rewritten. Next chapter will involve actual... I mean it's not cannibalism, the Library isn't human, but Darryl is going to be partially eaten, so please, honestly, do NOT read this fic if you are not into that. This is a weird, creepy, horrible fantasy, and yes some folks like that, me included. If you are not one of us, do not get involved. Save yourself now. Drive away with Glen, Ron, and Henry in the van and leave Darryl to his horrible voreish fate.

Chapter 1: Delightful

Feelings Taste like a Backyard BBQ

 

1 Delightful

             The Library had to admit, Darryl Wilson tasted better than most people, and he was very much looking forward to digging into that sweet, sweet skin again.

              He was going to savor it. He had rarely come across a mortal with such flavor, something really worth devouring. Savory, with lovely hints of sweetness, and there was so very much of him to taste! The Library was something of a skin connoisseur, and Darryl Wilson was a choice cut if he ever saw one. It was even possible that it was worth losing some of his precious literature, if only to have a legitimate reason to claim all that delicious meat for himself.

            Possible, perhaps, but not Likely.

            The Library had slunk under the strange metal wagon called a 'van' without much trouble, and the shouts of alarm from the dads upon his discovery had been truly delightful. It was also delightful to see Darryl spring into action, all that meat shining with sweat and dancing before his eyes. As they entered combat, the Library grinned down at the men from his full nine feet of spindly height, his multitude of limbs swaying in the air.

            The smelly one with the guitar was the first to try bargaining with hims. His quarry always had to try, it seemed.

            “Hey buddy!” Glenn Close simpered, “What brings you to the van?”

            “Oh, just collecting late fees!” The Library tittered, his grin nearly splitting his head in two.

            “Late fees? What late fees? We don’t have to turn anything in yet!” said Glenn. But the Library, as always, knew better.

            “Oh but I heard you. You can’t bring my books back!” The Library grinned as his eye on Darryl’s hand opened and winked at the man, who appeared oddly sick at the action. “The books aren’t in your van, I searched there!”

            Glenn cleared his throat. “Well, you heard wrong. The books aren’t in the van because they’re with us! And they’re not due yet! We're not done with them!”

            The smelly one in sandals piped up. “There’s a phrase in our world the youth have, when something is so good you ‘can’t even’! And it’s something of a sentence fragment, but we can’t even with these books. That’s what we were saying!” Henry’s voice was gradually rising in pitch.

            The Library laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so.”

            Henry's cheeks lit up in an embarrassed flush. “Now hang on a minute, isn’t there due process? What about the… the homilies corpus… uh…”

            The Library shook his head at the weak arguments. “The only corpus around here will be your corpus when I harvest your skin to bind into a book!”

             He wasn’t even going to consider using Henry Oak’s skin for food after smelling what was coming out of him in the van. That wouldn’t agree with him at all. But it looked pretty leathery, excellent for binding!

            “Now you are nothing but a man of rules, am I right?” said Henry, wagging a finger in the air.

            “No, I’m pretty sure I just do whatever I want, that’s sort of my thing. No one said to get a six foot tall backpack of books and give it to children as a pretense for possibly taking their flesh, but I did it! They said I was mad, but I did it!”

            Henry wasn't finished. “Now hang on! The due date is the date that we have to give those books back! You do not have any proof, other than not believing me, which is entirely subjective, that we do not have these books. There has to be some sort of way to establish that the books have been burned, or else your entire system falls apart!” 

            “A book review!” The strange, small man named Ron Stampler added helpfully from the sidelines.

            “If we give the books back, isn’t that fine?” Darryl seemed rather worked up. “See, I’m reading this one right now, and what’s the point of a due date if this guy can come by and say the due date isn't real?!  I don’t want to read this book anymore if I know at any point you can just demand it back!”

             The Library paused in his predatory swaying. That wasn’t a bad argument, actually. He hadn’t expected his upcoming rump roast to have enough of a brain to put together such a thought, and yet there it was. The Library would have to think about that one. He scratched his eye. 

            “What’s wrong with your eye?” Darryl asked.

            “Oh, I think you know very well. Blink blink. But you know what? It was worth it.” The dads cringed and made retching noises. “I would do it again!” Darryl looked down at the eye on his hand that the Library was sure to narrow into a flirtatious smolder, batting its eyelashes. Darryl quickly made a fist, his bashfulness quite endearing.

            The Library grabbed hold Darryl with his long fingers. He moved carefully over the flesh, measuring and testing the firmness of the meat as he searched for the slightest hint of a book on his person. He found none, though this was hardly a surprise. The Library hummed lightly as he ran over the hindquarters. “You don’t have any books,” The Library tutted, only to be cut off by Darryl’s awkward flailing as he batted the wandering limbs away.

            “I-I never said I had any books, buddy! Get your hands off me!”

            “I’m going to check each and every one of you, and if I can’t find any books, I’d say that’s pretty good proof you don’t have them at all!” The Library sing-songed, ghosting his finger over Darryl’s face cheekily and booping his nose. He then turned his gaze onto the other, less appealing men huddled in and around the van.

            “Well SIR if you’re done touching me and fondling my entire body, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!” The Library’s attention was easily drawn back to Darryl’s adorably offended voice. “Henry made a good point! We still have plenty of time to return the books! And frankly, in this world, I’ve seen people die and get brought back! There’s got to be a way to bring books back from ashes!”

            The Library's eye twitched, and Henry made a strangled sound. “A-ashes? What are you talking about?!”

            “H-he knows we lied!” Darryl confessed, wringing his hands. “He knows the books are gone! It’s fine, we’ll find a way to bring them back! Erin will help us! It’s not a big deal!”

            The Library’s breathing grew labored. His eye twitched far harder and he felt something pop, blood leaked from his tear duct. “Oh, the books are really gone, are they? That won’t do, that won’t do at all.”

            “Sir, I’ve met a lot of librarians in my day,” Darryl Wilson said, drawing himself up to full height, which still left him straining his neck to look up at the Library's face as it towered over him. “And you are the worst of them all.”

            “There MUST be punishment for destroying library property!” Darryl was earning a very special punishment indeed. 

            Darryl huffed. “That’s not in the rules! You didn’t tell us that!”

            The Library’s entire body erupted into cracks, pops and whistles as his bones straightened and curled in on themselves, trying to hold onto enough control to launch a proper attack. “Tell you?! I don’t need to tell you any- I don’t OWE you any- FUCK OFF!”

            “We’ve got one book over here!” Henry yelped, waving something in his hand from on top of the van. “We’ve got one here, just take it!”

            Glenn harrumphed and added, “Yeah, you want your book so bad? He’s got one of your books up there!”

            The Library squinted at Glenn and decided he seemed genuine. “Well, fine. I guess I’ll get one book. Seems you burned all but one book but I’ll get my ONE book. Piece of shit.”

            He sidled up to the van and reached for Henry’s waving hand. Just as he closed enough distance to get a better look at the thing, the sound of fluttering book pages washed over The Library’s ears, and that sweet old book smell wafted into his nose. Oh yes, at least ONE of his precious books survived these clowns! “Oh yes that fresh book SMELL!” The Library gushed. “Give it to papa!” He pinched his fingers around the object, the precious book, and pulled it from Henry's grasp. However, once he held it, he realized whatever he held was far too thin to be a proper book.

            In confusion, The Library looked down at two cards pinched together in his fingers. The first card had a picture of a throne on it, and suddenly the Library felt with indescribable certainty that he had somehow become more persuasive than he had ever been before. He also gained the sense that somewhere in the world there was now a castle that he fundamentally owned, though he may have to do some pest control when he arrived. Rather exciting! He had never owned a building before.

            The second card held the image of a gem, and as he looked upon it twenty five identical gems appeared at his feet. The Library didn’t really need money strictly speaking but heck, that could buy some new books. He also noticed  Ron Stampler lying amongst the gems looking dazed. He grinned down at the strange little man and, with his new edge of persuasion, said: “You should have brought the books back.”

            “H-how did I get here?” Ron whispered, shaking wildly, looking properly ashamed of himself at last. The Library grabbed Ron tightly around the neck drawing him up to meet his eye, nine full feet off the ground. Ron made some hacking coughs as his windpipe closed.

            “HEY! Put him down!” Darryl yelled, making a run for the Library with fists swinging. The Library held out two of his limbs, immensely pleased.

            “Oh Darryl, yes! I’ve missed your taste! Come to meeee!” The Library opened his mouth and his tongue unfurled across the ground like a red carpet. It wrapped firmly around Darryl as he tried to make a truly precious dexterity save. He managed to avoid the tongue with his feet, but Darryl had forgotten that part of his body already belonged to the Library. The hand that had once joined with the Library’s flesh grabbed Darryl around his throat, choking him and wrestling him to the ground in front of the monster.

            Darryl tried to use his good hand to pull the Library’s away. “Ah ah, none of that now!” The Library’s tongue rolled toward Darryl again, this time wrapping around his good arm and wrestling it to the ground as well. Delightful, he tasted just as he remembered. Maybe a little sweatier, but that just added to that wonderful musky flavor. Ooh, such a shame there weren’t more humans that could taste this good!The Library was so focused on the sight that he didn’t notice his grip on his other charge had slacked, and Ron had roguishly fallen on his ass and scuttled away.

            Glenn let out a war cry and launched himself forward, trying to attack the hand Darryl was choking himself with. That wouldn’t do, either. The Library unhinged his jaw obscenely wide and let loose a barrage of sharp pieces of paper at Glenn. They knocked the man backwards into the van and continued to assault him, ripping dozens of paper cuts across his bare face and arms. Henry yelped as the van rocked from the force of Glenn's impact, knocking him from his place on the roof to the ground where he, too, was assaulted by the Library's paper minions. The Library huffed, looking first at his prized barbarian thrashing against his crushing grip and then over at Henry, Ron, and Glenn, who were scrambling into the van to escape the attack. 

            The Library’s tongue vibrated, shredding a little skin from Darryl’s arm. Oh, that taste, though. He would absolutely make an excellent meal. And yet, would that really be enough? Surely after causing so much trouble the Library deserved more than a single good meal out of these fools.

            That's when the Library had a crazy thought. If he tweaked his own rules, he might just be possible to get a considerable bit more than a single meal. It was different than his usual M.O., certainly. It definitely wasn't anything close to his usual punishments. From one perspective, it may actually be much, much crueler. But didn’t this man deserve it for his transgressions? To not only have destroyed his books, but tried to lie about it? To dare fight back?

            The Library was a whimsical soul. Why not try something different for once? He'd only just been thinking the other day that he was in a bit of a slump with his usual book-lending routes. This would really switch up the game!

            Though in order for this to really work as he wanted, it would be best if they lovely Darryl agreed to it properly. Forcing him point blank wouldn't be as satisfying as having Darryl put himself on offer. Luckily, the Library recently became much more persuasive. He eased his grip on Darryl only slightly but the dad seemed to notice, twisting his head to look at the Library with confusion. The Library hummed, tapping a long, long finger to his pointed chin.

            “You knooooow Darryl, as much as I do relish taking the skin of any who destroy my books, I must admit I’ve found myself very particularly attached to yours!”

            Darryl cleared his throat best he could against the relaxed grip and forced out: “S-so what?! Y-you’re going to eat me? Fine!” Darryl swallowed hard, and the Library brightened to see tears in the corners of his eyes. “Just get it over with! But let the other dads go! Just take me as payment for losing the books if that's what you want. I won’t fight as long as you let everybody else go!”

            The Library blinked. “Wow, really? How convenient! I didn’t even have to persuade you!”

            “Huh?”

            “I was about to offer you that exact scenario! Same brain!”

            “H-hey, wait, why would you-?" Darryl’s heart hammered in his chest. The Library could smell his fear. As always, delightful.

            “Good news, boys!” The Library said cheerfully as his flock of sharp paper birds fell lifelessly to the ground, and the other three dads cautiously rolled down one of the van’s windows to peer out and listen. “Your lovely companion Darryl has bravely sacrificed his own flesh in good faith to pay all of your late fees!”

            “Wait! You can’t do that!” Henry gaped out the window. “Darryl, we can still save you! Don’t give in! I can’t handle being responsible for another death!”

            “Uh, yeah!” Glenn said, staring wildly back and forth between Darryl and the Library. “You can’t do that! I mean, kudos, super brave and all, but that’s going kinda far? Bad deal, dude.”

            Ron was quiet for a moment, then piped in pleasantly enough. “Thank you Darryl for your contributions to, uh, to this company. We, uh, we are sorry to hear you are leaving us, but will be happy to give you a positive recommendation on, uh, on future job opportunities.”

            “Future job- RON!” Henry looked about to burst a blood vessel. “If he does this, Darryl’s future JOB is going to be getting served with fava beans and a nice Chianti!”

            Ron seemed to struggle with this concept for a minute. “Well it’s hard to find a job in this economy, and I for one am proud of Darryl for sticking with it even if it isn’t his dream job. You gotta walk before you can run, Sport.”

            “Oh my god, Ron.” Glenn pressed his face into his hands as the Library dragged Darryl closer to him along the ground. He looked so delectable! Restraint Library, use restraint…

            “Look, just drive the van- oh wait.” Darryl looked back at the Library. “Hey, can I throw them the van keys? They’re in my pocket."

            “Oh certainly, I don’t need your ‘van’.” The Library released Darryl’s neck and used Darryl's own hand to slip deep into his pocket, feeling around in there until Darryl turned a delicious shade of red before clasping the key and drawing out. He threw the key with deadly aim so it flew straight in the van window and hit Henry in the forehead.

            “Right, so,” Darryl took a deep breath as his alien hand returned to his throat, though now as a warning caress. “D-don’t try to avenge me, just get out of here. Don’t borrow any more books. Save yourselves, save our sons. Save Grant, and tell him… tell him I love him, and I wish we had talked more. And tell Carol I’m gone. And that she can cash in my life insurance policy.” Darryl ended the sentence dully, as though the gravity of his situation had finally sunk in. Not that it really could, because Darryl had no idea the scope of his situation yet. But there was no reason for the Library to fill him in. Especially if it only worked to the Library’s advantage if he persuaded the other dads that Darryl was beyond their help. Said dads were currently in fevered debate, as always, doing far more talking than acting. This would definitely work to the Library’s advantage.

            “Lovely sentiments! Any other last words, or are you all ready to go?” The Library hummed, tongue scrapping against Darryl’s skin again, making the man wince in pain. Darryl was very cute as he closed his eyes, clearly trying to come up with some suitable last words. The Library’s tongue wrapped further up his arm, around his torso, getting a firm grip. He was certainly hefty, the Library was going to feel very full on the way ‘home’! 

            Darryl’s mouth opened with deliberation, and when he spoke it was with a clarity and conviction that the Library hadn’t expected. “Hey, Library? You may have got me, but I want you to know I’m cursing you. You're going to regret doing this to me. I'm gonna, uh, I'm cursing you that you'll lose ALL your books and die!”

            The Library snorted. Barbarians couldn’t cast curses. “Aw, that was so cute, I could just eat you right up! And you know me, I do what I want!” And before Darryl could scream the Library’s tongue recoiled into his cavernous mouth, pulling Darryl headfirst into his gaping maw. His narrow throat stretched wide around the man’s broad shoulders and wider stomach, pushing him down into his innards. From the outside, this looked grotesque. His skin and bones seemed to splinter and morph around the shape of Darryl until he reached the special pocket dimension of viscera and books deep in his gullet. The man's mass seemed to squeeze and vanish from view to the outside world.

            “NO!” Henry shrieked, trying to get out of the van. Glenn only just managed to hold him back.

            “Ron, you got the keys, right? You got them?”

            “I do, I got them!”

            “Drive man! Drive, drive, drive! I’m not turning into Library chow, dude!”

            “Oh, right! Only, didn’t Darryl lay down his life so the Library wouldn’t eat us?”

            “I don’t trust this guy! Plus, Henry’s going to go postal, and that’s gonna make him mad! Just go, it’s too late! He's gone!”

            “It’s not too late!” Henry wailed as Ron started the engine. “It’s not! He’s in there! We’ll rip that monster open! We can get him back! Where’s Erin? Erin can help! ERIN!” But Ron got the van started, and they tore away across the land, Henry’s screams fading into the distance. The Library patted his tummy with a smile. He didn’t really savor the flavor that time, but he would have plenty of time for sampling once he got home. 

            Deep inside the Library’s recesses, Darryl Wilson was completely immobile. He was squished between something soft, hot and pulsating, and something firm, hard and unyielding. He could breathe, but the humidity was terrible, and he was terrified that he would be showered in stomach acid at any minute. He hadn’t considered this possibility, that he could be swallowed whole. In this strange, secret and smothering place, Darryl whispered something else, deciding it made for better last words, even if no one else ever heard them.

            “Dad… I guess I’ll talk to you soon.”

Chapter 2: Marvelous

Summary:

Darryl arrives at the Library's keep, and the Library has a nice snack.

Notes:

So Darryl gets a little bit eaten in this chapter but he's fine physically.

Idk again, this fic is terrible for its content and I don't think I've ever really tried to write vore before but damn it I like vore and I'm trying my best.

2 Marvelous

            The Library hummed, rubbing his wonderfully full tummy as he looked up at the castle that now unquestionably belonged to him. He could feel it in his many changeable bones. It was larger than he had expected, made of white stone and in possession of many watch towers to be glimpsed beyond the high walls. A truly defensible structure. He certainly never had need for such a thing before, but he never tried to keep livestock before, either. He wasn’t sure how much space a human needed to survive but this ought to be enough for the supple, free range texture he liked so much. Shame it was full of monsters. The Library could see a few giant spiders crawling along the top of the towers and there was likely at least one Minotaur in the castle’s bowels somewhere.

            “Looks like I’m going to be doing some looooong overdue spring cleaning!” The Library announced, his many limbs flexing as he strode confidentially toward the drawbridge. It lowered itself eagerly in the presence of its awaited Master. 

            Meanwhile, in the Library’s innards, Darryl was bored. The Library had traveled on foot for the better part of a day to reach his new castle and it was becoming clear that the feared stomach acid bath wasn’t coming any time soon. Although he was snugly pressed into the stomach wall by the tightly packed books, he only needed to use a bit of force to kick around and get more comfortable.

           It was like getting a big, wet hug he couldn’t escape from. It wasn't good by any means, but not so bad. He could deal with it. At least until he starved to death or something. As he contemplated this the stomach wall pressed firmly against Darryl’s front started to ungulate.

            “Woah!” Darryl gasped as the wind was slowly squeezed out of him. Was this what finally being digested by the Library felt like?! But then the movement ended with a single, firm press that slid down the wall and over him. It was bizarrely like being stroked. A few more minutes passed and Darryl wondered if he should settle in for another few hours of boredom in the dark. That was when an unsettling squelching noise started from somewhere above him. The mass of books behind him shifted.

            Finally the Library’s voice rang out like a bell. “Oh, Daaaarryl! Where did you get filed away? I hope you didn’t suffocate in there!”

            “Hey! Let me out of here, you big weird, uh, spider guy!” 

            “Wow, ouch, definitely got me bad on that one. Found you!” Darryl still couldn’t see much, but he felt the unmistakable grip of spindly fingers curl around his biceps. With a fierce tug, Darryl was yanked free from his prison, up and through the tight tunnel of the Library’s throat. He was thrown down onto a cold stone floor where he lay prone, coughing and sputtering. He was positively dripping with a slick goo, too thick to be only saliva.

            “Did you just throw me up? That’s nasty!” Darryl struggled to get onto his knees, sliding around in the viscus substance.

            “Would you rather have come out the other end?” The Library asked, and Darryl grit his teeth.

            “Not really.”

            “Thought so, hot stuff. Anyway, go ahead and look around your new home! May as well get comfortable before dinner time!” Darryl stared at the Library from the floor. It probably wouldn’t be easy to punch his way out of this.

            He turned his head carefully to take in the room. They appeared to be in a traditional, if abandoned, great hall not unlike what one might see in one of the many medieval themed TV shows on Netflix and HBO. The floor had a long, dusty carpet running up the center toward a  high table. Threadbare, faded banners hung limply on the white stone walls. It was dimly lit by a few candles, and if Darryl squinted, he could see the bloodied corpse of a half-eaten giant snake lying near the far wall.

            “Didn't feel like cleaning this last century?”

            “It’s a recent acquisition, a gift from your friends, if you'll recall! Bit of a fixer upper. But you look like a handy sort of man. A do-it-yourself kind of fellow, if I’m not mistaken!”

            “Uh, yeah I guess.” Darryl finally managed to get to his feet, though his legs shook under him and he stumbled a couple of times. “Wait, did you say this was my new home? You can’t just keep me here!”

            “Oh I do believe I can, since you and your friends destroyed my library books! Think of your entire body as collateral. And since there's nothing to return, I get to do with you as I see fit. That's the law of the Forgotten Realms!”

            “But that’s not fair! This world and slavery, man. All of you need to have a long talk with one of MY favorite daddies, a great man named President Abraham Lincoln! And uh, maybe don't talk to my other favorite daddy George Washington. I don't know if I want that guy on my team anymore actually, it's complicated.” Darryl ran a hand frantically through his hair, rambling as he tried to think of a way out. This was not how it was supposed to go! He had to get Grant back! “There’s got to be something I can do to get out of this!”

            “Hmm, well tell you what. Just for you, if you hand over those books you borrowed right now, I’ll let you go with no questions asked!”

            “B-but you know I can't do that!”

            The Library shrugged. “Then you’re stuck here. This is your life now! I’ve never had a pet before, but I’ll do my best not to neglect you too much.”

            Darryl could feel sweat dripping down his back, at a loss of what to say to that assertion. He then performed an about-face and started walking directly toward the giant doors at the end of the hall. He tried frantically to think. He had no idea where he was, or what the Library had planned for him. He assumed, since he wasn’t dead yet, that he was going to be used as a slave. Maybe he would just be cleaning the place? Kind of a big job, but it would give him a chance to learn the layout, maybe find some secret passages? He just needed to play along for a bit.

            Darryl nearly jumped out of his skin when a skinny arm slipped around his back and dug into his back pocket. “H-hey, quit it! Only my wife can do that!”

            “Your wife that’s divorcing you, you mean?”

            Darryl’s heart skipped a beat. “How do you know about that?” At Darryl’s words, his right hand rose in front of his face and a giant eye blinked at him from the center of his palm. He made a face. “Quit doing that, it’s creepy!” he whined.

            “Ask a silly question, get a creepy answer!”

            “That doesn’t even make sense!”

            “So, do you want a tour? I only just added the floor plans to my collection of knowledge. And since you're also a part of my collection, I’d be happy to share that knowledge with you!”

            Darryl let out a shaky sigh. He knew that this was bad. If he wanted to get out of here, he had to take scope of the field before he made his play. “Yeah, a tour would be good.”

            “Marvelous! Off we go!” The Library strode forward confidently, dragging Darryl along for the ride. Directly outside the great hall was an expansive courtyard ringed by high, thick walls and rounded watch towers. Several smaller buildings were built against the walls as well. The Library helpfully ran a commentary, explaining what each building would have been used for in the keep’s heyday. There were small homes for the castle's servants and staff, storage houses, stables, even a small jail that apparently wasn't the same as the castle's dungeon. The ground of the courtyard was barren and dry, but the Library insisted the soil could be revitalized to make a garden, if Darryl wanted to try gardening at some point.

            “Not really my thing,” Darryl replied awkwardly to the Library's offer.

            “Hmm, no. I suppose a barbarian like you would be more into hunting?”

            A flashback to a dying turkey and his dad's arm around him forcefully entered Darryl’s head and he fought a shudder. “Not hunting either.”

            The Library hummed but didn’t comment further, instead steering Darryl to the barred front gate. The drawbridge was firmly shut.

            “This is the only way in or out of the castle!” The Library grinned. “I don’t need to tell you that if you try to leave without permission, there will be horrific punishments in store!”

            “Uh huh,” Darryl gave a tiny nod. His mouth was like a desert as he was turned back toward the door into the main hall and the castle proper. Beyond the main hall were kitchens, an armory, more servant’s quarters, and the royal bedroom. The royal bedroom looked worse than the rest of the castle. Most of it looked run down and abandoned, but the royal bedroom appeared ransacked. Everything of value had been stripped from it long ago. After this brief tour, Darryl was brought back to the main hall and got a closer look at the partially eaten snake monster on the floor. “Hey, so, was that lying there when you got here, or…?”

            “Huh? Oh right!” The Library laughed. “I must have gotten distracted, silly me!” Darryl watched in horrified fascination as the Library descended on the corpse, jaw unhinging as he set to work swallowing the rest of the body whole. Darryl felt vaguely ill as the throat and upper body of the Library flexed and swelled, and then abruptly flattened back out again. “There! Not the highest quality cuisine, but it’s the fastest way to clean up after a good slaughter!”

            “Oh my god, is that what it looked like when you swallowed me?” Darryl asked, voice going up several more octaves than usual.

            “Hmm, prrrrobably!”

            “That's so nasty. Wait, do the other dads think I’m dead?”

            “Again, prrrrobably!”

            Darryl was starting to get annoyed. “Look, pal! I get that you don’t have any moral values, but you’re being a dick! People make mistakes and it’s not cool to pretend to kill someone and then kidnap them just cause they accidentally let an angry witch get at their library books! I don’t even know what you want from me! Am I a slave? Am I supposed to clean this place?”

            “Hmmm isn’t it obvious?” The Library strode toward Darryl and leaned over him with a vague air of menace. “I already told you, I think you have marvelous taste!”

            Darryl pushed past his fear and reached into his well of bravado. He stood up on his tip toes, shoved his face in close to the Library’s, and put on his best glare. “What the fuck does that mean, huh? Are you gonna eat me? Cause if you are, kind of seems like a waste of time to be showing me around the place!” Darryl moved in close enough that his lips were more or less on top of the Library’s. “Tell me what you want!”

            The Library blinked, but didn’t back up. “Maybe you should tell me what you want, sweetheart. This is a pretty compromising position you just put us in.”

            When Darryl responded, his tongue was basically inside the Library’s mouth. “What do you mean compromising position? I’m intimidating you with my argument skills! I do this with the other dads all the time!”

            The Library took a moment to process this information, but that was taking some time as the taste of Darryl’s tongue was definitely doing things to him. “Well, it’s definitely a unique tactic. You’ve got my attention. Tell you what, you show me some more of your ‘intimidation skills’ and I may even make this next part fun for you, too.”

            Darryl frowned in confusion, backing up a step. “Um, I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

            The Library cocked his head to one side. “You don’t think what you were doing was…? You mean you weren’t trying to…?” The Library’s mouth worked silently for a few seconds before he spread his hands helplessly. “I mean, okay, if you weren’t trying to seduce me I guess I’ll just start harvesting you with reckless abandon!”

            “What? Harvest? SEDUCE?! I’m not- I don’t want- NO!” Darryl sputtered and stumbled backward, tripping over a dislodged stone and falling on his ass. He tried to crab walk away, but his alien hand disobeyed him, instead grabbing his opposite wrist and wrenching both hands up over his head uselessly, pinning him to the ground.

            The Library’s mouth was opening wide, his tongue rolling out and slithering toward Darryl as the monster grabbed hold of the human's frantically kicking legs. “Now, don’t struggle too much. It might make me lose control and actually kill you. That would be quite a shame!”

            Darryl’s chest rose and fell quickly, his heart racing as the monster’s tongue ran up his leg and under his shirt, rubbing against his stomach. It scraped like a bed of razors blades, and threatened to break through his skin.

            “Stop!” Darryl gasped as the tongue pressed down harder, scraping more flesh away. “Stop, you’re going to rip me open!”

            “That’s the plan!”

            "This isn’t happening.” Darryl’s eyes filled with tears of agony as his torso felt like it was being dug into by a hundred tiny potato peelers. He was being ripped into pieces layer by layer. He made the mistake of glancing down and his stomach heaved painfully at the sight of pink muscle exposed to the air. “You said you weren’t going to kill me! This is going to kill me!”

            “No it won't, don't worry. If there's one thing I'm an expert at, it's taking people's flesh!” The Library giggled, one of his free limbs digging down deep into the exposed muscle and grabbed a hearty piece of the pink meat. He pulled at it roughly, slicing at it with his sharp tongue, heedless to Darryl's endless screams and begging for him to stop. It wasn’t long before the flesh separated in a brief spray of blood and breakage of sinew. The Library eagerly put the hunk of meat in his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the experience.

             “Oh, yes this is perfect,” the Library moaned, and if Darryl wasn’t overcome with agony, he would have been far more alarmed by how sexual that moan was.

            Darryl could only shut his eyes and prayed to God to carry him through this; that it would be over soon and that his soul would be safely delivered to heaven. The sensation in his nerves numbed over when it reached the threshold of suffering, but even as his brain blotted out the pain, he could still feel the ghastly sensation of bits of himself being moved, manipulated, and severed from him. Closing his eyes didn’t block out the sound of chewing, and the sickening groans of pleasure from his captor.

            Then there was a pause in the assault, and Darryl shuddered as a fingernail traced the side of his face down his neck. “P-please…” Darryl whimpered, pleaded.

            “Please, what?” The Library asked, voice still damnably light as Darryl's blood dribbled down his chin.

            “Please don’t kill me. Don’t eat me… please…”

            “Well, I'm not planning to kill you, but I’m definitely going to keep eating you. You taste too good, it would be a waste not to! Also, that's the entire reason I'm letting you live at all so, yeah. But I guess I should probably leave off for now. Too much of a good thing, and all that! Wouldn't want to bite off more than I can chew!” The Library laughed, and Darryl was left wrecking his throat with another hoarse scream as the Library’s hand dug into his ruined stomach and a white hot fire blazed through him.

             But the fire passed quickly, and Darryl looked on in wonder as the Library’s hand drew away and his stomach was left glowing, stitching itself back together and leaving smooth, albeit raw skin in its wake.

            “Healing touch!” The Library tittered, wiggling his glowing fingers. Darryl let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and relaxed against the ground, weak and boneless. He barely noticed he had regained control of his arms. He couldn’t even think about lifting them.

            “God this blows,” Darryl mumbled on the cusp of passing out. In his fading awareness, he felt himself being gathered up into many deceptively strong, skinny arms and lifted as easily as a baby. He only barely remembered ever being carried like this before, back when his own dad used to carry him in from the car after he pretended to fall asleep. The last thing Darryl heard before his exhaustion overcame him was the Library humming something that sounded strangely like a lullaby.

Chapter 3: Amazing

Summary:

The Library goes to grab Darryl some dinner, and Darryl wanders off and gets into trouble.

Notes:

Just a lil vore at the end of this chapter, but there's some gore still. I'm trying to practice beating the shit out of Darryl. Is it working?

3 Amazing

            The Library set Darryl’s unconscious body on the dusty single bed in the miraculously untouched bedroom formerly belonging to the king’s manservant. It was close enough to the royal bedroom that one might have assumed it would’ve also been ransacked many years ago. The furnishings however, while sturdy and in good condition, were bland enough and heavy enough that they weren't worth the trouble of looting. The room itself was the same small size as other servant bedrooms, affording perhaps enough space for two single beds and a small wardrobe. The benefit of being the king’s manservant seemed to be having the room to himself, the space for a second bed replaced by a sturdy oak desk where paperwork would have been done, and two small, narrow windows affording rare natural light at certain points of the day. Darryl wouldn’t have a hope of fitting his heavy-set body out of them, and aside from the dust, this seemed like a good spot to keep the Library’s new pet while he was busy with rehabilitating a good spot for his book collection. He was rather excited about being able to see all his books at once, he had quite lost track of how many he had.  As he was about to leave the room, however, he heard the sharp rumble of Darryl’s newly healed stomach.

            “Oopsie! Forgot these things need to eat, too!” The Library tapped his foot, wondering where he would get something for his human to eat. The garden wasn’t going to grow much for a while. The kitchen, from what he had seen, would be usable if a bit unsanitary at the moment. The cupboards, however, contained naught but long solidified and moldy foodstuffs, and none of that would help Darryl maintain his health and appeal. If the Library was going to keep Darryl for the long haul, he would have to keep him healthy. He did recall having a few books on the care and keeping of slaves, and of farm animals. “Looks like I’m going to be doing some light reading and some hard shopping!” The Library trilled as he considered the unconscious man on the bed. “Should I maybe leave a note?” He glanced at the desk, which held some ancient papers and ink. He could probably make it work but, then again, why should he bother? “Naaaah, I’ll just leave him alone and watch what he does. It’ll be good for a laugh!”

            With that, the Library spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him carelessly enough that it bounced open again, and he didn’t even bother to fix it. He had been pretty thorough about clearing out the castle anyway, no more snakes and spiders and lizard beasts. He hadn’t found a Minotaur anywhere, but it was probably down in the labyrinth under the castle somewhere. Even with the map of the maze at the Library's disposal, it was going to be a pain flushing it out. And there was no way Darryl would end up down there, so what did it matter if he didn’t warn him about it? The Library strolled leisurely out of the castle gate, closing the drawbridge behind him with a wave of a limb. When he set out for the nearest village, he did so with a book in his hand and whistling a cheery tune.

            The Library did not, for all his book learning, spare a thought about the structural integrity of very old castle floors that were built over labyrinthine basements.

*

            Darryl woke up with a start, knowing he had been having a nightmare but only holding onto the fading memory of relentless chewing noises in his ears. He sat up with his heart thudding in his chest. The lack of familiar surroundings did nothing to soothe his nerves.

            “Oookay Darryl. Calm down. You’re in a small, kind of boring room you’ve never been in. It’s fine. You’ve got your clothes on. You haven’t pissed yourself. You aren’t hung over.” He did remember the events with the Library. They were kind of hard to forget. But his stomach had fully healed over by this point, and he didn’t know where he was. So a small spark of hope welled inside him that maybe, just maybe, that Library business was just part of his awful nightmare. “Hello?” Darryl tried asking loudly as he got off the bed. It felt strange to wake up with shoes on, he hadn’t done that since his one year of college. He headed out the open door into the empty hallway, and his heart started to sink as he began to recognize the white stone of the walls. He peered into the decimated royal bedroom with it's wide broken windows and groaned.

            “Fuck. Fuck, of course that was real. Shit and fuck.” Darryl twisted his fingers into his hair, which was getting pretty shaggy in the Forgotten Realms, and tugged on it ruthlessly as though that would help him make sense of his situation. Darryl walked further into the bedroom, the wood planks on the floor creaking under his weight. He spun in a circle, arms folded. “Well, where is the guy?” A thought occurred to Darryl. He held up his right hand in front of his face and searched it carefully for signs of that creepy eyeball. For once, unfortunately, his hand looked normal as ever. Well, couldn’t hurt to try. “Hey, fuck face! Can you hear me?” His hand remained normal. Darryl growled. “Library! Get over here! I’m fucking starving, and I deserve some answers! Where are you, you stupid piece of shit?!”

            It seemed insults were getting him nowhere. Darryl slapped the back of his right hand with his left, as though it were a malfunctioning cell phone. “HEY! I’M TALKING TO YOU!” In a stupid last-ditch effort to get the Library’s attention, Darryl decided to use his barbarian strength to punch the stone wall. This was a bad move on two counts. The first was that it left Darryl’s hand in a great deal of pain, to the point where he wasn’t sure hadn't cracked one of his knuckles. On the second count, Darryl’s increased strength sent just enough of a vibration through the wall and into the floor that it resulted in the floorboards, which had already been bending under Darryl’s weight, splintering in half. With a sharp scream, Darryl fell through the floor and down into the basement level of the castle.

            Darryl sat up, holding his head in his hands and couldn’t move for a minute out of dizziness. When he did look up, his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see he was in a very long stone hallway. He couldn’t see the ends of it, there being no light whatsoever aside from the soft grey daylight from the hole above him. He thought he could see a few offshoots from the hallway in gloom, but he didn’t want to go wandering off to check them out. However, jumping up and down proved fruitless as he could not reach the ceiling, and he couldn’t scale the wall at all either. Even if his right hand didn't hurt so much, he wouldn't have had much luck. He looked back down at said hand to see that the eyeball had finally reappeared, and seemed to be looking at him with disappointment. At least insofar as a single eyeball could manage that expression on its own.

            Darryl did not let that deter him from making a stink. “Well asshole, I hope you’re happy! You left me alone in a castle so old it’s falling apart, and I fell through the floor! Good going! If this was a historical tour, I would be suing the pants of your tour company right now.” The eyeball twitched, then started blinking rapidly. Darryl stared blankly for a minute before he realized there was some sort of pattern to the blinking, but he didn’t know how to read it. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I’m not following here!” The blinking stopped, and now the eye looked annoyed. Darryl sighed. “Alright, so, one blink for yes, two for no. Got it?”

            There was a pause, but finally one definitive blink.

            “Okay, so, you can hear everything I’m saying, right?”

            Blink.

            “You saw me fall through the floor?”

            Blink.

            “Did you hear me screaming at you before that?”

            Blink.

            “What the fuck! And you didn't answer me? What’s wrong with you?!”

            Blink Blink Blink.

            “Don’t bat your eyes at me, asshole!”

            Blank stare.

            “Alright, fine, so you know where I fell through the floor, then?”

            Blink.

            Darryl’s breath hissed out through his nose. “Right. So I should just stay here till you come get me, huh?”

            Blink Blink.

            “Uh, you know two blinks means no, right?”

            Blink.

            “So what, I should go wandering around down here like an idiot?” Two blinks. “Okay, do you know another way out, then?” There was another pause, then the eye looked to the right. Darryl followed the line of sight down the darkened corridor and realized what the Library was saying. “Oh, I can follow your eye to the exit!” After one, definitive blink, the eye returned to its position. When Darryl turned right and held his hand in front of him, the pupil swiveled to face the darkness beyond. Darryl headed in that direction, but within a few feet the blackness closed in around him.

            “Uh, yeah, I can’t see your eye anymore bud- AH!” Darryl yelped as the eye in his hand suddenly lit up yellow like a cat’s eye in a camera flash, blinding Darryl for a second. After rubbing at his own eyes for a minute, the light in the Library's eye had died down to a level more akin to a shade-too-bright phone screen. It sucked to look directly at it, but at least Darryl could see it without retina damage. If he held his hand up and down the hallway, he could even light it up a little, like a shitty keychain flashlight. If it meant not sitting at the bottom of a hole for possible hours, Darryl would make it work. He set off into the dark, following the glowing eye on his hand.

            “You know, this is kind of like Pirates of the Caribbean,” said Darryl after about thirty seconds of silence. “Did you see that? Did you get that one in the Forgotten Realms?” Darryl looked down at his hand, which glared at him, blinked twice, and then looked sharply to the left. Darryl turned down the left side corridor he had been about to pass by and went on.

            “Well it’s a movie about pirates, and this one pirate named Jack Sparrow- he’s played by Johnny Depp, who’s problematic now, but uh, at the time he was cool. Anyway he has this compass that takes him to magic pirate gold, and in later movies takes him to what he wants most, so that’s cool. But this is kind of like that.” No response from his hand. “I mean you’re just taking me to the exit of this basement instead of a dead pirate's heart I guess, but yeah.” Still nothing. Then Darryl remembered he had to actually look at his hand to get a response. When he checked, however, he found the eye blinking rapidly and rolling in all directions. “Oh geez, did I break you? What-“the eye looked straight at him, then ahead of him into the dark a couple times, then blinked twice. Darryl squinted. “Are you… are you saying don’t go that way? Why the fuck would you say it like that! I-“

            There was a snort that echoed around him. Darryl froze. In the ensuing silence, he could hear heavy breathing that was most certainly not his own. Darryl started backing up, staring wide eyed in the direction of the unexplained noise. “Oh. Oh fuck. Oh shit! I thought you cleaned out the monsters!” Darryl’s voice had dropped into a hiss as his eyes darted back to his absolutely garbage GPS. The eye kept swiveling and Darryl groaned, holding it up to try to get a glimpse of exactly what he was about to get snapped in half by. When he saw it, he nearly shit bricks. “You have GOT to be kidding me!”

            Darryl had shone his eyeball penlight at the ground first, and found a pair of very large, human feet. These were attached to extremely well-defined ankles and calves, the thickest thighs Darryl had ever seen. Hanging between those was a huge effing penis that Darryl tried and failed not to stare at. It wasn't distracting enough to stop him from noticing the fucking twelve pack of abs though, or the beautifully sculpted arms and shoulders. It definitely wasn't enough to miss that this whole ensemble was topped off with a massive bull's head, just sitting there and snorting like some fucked up Egyptian god, eyes glittering red in the dim light, it's prominent teeth sharp and glinting. The monster was a Minotaur, and on one level Darryl had heard about those, but in the moment the name escaped him.

            “Fuck! It’s that half man, half bull, queen fucked a bull, Greek mythology fucked up thing!” Darryl babbled, “Doesn’t that eat people? Fuck! FUUUUUCK!” The Minotaur lowered its head, highlighting a wicked set of gleaming horns, and charged at Darryl. Darryl managed to duck out of the way in the nick of time, and the Minotaur let out a loud roar as it flew past. The terrified dad took off running in the opposite direction, praying it wouldn’t be a dead end. It wasn’t long before Darryl heard roaring and the thud of feet returning behind him, and he looked frantically down at the eye on his hand. The eye was pointing straight ahead of him and occasionally looking to the left.

            “Take the first left I see?” A blink. “Got it!” Darryl made the left, and then another left. A stitch was growing in his side and his breathing was labored. He made another left and there was a glow somewhere ahead of him. The relief that flooded him was dashed just as quick when he realized that it was only from the hole in the ceiling he’d made when he’d fallen in. He’d just gone in a circle!  That's when the Minotaur caught up. The horns gored sharply into Darryl's back just below his rib cage, pushing him forward, his knees cracking on the stones when he went down.

            “NO! No, get off, GET OFF!” Darryl hollered and swore as the monster pinned him to the ground by the shoulders, kneeling on the small of his back and sending a flood of white hot agony bolting through him. Darryl couldn’t concentrate, there was too much going on, he barely knew which way was up.

             Suddenly, Darryl lost all feeling in his right arm. He turned his head to look at it, and nearly threw up when he saw the angle it was waving itself around in. If Darryl were in control of it, it would have assuredly been dislocated and immobile. But the Library had taken control of it instead, twisting it up unnaturally behind him and grabbing the Minotaur by the throat, holding its grinding teeth mere inches from flesh of Darryl’s back. “Holy shit, are you saving me right now?” Darryl coughed out against the ground. The Minotaur didn’t seem to have much brain behind him despite the human body. He could have escaped Darryl’s (or the Library’s?) grip by backing up, but instead it kept trying to plough through it. “How long can you keep that up? How far away are you, anyway?”

*

            The Library was further away than he would’ve liked to have been at that time. He had heard Darryl yelling at him right in the middle of trying to figure out where to trade one of his gems for actual usable money, as most grocers did not have change for twenty thousand gold as it turned out. When Darryl had fallen through the floor, the Library had been forced to abandon his quest for food and hurry back to his castle before some mutant dumbass in the basement turned up to steal the Library's dinner. Unfortunately Darryl had slept for a while, and the Library had gotten somewhat far away. He had been glad that Darryl had come up with a rudimentary means to communicate after it became clear that he didn’t know morose code (similar to Morse code in Darryl’s world, but developed in the Forgotten Realms specifically for blink-based communication). Between that and the Library’s own ingenuity, he had hoped that would be enough to guide Darryl out of the labyrinth before the Minotaur found him. Obviously that didn’t pan out, so the Library’s legs grew long and he practically galloped himself back to the castle, reaching the front gate just as the Minotaur tackled his pet to the ground.

            The Library’s eye ached as though it had been stabbed, and phantom pains were running through his limbs as he forced Darryl’s arm into unnatural positions. He used all his mental strength to keep the Minotaur at bay long enough to reach his missing pet. Darryl was going to feel this later and was probably going to blame the Library for it, being the ridiculous creature that he was. Even though the Library was confident in his eldritch magic, he still felt a weight lift from his shoulders when he finally reached the royal bedroom and the telltale hole in the floor. Rolling up several of his sleeves, the Library jumped neatly down into the darkness below. He landed with an unsettling clatter and turned his sharp eyes to see Darryl’s unfortunate position. Then the smell of his coppery blood hit the Library’s nostrils and he felt a surge of adrenaline as his hunting instinct raced through him.

            “Ooh, this won’t do at all, will it?” The Library chuckled, cracking his neck as he approached the Minotaur. The beast finally noticed it had company and released its prey, snarling in the Library’s direction. “Didn’t anyone tell you it isn’t nice to steal another monster’s steak?”

            “I’m not a steak, you sicko!” Darryl complained. The Library rolled his eyes and gave him back control of his arm. The ensuing scream of pain played its tune as the Minotaur charged. The Library’s tongue rolled out and over the Library's outstretched limb like a matador’s cape, pulled aside at the last minute when the Minotaur charged it. Darryl whimpered where he lay for a second before lifting his head enough to look at his rescuer. He was cradling his injured arm and looking rather discontented. “Geez, took you long enough! Where were you?” Darryl’s stomach, bizarrely, took that moment to let out its loudest growl yet. It even echoed.

            “Well I was out trying to get you some food for dinner, but I guess you’re just having beef tonight,” the Library sighed wistfully as the Minotaur charged again. This time he caught the bull by the horns, literally, and pushed it down into the ground.

            “Beef’s fine, I guess? But why would there be…?” Darryl trailed off as the Library’s yanked back on the Minotaur’s head, the monster braying loudly. “Oh no, no no no I’m not eating THAT! That’s a guy!”

            “It’s a cow, it’s got a cow’s brain,” the Library snapped, yanking the head back sharply a second time and wrapping his tongue around the beast’s neck. The tongue's buzz-saw vibrations immediately brought a spray of blood ripping out of the animal as it hollered and flailed in attempt to escape its fate.

            “That’s not a cow’s dick!” Darryl shielded his face, but still received a dousing of Minotaur blood as the Library finished off the creature once and for all.

            “There, now!” The Library huffed, getting up off the floor and dusting off one of his shoulders, though that did little to absolve the mess of visceral bits and bobs that had worked their way into most of his clothes. He gave Darryl a bright smile. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Darryl stared at the Library from the dirty floor. He had rolled onto his back, which wasn’t a good idea because now he was starting to bleed out from his back wounds. His right arm hung limp and useless by his side. He even had a bloody nose, and then more blood still coating his front from the Minotaur. The Library couldn't hold back a blissful sigh. Darryl looked beautiful.

            He also looked like he was dying. Committing the image to memory to savor later, the Library merely shook his head and walked delicately over to Darryl, kneeling at his side and nudging the man until he had flipped the man over onto his stomach again. His groan was altogether too soft, and the Library tutted. “You’re very lucky I’m here, you know. Seems you’re a magnet for trouble! At least we can mend up the fatal wounds, though that arm is going to be out for a while. I never quite got the hang of healing self-inflicted wounds. Oh well! Healing touch!” The Library grinned, lowering his glowing hands to the wounds in Darryl’s back and digging in, sighing happily as Darryl’s throat began rasping on fresh shrieks. And if the Library stuck out his tongue for a taste of the blood and ragged flesh around the edges of the wounds, could one really blame him for it?

Chapter 4: Unbullievable

Summary:

Darryl considers the moral consequences of eating Minotaur meat, and the Library gets a taste.

Notes:

I legitimately consulted with two friends over the ethics and potential cannibalism of consuming a Minotaur. The consensus was that this would have about the same morale implications of eating a gorilla. Not something to be proud of doing, but probably forgivable by society if you are hungry enough at the time. Also something the Library wouldn't think twice about but Darryl would find unsavory.

4 Unbullievable

            Darryl sat on an uncomfortable stool at the wooden counter of the grimy castle kitchen while the Library barbecued a muscular humanoid thigh on the ancient rotisserie in the fireplace. The rest of the Minotaur’s body had been nauseatingly hacked into pieces in front of Darryl’s eyes by the Library, buried in a mountain of salt, and then stored in a cellar space that was under the floor furthest from the fireplace and ovens. The head was set aside on a counter that only got a cursory brush off by the Library before it was dropped. Now it sat with its mouth slightly open and eyes staring blankly ahead directly at where Darryl was seated. Darryl had fortunately been distracted by the shock of bleeding out during the monster’s death throws, but it was still incredibly unsettling to be stared at by something he was expected to eat.

            “I’m not eating that,” Darryl attested, even as his stomach continued to growl and clench in on itself with hunger. Despite knowing what it looked like, the scent of gently smoking meat was becoming way too appealing. “That’s a guy’s leg, and I’m definitely not eating it.” Darryl fidgeted in his seat and winced as his right arm moved the wrong way. The Library had relished the chance to shove it back into its socket, but the whole thing felt stretched out of shape, burning with the pain of a hundred strains. The bones hadn’t been broken, thankfully, but Darryl still couldn't move it without constantly regretting the action.

            The Library rolled his eyes as he drove a two pronged fork into the side of the smoking thigh, pulling the outer layer of flesh aside easily to check how cooked it was. He scowled at the pink and bloody interior. “Wow, these things take a while to cook, huh? Bet yours will take just as long, they’re almost as thick. Although, you have more fat on yours, so the meat should be more tender than this stringy mess. Carnivores, am I right? We’re going to have to get you some vegetables later.”

            Darryl buried his face in his good hand, which at least helped block out the dead-eyed stare of the Library’s last victim. “Can you at least not talk about cooking me while you’re trying to get me to eat something that looks like a dude?”

            The Library hummed thoughtfully for a minute. “Hmm… Nope! Tell me, do you think you’d taste better with a smoky or sweet barbecue sauce?”

            “You’re a fucking asshole.”

            “Guilty!” The Library chimed as he practically skipped to the cupboard and blew some dust off an old, chipped, serving platter. “You’re getting way too caught up in what your meat looks like, if you ask me. Trust me, a Minotaur has all the intelligence of a bull in heat, and all it does is kill. Kings keep them to get rid of folks they don’t like. No need to get morally upset.”

            Darryl nibbled on his lip in discomfort, but the combination of being absolutely famished as well as in a fair amount of low grade pain was making him feel a lot less eager to debate the point. Plus, the smell of cooking meat was making his mouth water. “Well, I mean I guess if it’s just a cow with a man body. I mean, I guess it’s all meat.” Darryl shrugged without thinking and winced as pain shot through his shoulder. “Damn it, can’t you just take over my arm again so I can’t feel it?”

            The Library made a face. “What, so I can feel it instead? No thank you!”

            Darryl actually blushed a little in embarrassment. “Oh, uh, didn’t know it worked like that. Can I get like, a magic Advil or something, then?”

            The Library grinned. “I have no idea what that is!”

            “It’s like, a pill you take and pain goes away?”

            “Hmm, I don’t normally take pain away, but I’m sure I could look it up! Later though, soup’s on!” With that, the Library used one swift motion to snatch the meat from the rotisserie, tearing it off and letting small flakes of skin fall and burn in the embers of the fire beneath. He threw the slab down on the serving platter, and shoved the whole thing under Darryl’s nose. “Will you look at that? One hundred percent edible!” The Library seemed to be incredibly pleased with himself.

             Darryl looked at the meat and licked his lips. He let out a heavy sigh. “Is this like, the first stop on the train to cannibalism? Is that where we’re going with this?”

             The Library shrugged. “Could be. Who knows? Now eat your dinner while it’s hot and fresh!”

            Darryl blinked at the plate, the two pronged fork still sticking out of the top of the leg, a saw-like knife at the side. He knew better than to try using either as a weapon right now. He looked at the Library dubiously. “You're not having any?”

            “Oh, I’ll make up mine in a minute!”

            “There’s no way I can eat all this.”

            “Do your best!”

            Darryl’s stomach gurgled in protest again, and he begrudgingly grabbed the fork and tore up a piece of meat with it. He took a breath, wished he could use his damaged hand to plug his nose, closed his eyes, and stuck the meat in his mouth. He chewed. Then chewed some more. Then some more chewing. He made a face as he swallowed. “It’s, uh, kind of gamey.”

            “Carnivores, right? Unfortunately that's the only food I have to give you right now. You’ll get used to it after a few bites! I’ll go out to get something else tomorrow, we've had enough excitement for one day I think.”

            “Y-yeah I guess.” Darryl felt a little heartened by the fact at least he wasn’t going to enjoy his morbid meal. He resolved to get into survival mode and dug the fork into the meat again, struggling to pull a substantial chunk from the bone so he could get this over with faster.

            The Library snorted and pushed the knife closer to Darryl. “Were you raised in a barn? You know you can cut it, right?”

            Darryl glared. “Not one-handed I can’t!”

            The Library’s eyes widened. “Oh, whoops, forgot about that!” He let loose a short laugh and snatched the fork from Darryl’s hand, making quick work of cutting bite sized pieces of meat out of the roast.

            “You, uh, you don’t have to uh- oomph!” Darryl’s half-formed thought was cut off by the Library forcing another piece of meat into his mouth. He chewed it unhappily as the Library finished his slicing and then tossed Darryl the fork back, taking the saw-knife with him toward the counter by the wall. Darryl was taking his third conflicted bite when he heard a horrific crack and turned around to see that the Library had yanked the entire jawbone off of the Minotaur’s skull and was digging at the base of its tongue with the knife, ripping it out with a practiced hand. Darryl immediately started choking and beat his chest with his fist until the hunk of meat was unceremoniously spat back out on the table.

            “Something wrong?” The Library asked, now holding the detached tongue dispassionately in his limbs and looking at Darryl as though he were somehow the unreasonable one.

            “I’m trying to eat here, and you’re ripping the thing’s head apart like, four feet from my face!”

            “Oh well excuuuuuse me, princess!” The Library rolled his eyes yet again and picked up the rest of the head by the horns, carrying it off behind Darryl to the far end of the room. Darryl cringed at the sound of the damp tongue being slapped onto the table next to the severed head, but still put another piece of the meat in his mouth, chewing as quickly as he could. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to get used to the taste, and having a hot meal was doing him some good. He just managed to swallow when he heard the familiar sound of sawing and a bunch of unfamiliar cracks. He whipped his head around fast enough to jostle his arm again, and made a disgusted noise as the Library finished cutting the top of the Minotaur's head off.

            “What the FUCK?!”

            The Library turned his head a bit too far on his neck to look natural and peered over his shoulder at Darryl. “You know, if you’re going to be like this, I’m not going to let you watch me cook anymore.”

            “Don’t do me any favors, buddy!” Darryl snapped. The Library went back to sawing, and Darryl tried hard to block out the noise as he stuffed a few more pieces of meat in his mouth. Then there was a squelching noise, and some more ripping, and then some clanging as the Library went through the cupboard. Darryl watched as the Library walked past him to the stove and lit it with magic, setting a large frying pan on top. After a minute, he walked behind Darryl again, and returned with the tongue hanging over one limb and another two cradling a mass of grey stuff. It wasn’t until all that was sent sizzling into the pan that Darryl realized the grey stuff was the Minotaur’s brain. That was too much, and Darryl pushed his plate away. He’d eaten maybe the equivalent of an 8oz steak, and there was no way he was going to choke down any more with brains sizzling nearby. That was just gross. The Library didn’t seem to notice that Darryl had stopped eating, instead lightly whistling snatches of tunes Darryl thought he’d heard at Bullywog’s once or twice. Darryl’s meat slowly cooled as the Library stuck a finger into the brains and pulled out a scoop of grey matter to taste. He smacked his lips.

            “A little al dente, but good enough for me!” The Library announced as he pulled the pan off the stove. When he sidled up to the counter opposite from Darryl with his plate and savored his first bite, he finally noticed Darryl’s fork had stopped moving. “Are you full already? You hardly touched it!”

            “I told you I couldn’t finish it,” Darryl asserted, looking at the brains on the table and feeling slightly ill. “You could have just had some of this, why did you want the brain?”

            “The brain's where the knowledge is!” The Library explained happily. “Brains are my favorite part of any creature, and sadly it’s the only part of you I can’t eat without causing permanent damage, so I've got to take what I can get.”

            “What about the tongue?”

            “Eh,” the Library shrugged, “Figured you wouldn’t eat it, didn’t want to waste it.”

            Darryl frowned. “You uh, you saved the dick, though.” The Library took another big bite while making full, steady eye contact with the man across from him. Darryl decided in that long moment that this was a battle to be fought another day. Instead he watched the Library eat, which was less outright horrifying when he wasn’t swallowing something whole like a snake.

             The Library’s face was strange. If you saw it from the corner of your eye, there was something to it that make you want to crick your neck to get a better look. Viewed straight on, it was merely the visage of a gaunt, older gentleman with salt and pepper hair. Even still when he ate, even with a knife and fork and reasonable sized bites, there were glimpses of something inhuman. Teeth that were too sharp. A tongue that stretched too far from the mouth and seemed to grab the food from the fork before it was all the way inside. The mouth itself was off too. It wasn’t that it was opening further than a human mouth normally could, but rather that the skin around it didn’t stretch in a way that showed it had reached the limit of its opening. Like it could go wider. A lot wider. Darryl had seen it get a lot wider. It was weird knowing that even when the Library wasn’t in full monster mode he still couldn’t really pass as human.

             Well, the numerous slender limbs coming from the Library’s shoulders that couldn’t seem to decide on a consistent number kind of gave him away, too. It really was like sitting across from an extra-dimensional spider. A huge extra-dimensional spider that Darryl couldn’t squish. Or, well, that he couldn’t call Carol to have her catch and let outside for him. Either way, it was a disparaging situation for sure. Darryl was stuck, and Grant was still trapped, and who knew what was going on with the other dads? This was a huge mess. He hoped Grant was okay. Darryl found himself staring down into his platter as a subdued aura settled around him. He hardly noticed when the Library set down his cutlery and only startled to full awareness when the Library pushed himself up and away from the counter and walked around to settle an arm around Darryl’s shoulders, poking his bad arm hard and making him yelp. “Jesus! What was that for?!”

            “You look awfully gloomy. Penny for your thoughts? Just kidding! I don’t need to pay a penny because I own you and all your thoughts! But go on.”

            Darryl ground his teeth, but answered anyway. “I’m just worried about my son.”

            “Oh, right, that.” The Library tapped a finger on his chin. “Wasn’t that what that whole Four Knights tournament was about? You didn’t get him back?”

            “We got him back, but he was kidnapped by those weird purple robe guys, just like the rest of the kids.” Darryl gave a labored sigh. “We know they’re in Ravenloft, but-“

            The Library hissed between his teeth. “Ravenloft? Oh, yowch, that place is nasty. Don’t fancy the idea of getting in there.”

            “No? It’s that bad?”

            “It’s pretty bad, yeah,” the Library scratched his head, “Maybe with a small army of mercenaries and my cousin on your side you could do it, barely, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

            “Well I’d do it anyway.”

            “Why?”

            Darryl sputtered. “What? H-he’s my son! I don’t care what danger there is, I’d do anything to get him back!”

            “Sounds kind of stupid to me.”

            “Urgh, you’re a flesh eating monster with no kids, you wouldn’t understand.”

            “You’re right, I wouldn’t!”

            Darryl scoffed and pushed the Library’s arm off of him, getting to his feet and giving yet another wince when his arm moved again. “Can I get a fucking sling for this or something? Least you could do is wrap it up so it doesn’t keep hitting stuff!”

            “Geez, temper!” The Library shooed Darryl toward the door. “I suppose I can find some linens around here somewhere.” Darryl was ushered back to the manservant’s quarters, otherwise known as ‘Darryl’s bedroom’ according to the Library. Darryl didn’t want to start thinking of anything in this castle as belonging to him. He was pushed down to sit on the bed, where he grumpily waited for the Library to light the half-burnt candles on the dresser and fetch a length of cloth from another room. Then he had to wait with an embarrassed flush in his cheeks as the Library wound the makeshift bandage around him from shoulder to wrist, though he left the hand free. “Don’t want to cover this up! Wink!” Darryl glared as the eyeball on his palm made a brief, fluttering appearance before vanishing again. Another piece of cloth served as a sling, and despite everything, having his arm properly seen to left Darryl feeling a lot more comfortable. The dimming light and soft glow from the candles even summoned a surge of fatigue, and suddenly the dingy pillows and blankets looked extremely appealing. “Bedtime story!” The Library announced happily. Darryl’s eyelids drooped and he groaned.

            “I don’t need a story, I just need to sleep.”

            “Not for you silly, you’re going to tell me a story! Something I don’t know. You’re from another world, right? I’m sure you’ve got plenty of stories I’ve never heard!”

            Darryl flung his good arm over his eyes. “Can’t think of any, too tired, go away.”

            “Hmm, well I guess if I can’t get a story, I’ll have to make do with a late night snack!” Darryl startled when long fingers dug into his love handles and pinched.

            “Nope! No! I can think of something, just give me a second!” That surge of adrenaline was enough to bring Darryl back to wakefulness. He cast about for something to talk about as the Library let go of his sides and set about tracing shapes that looked disturbingly like surgical cuts on Darryl’s torso. “Can you cut that out?”

            “Nope!”

            “For fuck’s sake… so what, you just want a fairy tale? Like Snow White or something?”

            “Don’t know what that is, so sure!”

            “Okay, well, once upon a time there was a queen, um, in a castle. And she had a magic mirror and she said ‘mirror mirror on the wall who’s the fairest one of all’…” Darryl trailed off, trying to remember what he could of the Disney movie. “And uh, the mirror said Snow White was the fairest of them all, so the queen got all pissed off and tried to kill Snow White, but she ran away and found seven dwarfs in a cottage. And they sang ‘hi ho hi ho it’s off to work we go’, and let Snow White stay with them cause she could clean their house for them? So that was kind of misogynistic in retrospect. Then a prince came… oh wait no, no first the queen came and she looked like a witch and Snow White ate the apple and died, I think? But the prince kissed her and she came back to life so that was good and they lived happily ever after, the end.”

            The Library put his face in a couple of his hands and shook his head slowly. “Darryl, Darryl, Darryl, great storyteller you are not.”

            “I did my best!” Darryl defended.

            “No doubt,” the Library muttered. “Okay, let’s try again. One more chance. Try telling me something more interesting. Maybe tell me more about how you came to this world perchance?”

            Darryl nibbled his lip. “I, uh, I don’t know if I should tell you that.”

            “Well if you’d rather be a snack..."

            “Okay, fine!” Darryl hurried, “Uh, so we were just driving and a big wormhole-“

            “Woah now, slow down and set the scene, you really need to work on presentation!”

            Darryl huffed, trying to get a hold of himself, but it was hard to do when a monster that had already eaten parts of him was staring him down. “Okay fine, so… it was just a normal day, and my kid had a soccer game, and it was my turn to drive the carpool…” He launched into the story of how he and the other dads fell into the Forgotten Realms all those months ago. The Library frequently instructed him to slow down and describe stuff he didn’t consider important, and explain things such as ‘what is this soccer’ and ‘what is a kar-pooool’. Eventually, however, he got to the part where their sons had gone missing, and was stopped before he could explain what happened with the numbers guys.

            “That’s plenty for tonight, I think! One important bit of storytelling is to leave them wanting more!” The Library sighed happily and pushed Darryl back down on the bed, his head hitting the pillow a little harder than necessary.

            “So I’m not getting eaten tonight, huh?”

            “Nah, I’ll just finish that leg you left in the kitchen. I’ll save your leg for tomorrow!”

            “Oh, great.”

            A strange expression passed over the Library’s face. “You sound awfully reluctant.”

            “I don’t think anyone would be eager to be someone’s unlimited bag of beef jerky.”

            “Hmm, well we’ll see about that.” The Library looked Darryl up and down thoughtfully, then clapped his hands together. “Anyway, that’s enough for tonight! You gotta get your beauty sleep after all. I’ll wake you in the morning! Let’s have a good night kiss!”

            “A wha-“ Darryl’s question was smothered by the Library’s tongue shoving its way into his mouth, scraping against his lips as the Library French kissed him into submission for at least a minute. Darryl thumped on the Library’s back with his good hand desperately until he was released, left gasping for breath.

            “Oops, got carried away!”

            “W-what was that for?!” Darryl wiped at his mouth, grimacing at the droplets of blood that leaked from where the rough tongue dug in too far.

            “Couldn’t resist a taste!” The Library spread his limbs helplessly, blew out the candles, and left the room rapidly as a giant, scuttling shadow. Darryl felt absolutely exhausted, but he knew he was going to be staring up at the ceiling in shock and alarm for many hours to come.

Chapter 5: Bargaining

Summary:

Darryl bargains for some pain killers, and the Library learns Darryl may have other uses.

Notes:

I'm back and here it is... another chapter. More vore and I guess next chapter there will be some oral sex hooray.

5 Bargaining

            The Library had a productive night. With Darryl all tucked in and the shops all closed anyway, it seemed prudent to use the time to start putting his personal library together. He wasn’t exactly sure how much space he would need just yet, but assumed it would be a lot. Therefore he had gone ahead into the main hall, cleaned the place up of debris and cobwebs, and set to work pulling stacks of books out of his gullet. By the time his throat had finally started to grow sore from the strain, he had managed to absolutely cover the floor in piles upon piles of books. He even constructed a few long aisles of slightly more organized stacks up the center. He was going to have to reorganize a lot of the titles, but just being surrounded by so many books filled his heart with ecstasy. Sure, he felt a little empty inside now, but luckily he had an absolute snack of a man around to fill that void, and it might even be fun showing off his hard work to someone. The Library’s left eye began to twitch and water, and his pet’s voice started thrumming in his inner ear. The Library grinned. What perfect timing!

*

            Darryl somehow managed to fall asleep a couple of hours before sunrise, although it was not a restful sleep. It ended too soon when the light from the bare window managed to drill itself directly through his eyelids. Darryl blearily pulled the blankets over his head, but the damage was done, and he sullenly realized that he wasn’t going to be getting any more sleep that morning. This was unfortunate, because the Library had threatened to eat him (or well, parts of him) today, and so if Darryl was going to escape this would be a good time to try. Being as tired as still he was, it made thinking rather difficult, and he wondered vaguely if this was what the Library was hoping for when he kissed him last night.

            “I can’t let him get in my head,” Darryl said, but he was too late to make good on the sentiment. The Library was already lurking inside of him. Literally in at least one place, and it looked like he wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon. That said, Darryl did wonder where the Library was. He had no idea where the Library would be sleeping, if he even slept. Plus the castle was pretty big, and the floor was unsound apparently, so wandering around looking for him didn’t seem that appealing. But if Darryl couldn’t sleep, what else could he do? He looked down at his left hand and flicked at the center of it a couple of times. “Hey, are you awake?” The eye on his palm opened blearily, squinting at him for a second before widening into something more expectant. “Where are you? Are you in the castle?” A blink in response. It seemed their ‘code’ was still in effect. Darryl heard a slight gurgle and grimaced. “Um, any chance you’ve gone food shopping yet?” Two blinks. “Figures.” He wasn’t going to ask for Minotaur leftovers, he could wait a bit longer. “What are you doing, anyway?”

            The eye curved up, giving the impression of a cheeky smile, and Darryl didn’t care for it. None the less, the eye swiveled for the door, looking back at Darryl a couple of times when he didn’t immediately get up to follow its line of sight. “Alright, let me put my shoes on.”

*

            “Darryl! Looking delicious as usual, I see! Did you sleep well, my little sweetmeat?” The Library waved to his pet who stood in the doorway to the main hall, rubbing at the dark circles under his eyes. He had initially seemed a bit in awe of the massive piles of books that towered far over his head, but now the adorably beefy human was only scowling at him.

            “Never call me that again.”

            “Would you prefer 'dumpling'?”

            “I’d prefer if you never called me anything ever again.”

            “Ooh, ouch, hey don’t forget you called me, sugar lips.” The Library shrugged his many shoulders and went back to his previous task of scanning the stack in front of him for any naughty little books on magical gardening tips that may have escaped his notice. Never hurt to triple check, after all! Darryl started walking around the room, looking idly at the books and occasionally grabbing one to thumb through it for a few seconds before tossing it back into the pile, never quite where the Library had left it. It took a lot for the Library to keep his irritation in check, but he managed it. After all, it wouldn’t do to get into an unplanned fight with his breakfast. Speaking of…

            “Well, I’m famished! Which part of you  would make the best bacon, do you think?” The sound Darryl made was priceless. Watching the man stagger off into a run toward the courtyard, cradling his bound arm to his chest, only served to whet the Library’s appetite even more. “Ooh, so thoughtful of you Darryl! I do like to take a morning run before breakfast, gets the blood pumping!”

            “FUCK – gasp – YOU – gasp – BUDDY!” Darryl wheezed as he turned a good lap around the courtyard, the sky growing grey above them with the promise of a morning shower, and then bee-lined for the drawbridge. The Library sprang up with his long legs, leaping and stretching out his body across the gate. He clung to the bars backwards with his limbs spread, much like a proper spider in a web.

            “Going somewhere?” He tittered, and Darryl let out a frustrated wail. He doubling over with his hands on his knees, trying to get his breath back. The Library snorted. “Little out of shape, are we?”

            “S-seriously, fuck you,” Darryl gasped.

            “Keep threatening that, and I may make you go through with it.” The Library’s eyes glittered when Darryl started sputtering. Utterly enchanting. Definitely cute enough to eat. The Library let go of his perch and fell neatly to the ground, tutting as Darryl backed away and lengthening his stride to make up for it. He extended his limbs to ensnare his prey’s shoulders, yanking him forward and using a third limb to tilt Darryl’s face up by the chin to look him in the eyes. “You, my dear, are positively mouth-watering.”

            Darryl’s face went on a brief journey between confused and embarrassed, and then settled on a glare that just bordered on pouting. The Library could feel him trying to pull away but held him firm, even taking the opportunity to knead the man’s broad shoulders.

            “Oh yeah? Well, you are positively a Slenderman rip off. That’s right, I said it!”

            The Library’s head cocked to one side, purposefully a bit further than Darryl would be comfortable looking at. “Am I supposed to know what that is? Is that an insult? I really can’t tell.”

            Darryl twitched. “I mean, well you probably wouldn’t think it’s an insult.” The Library hummed and leaned in closer to Darryl, drawing him in enough to bury his nose into the side of the man’s neck, breathing in the scent of his savory sweat and anxiety. Then he ran the tip of his sharp tongue across the sensitive skin there. “Ow! Stop!” Darryl struggled harder to move away, but the Library was undeterred, rubbing the skin raw beneath his ministrations, gently coaxing sweet droplets of blood to the surface. He only stopped when he felt drops of water falling onto his head, and looked up in time to get one in the eye.

            "Is that it? You’re done? Let me go!”

            “Let’s take this inside, shall we?” The Library suggested, pulling his restrained and squirming pet into his limbs and carrying him quickly toward the main hall as the sky opened up. The downpour managed to drench both of them before they got under the safety of the roof. A brief, terrifying thought consumed the Library and he looked frantically around at the ceiling for damp spots before noting that, thankfully, the dilapidation of the castle did not extend to the roof. His books were safe. Darryl, however, took advantage of the Library’s brief distraction and managed to kick his way free. Luckily, he only succeeded in falling to the floor before the Library snagged him by the ankles and pulled his legs up behind him, firmly taking control of the situation again.

            “Look pal, I’m gonna give you five seconds to let me go,” Darryl tried, and really, it was very cute that he was still struggling so hard. But it was about time he learned who was the master here.

            “If I let you go, would you try to run away again?”

            Darryl narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to try to eat me again?”

            “Yes.”

            “Then yeah, I’m probably going to try running again. Got a problem with that?”

            The Library shrugged. “Eh, not really.”

            “Oh?” Darryl seemed taken aback. “Um, you don’t?”

            “Nah, I can deal with it.”

            “You can?”

            “Yes. Right now, in fact!” The Library grinned, easing Darryl’s soggy right shoe off and even stripping off the sock beneath.

            “How is that gonna-? OW! MOTHERFUCKER!” Darryl screamed and howled, because the Library’s head had darted forward and bitten Darryl’s entire foot off in one gut wrenching motion. Darryl's eyes blurred and he gasped for breath, fingernails scraping at the floor beneath him as the Library dropped his intact leg, still chewing on the foot with the crunch of bones echoing grotesquely in the cavernous space. The sound mingled with Darryl’s pained grunts while the Library used a quick conjure flame spell to cauterize the wound. Couldn’t let it get infected before the Library could be bothered healing it, after all. “Are you crazy?!” Darryl wailed once the Library finished numbing the nerve endings, and he started to get his breath back. “I can’t walk! I won’t be able to- what about football? Or s-soccer I c-can’t play soccer with my son, I can’t…”

            The Library looked down at Darryl like he was stupid. He swallowed the rest of the flesh in his mouth before speaking. Feet weren’t his favorite, they tended to be leathery and picked up the flavor of whatever they touched, but it would come in handy later. “Darryl, I can put it back.”

            “What do you mean? My foot's gone!"

            “I ate your hand before too, didn’t I?”

            Darryl looked at said hand for a moment, and then his face scrunched up in disgust. “I’m gonna have an eye on my foot now?”

            “Could be an eye. Could be something else. Haven’t decided yet. Anyway, this is just to stop any other silly escape attempts while I fire up the stove. To the kitchen!” The Library gestured for his pet to follow as he stepped over Darryl and headed for the door into the inner sanctum. Then he paused and looked over his shoulder at the man lying helplessly on the floor. Darryl gave a pointed look toward his ankle stump. “Oh, right.”

*

            Darryl was carried into the kitchen, trying his hardest not to start hyperventilating and failing miserably. It didn’t help that he was laid down on the same dirty counter where the Minotaur had its brains scooped out the day before. The Library had implied that he wouldn’t be eating his brain at least, but that was small comfort as his captor opened a drawer and started pulling out a selection of knives that looked far sharper than they should have been from disuse. If Darryl had been able to think of much beyond his imminent consumption, he might have wondered if the Library had taken time to sharpen them while he was asleep. Once the Library had chosen a particularly intimidating looking butcher’s knife, he headed back toward Darryl at an even pace, each foot falling heavy and dropping Darryl’s stomach further down in his guts with each step.

            “What are you gonna… you know… cut off?”

            The Library hummed as he examined Darryl’s body, eyes catching on his cargo shorts and soccer dad t-shirt. “Well, let’s see what we’re working with!” And with that, he dug his knife into the hem of Darryl’s shirt and started slicing it up to the neck.

            “HEY!” Darryl protested, scrambling to try and push the knife away, miscalculating and pushing it down enough give himself a shallow, unintended slice across his abdomen. He cringed away just long enough for the Library to finish opening the shirt, revealing Darryl’s dummy thick barbarian physique.

            “Tsk, tsk, see what happens when we get excited?” The Library chuckled, darting his obscenely long tongue out of his mouth to swipe up the length of the cut, irritating the wound. Darryl gasped and closed his eyes to weather the sting. The Library, in lieu of a stronger reaction, retreated to start eyeing Darryl’s body properly, now clothed only by cargo shorts and some shreds of cloth around his shoulders. Darryl tried to cast his mind to something, anything else as he was sized up, and tried even harder when long fingers descended upon him, pinching and pressing at him first at the shoulders and then down to his sides. He had almost settled into speculation of whether Henry had already murdered Glenn in a fit of acidic rage when the Library managed to dig into his ribs and Darryl let out a completely reflexive smile and giggle. It even came out as an embarrassingly breathy 'hee hee'. The Library froze and looked at Darryl in surprise as the dad fought to straighten out his facial expression.  “Oooo, ticklish are we?” The Library’s shit-eating grin was nearly unbearable under normal circumstances, let alone this one.

            “No!” Darryl said too quickly, his voice nearly squeaked. “Uh, I mean, I just, uh, thought of something funny?”

            “Oh really?” The Library asked, brushing the tips of his fingers under Darryl’s ribs again, making him twitch hard at the mouth. “What was it?”

            “It wa-AS-“ Darryl snorted as the Library dug into him again at just the wrong spot. “I was just… j-just, uh, remembered w-when me and Henry uh… f-farted in the car?”

            The Library shook his head, pausing in his ministrations. “You really shouldn’t lie to me, Darryl.”

            “I-I’m not! It was funny!” Darryl bit at his lip.

            “Well if you’re not ticklish, I guess you wouldn’t care if I did THIS!” The Library proceeded to dig his fingers into Darryl’s love handles and tickled him for all his was worth. Darryl succumbed immediately, head falling back on the table hard enough to see stars as he began to giggle uncontrollably. His good arm and leg were flailing and kicking out against the Library, who began using multiple limbs to hold down Darryl’s struggling appendages and keep up his assault until tears were streaming down Darryl’s face.

            “STOP IT!” Darryl screamed, “I’M G-GONNA PEE!”

            “Ew.” The tickling stopped dead and the Library let go long enough to allow Darryl to wheeze himself calm again.

            Darryl got a hold of himself just in time for the Library to hum with decision and return with the butcher knife. Darryl swallowed hard. “W-what are you gonna take?”

            “Gave it some hard thought, and I think I’m gonna chow down on some of that chunky little hip of yours. So, first thing is going to be ditching those sweaty shorts!”

            Darryl should have known it would get to this point eventually. If he could get naked with the other dads in front of a crowd, his nudity was definitely the least of his concerns at the moment. Maybe he could cut a deal? “Yeah, uh, y-you don’t need to cut them off! I’ll take them off myself and…” Darryl let out a shaky sigh. “And I won’t struggle or anything. But is it possible to uh, to numb me out?”

            “Numb you out?”

            “You know! Uh, give me something to dull the pain?” The Library pursed his lips in thought, and Darryl hurried to get out of his shorts and boxers while he did so, hoping that a display of willingness might grant him some form of mercy. It was hard to do with only one arm, and his constitution kept rolling as his leg stump brushed against the table and the inside of his shorts, but he managed it. The Library looked at Darryl’s naked lower half with all the dignity of a starving dog, his tongue poking out and saliva visibly gathering along his lips as he laid a hand on the dad’s thigh. Darryl’s heart beat faster. “Please!” Darryl winced at how desperate he sounded but damn it, he was in survival mode here! “Please, please, I won’t struggle, just don’t make me feel you cutting it off!”

            There was a long pause. The Library tore his gaze from Darryl’s body to his eyes, and Darryl stopped breathing. There was nothing in those eyes that spoke of humanity or empathy, only a deep hunger that Darryl neither understood nor wanted to understand. The Library’s long skinny body was taught and wound up with tension, ready to pounce, and yet he wasn’t moving. Darryl’s eyes were huge as he tried to think of something, anything else he could say to make the Library give him this one. But what the hell else could he offer to him other than not fighting? He didn’t have anything, unless... 

            “I’ll, uh, fuck.” Darryl grimaced at his own phrasing, “I mean, uh, I’ll uh, s-suck your dick?”

            The Library blinked, and suddenly all the tension drained from his body as he let out a loud, hysterical laugh. “You’ll what?”

            Well, in for a penny. “Yeah! Yeah, I’ll suck your dick! Uh, if you’ve got one. I guess maybe you might not, I don’t know. I shouldn’t assume stuff. Grant’s always on me about that, and I’m trying but-“

            “Oh, I’ve got a dick, sweet-cheeks.”

            Darryl’s cheeks heated up and he definitely couldn’t meet the Library’s eyes anymore, even if they had lost a lot of that predator quality. “Well then, um, if you just… make it so I don’t… I mean, I’m in enough pain, you know? Like with my arm, and my foot just now! So you make it so I don’t have to feel you cut into me... and you have to heal me right after!”

            “Well obviously I’m going to do that, I mean that’s the idea, I’m not a beast.”

            “Well I’m just making sure!”

            “Well you don’t have to make sure, that was the whole point of bringing you here! So that I could eat you and heal you up so that I could keep eating you in the future, that was the whole plan here.”

            “Okay, first of all, that doesn’t really make you not a beast.”

            “Beasts don’t make plans like that! Beasts run around in abandoned castles killing things for fun. I make convoluted book borrowing-slash-flesh-taking schemes!”

            “That’s not- okay, this is off topic. Do we have a deal?”

            The Library examined the claws on a couple of his limbs. “Eh, sure, why not. But you have to stay here while I go look up a spell for ‘numbing you out’. You better be right here when I get back!”

            “Not like I can get far like this anyway,” Darryl mumbled. Then he stuck out his good hand toward the Library, who looked at it with some confusion.

            “Uh, what’s this?”

            “We have a deal?”

            “Yes?”

            “So shake on it!”

            The Library’s eyebrows furrowed as he held out a couple limbs around Darryl’s hand and shook them in the air a little. “Like this?”

            “No, just- I keep forgetting you people don’t do this.” Darryl shook his head and grunted with effort to curl up just enough to grab one of the Library’s hands. He ended up grabbing the back of the hand by mistake, but immediately all the fingers on said hand bent backwards to grab his hand anyway. It was nearly enough to make Darryl let go in disgust.

            “This is by far the worst attack I’ve ever seen.” The Library looked severely unimpressed.

            “It’s not an attack, it’s a handshake. You do it when you meet someone, or make a deal. You just, you give a good firm grip and just-“ And Darryl shook the Library’s backwards hand twice before letting go. The fingers flipped back around and the Library examined his hand with idle interest.

            “Handshake, huh? Have to remember that one. Anyway, be right back!” And then the Library left Darryl alone in the kitchen, lying on his back on the food prep counter, with only an aching arm and leg stump for company.

*

            The Library watched Darryl closely as the ‘numbing’ spell he found took effect, and the man relaxed into the counter partially from relief, and partially from temporarily losing his mental connection to his limbs. The Library couldn’t find anything localized, so Darryl shouldn’t be feeling much of anything for the next while. He would likely find talking hard to do as well, since not being able to feel where your tongue was in your mouth made it rather hard to move correctly. But at any rate, the Library held up his end of the bargain, so it looked as though he wouldn’t be bored waiting for his rump roast to cook. He took his time with severing the flesh. He had originally intended to do this quickly since Darryl would have been squirming around. But since he wasn’t going to feel it anyway, he took his time, relishing in how easily his sharpened knife slid into his pet’s thigh. He sawed carefully into the meat and shredded first the skin, then the muscles beneath, going in a wide arc and drawing far less blood than the Library had expected. It was possibly a side effect of the spell, he wasn’t sure, but there was only a small pool of red gathered on the counter by the time he nicked the hip bone and changed his angle to finish carving out enough muscle and fat for a decently sized pot roast. He glanced up at Darryl’s face to see the man sweating and staring down his body at the gaping hole in his side. “Doing okay there, Darryl?”

            “Uhh yaung.”

            “Still numb, huh?”

            “Yaugh.”

            The Library held up the meat for Darryl to see better. “Would you say this looks like a good size?”

            Darryl scowled, though it looked a bit goofy and lopsided. “Nauw.”

            “Okay, well, guess I’ll get this prepped then.” The Library turned and started to walk away.

            “EY!”

            “What?” Darryl looked meaningfully down at his side. “Oh, whoops, my bad!” The Library hummed and dug his hand into the wide wound, filling it entirely with his fist and taking a moment to admire the satisfying sight before it lit up and began healing. There was a lot to regrow, so it took a couple of minutes to get halfway done. He left the wound still in need of several layers of flesh and nerves, and wiped his forehead. “Oh wow, that was deeper than I thought, I’m gonna need a minute. I’ll just clean this up and be right back, sit tight!”

            Darryl made some grumbling noises, but seemed alright as the Library gathered up his prize again and headed over to the other counter to shave and salt it while he got the stove heating up. By the time that was done Darryl was starting to make grunts that may have been pain, so the Library took a deep breath and headed back over to finish healing. By the time that was done, it seemed the numbing had worn off enough that Darryl could speak again, though he sounded a little hoarse. “Well that sucked.”

            “Not as hard as you will later, I hope.”

            “Oh my god.” The Library chuckled as Darryl realized his ordeal wasn’t over yet and went back to his meal prep, getting a pot from the cupboard and humming to himself again as he used a bit of magic to fill it with water and put it on the stove. He picked up the hunk of Darryl-meat and got ready to plunk it right in the pot, only to hear a cry of protest. “What the hell are you doing?!”

            “I’m making a pot roast out of your hip and part of your ass, obviously.”

            “No you’re not!”

            The Library frowned. He was protesting now? “I very much am, what does it matter to you? I replaced it.”

            “No, I mean, you go through the trouble of cutting it off me, and you’re just going to salt and boil it?”

            “Well I was going to roast it, but I figured this way it was less likely to accidentally burn if you turn out better at dick sucking than I expect.”

            This only seemed to make Darryl pause for a moment before he waved the comment away to continue his rant. “There’s no olive oil, or onions, or pepper, or red wine-“

            “Oh! I could get wine-“

            “Or beef broth or other spices… that’s going to taste terrible!”

            “You give yourself too little credit, I’m sure you'll taste fine on your own!"

            “Oh it’ll be edible maybe. But if you really want a full flavor experience, you should be using other stuff that'll bring out the full profile!”

            “Really?” The Library frowned. “I’ll admit, cooking is sort of an experiment for me. I’m more used to raw flesh to be honest. Never cooked much on the road. Never had a stove before.”

            Darryl had pulled himself into a sit now, legs dangling over the edge of the counter. “Well that’s even more reason to do it right now that you have one!”

            “Why do you care?”

            “Huh?”

            “Why do you care? I assume you’re not going to eat it.”

            “Uh…”

            “Unless you want to? I guess I could give you a taste if you’re curious.”

            “No! I’m not gonna eat myself!” Darryl said this as a knee jerk response, and then his face turned into something more thoughtful. “Although I guess it wouldn’t be morally wrong. Huh. Anyway, if you're going to be cooking me, you should do it right! Don't half ass my ass!"

            The Library sighed, setting the meat back down on the counter beside him and folding some of his limbs. “What would you know about cooking, anyway?”

            Darryl drew himself up indignantly. “Hey! I’ll have you know I do pretty much all the cooking at home! Carol’s at work a lot, so I've got to pick up the slack. I do the cleaning and the cooking and the home improvements! That’s all me, baby! I’m a modern man!”

            The Library regarded Darryl with some more interest. He had to admit he didn’t expect the man to be so domestic. That was kind of intriguing. It definitely indicated he might adjust from his former adventuring life faster than the Library had originally thought. “Okay, well, I don’t actually have any other ingredients around here. Salt doesn’t go bad, so I’ve got that, but not much else I'm afraid.”

            “Then let’s go grocery shopping! You’ve got money, right?”

            The Library glared and wagged a finger. “Oh no, you’re not leaving this castle, mister. Nice try.” Darryl looked genuinely surprised at the Library’s waspish tone, and that alone was enough to quell the monster's temper.

            “I didn’t mean- no, I just genuinely want to go shopping. You can track me with my hand anyway, right? It’s not like I can run away, and I need more food than, uh, Minotaur. It makes more sense if I went with you, since you don’t really know what to get for herbs and spices, right?”

            “I guess.”

            “And I don’t know what they have, so I can’t tell you what to get. Just take me into the town, or village, or whatever, and we can get some food and spices. Then you can bring me back here, and I’ll make you a pot roast so good you won’t ever want raw meat again!”

            “Wow, tall order there, champ.” The Library squinted at Darryl. He did seem pretty earnest. He was probably still plotting to escape if he got the chance, but the Library had a few ways to keep him leashed if he needed to. He didn’t especially want Darryl to know how close the nearest village was at the moment, but there may be a way around that. “Well, I suppose, if you promise to be good!”

            “What?” Darryl’s cheeks flooded red now. “I uh, yeah I promise.”

            “Promise what?”

            “I promise to be good.”

            “I promise to be good, whom?”

            “I promise to be good…” Darryl seemed to struggle for a moment. “Sir?”

            “Hmm, I think we could do better. Ooh, how about ‘daddy’?”

            “No. No we are not doing that.”

            The Library sighed and rolled his eyes. “Eh, I’m over it. Onward!”

            “Right now? Uh, okay!” Darryl hopped off the counter and immediately tipped over and fell, his butt-naked body sprawled across the floor. He had evidently forgotten about his missing foot. “Ah shit, can you fix this already?!” The Library was doubled over, wheezing with laughter, but he would fix up Darryl’s foot in a minute. He wasn’t carrying him all the way into town after all! Unless… maybe if he… oh, yes, that would solve his problem nicely! But he would still fix poor Darryl’s foot up for him, couldn’t hurt to give his pet another little memento of his master before letting him out to play!

Chapter 6: Shopping

Summary:

Darryl and the Library go grocery shopping for side dishes since human flesh should never be eaten by itself that's just gross.

6 Shopping

            The Library walked to the edge of the village with a little spring in his step. He felt pleasantly full, he had several exciting things to look forward to when he got home again, and he had come up with the perfect way to get Darryl to the village without the risk of him figuring out where it was. Speaking of, as the Library reached the edge of the settlement he jammed a couple hands into his mouth and wrenched his jaws open horrifically wide, forcing some more hands directly down his throat. There he rooted around for a little while before grabbing hold of Darryl’s arm and yanking him straight out of his gullet. The force used to propel him out made the Library gag, and Darryl ended up splattering onto the ground coated in saliva and mucus.

            “Holy FUCK, that’s the worst way to travel. The worst. And I've flown with American Airlines.” Darryl groaned and complained as usual, but the Library was patient, and he finally staggered up onto his two intact feet. Darryl had also whined about how gross it was when the Library reattached his foot, and that was something he had asked the Library to do, so the Library had to assume that complaining was going to be a reoccurring theme with his burly meal ticket. Darryl was back in his shoes and cargo shorts, and he still had the tattered remains of his shirt hanging from his shoulders like an extremely shabby vest. All of this was currently soaked through and clinging to him in ways that made the Library wish he had at least had a snack before heading out, but it couldn’t be helped now. He ignored his protesting belly as he threw a couple limbs around Darryl’s soggy shoulders and began to lead him into the small market square.

            The village of Eroville wasn’t very large, even for a village, boasting only about a hundred citizens at most. It was possible that during the castle’s heyday it was more populous. There were more than a few abandoned shopfronts in the marketplace, but currently it only had a general store and a bakery as permanent establishments. Alongside those on the street were a few market stalls where house-spouses sold their handicrafts and some farm produce. Despite the shopping district's meager offerings, there were still more than a few customers perusing the wares set out on the cobblestones around them as the Library and Darryl entered the scene. The Library did draw some attention with his presence, but not as much as one would have expected from a multi-limbed, gaunt faced monstrosity. This was partially due to the Library having made it into the village the day before, and therefore word had already worked its way around that he was in town. He already had a couple of interested parties inquire about borrowing books from him, and he had been sure to pack the requested tomes away with Darryl in his guts in case these parties still wanted to peruse them.

            The lack of interest was also likely due to some of the magic from the Deck of Many Things. When the Deck of Many things decides someone owns a keep, it doesn’t cut corners about it. Although no one in the village immediately knew the Library owned the keep, as soon as they saw him in town they all had a basic understanding deep in their hearts that he belonged there, like it or not. Darryl actually attracted most of the stares as he toddled by, various villagers scampering out of their path. Given that Darryl looked dirty and ragged and wet enough to have been sleeping in a ditch for the last several months, he appeared more like a vagrant that would normally be chased out of town, rather than the companion of the famed Library and owner of the largest castle in a hundred miles.

            “So how’s your new and improved foot working out for you?”

            “It feels kind of weird, what did you do to it?” Darryl asked, bouncing on it a little as they headed first for the grinning dwarf at the far end of the market, since they would be the most likely suspect for buying one of the Library’s gems at near-market value.

            “It’s a surprise!”

            Darryl narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like being surprised by random things appearing on my body.”

            “I know!” Darryl seemed to be waiting for the Library to elaborate, but he never did. Therefore the man could do naught but let out an irritated sigh and slump his shoulders. The Library spent a little time haggling with the dwarf, who seemed very excited about the valuable gem the Library presented to him, and ended up getting a full nineteen thousand gold for it, in addition to an extended lend of some very old books on 'mining' (this was accompanied by a wink at their mention) that the Library promised to deliver later. Pockets now laden with spendable money, the two headed for the general store. Darryl perked up as they entered, but seemed to falter once he looked around at the small selection.

            “Huh, there’s not a lot here.” Darryl seemed disappointed as he drew away from the Library to finger a barrel of small, spotty apples. It was an accurate, if unnecessary observation. The general store was clean, but rather empty. While there were plenty of barrels, boxes, and shelves from a more prosperous era, many were now empty. The Library suspected they would find a bit more produce out in the market square sold directly by the farmers, but the slightly rarer items would be here if they were anywhere. There were indeed some browning red onions and even some bags of rice, a rare import in the area.

            “It’s not a big village, and not doing so hot financially. Lucky we’re here to bolster the local economy, right?”

            “Oh!” Darryl nodded along. “Yeah, helping the local economy is good!”

            “You said you wanted spices, right?” The Library scanned the room and spotted a selection of herbs and lentils along the back wall. It wasn’t large, but Darryl seemed to actually recognize a fair few of them. What he didn’t know on sight, he seemed to know by smell.

            “Rosemary and thyme, good… what no sage?” Darryl was muttering to himself as he took a small wicker shopping basket, set it on the shelf beside him, and started piling greenery into it. “Not seeing any basil or bay leaves. Oh, there’s some cloves, need them… only dill seeds?”

            “We do have a garden. I know you said you weren’t the type for it, but if you wanted to try to grow a little herb garden, you could do that,” the Library encouraged.

            “Huh, yeah I guess that doesn’t sound too hard.” Darryl added the dill seeds to his basket and kept looking, adding a few more different seed packets as well. He paused at a peculiar purple root at the end of the row, hidden partially behind the parsley. The Library watched as Darryl seemed to size it up, took a smell of it, and looked impressed. “What’s this? Smells like it tastes good.” It was the first question Darryl had asked him, and the Library was forced to spread his hands in a display of ignorance.

            “No idea.”

            “I thought you had a load of information about this world and stuff?”

            “I do in books, Darryl. Most of which are now at the castle, which I’m starting to realize might be kind of inconvenient for my lifestyle. Anyway, it’s not like I remember everything I’ve ever read. Only the parts I find the most interesting, like secrets.” The Library pointed at the shop keeper, who was standing behind the counter and seemed to be constantly on the verge of asking if they need any help, but very unsure if the question would be ill received. “I bet they would know.”

            “Oh, yeah! Hey you! What’s this?” Darryl asked, holding up the root. The shop keeper squinted across the store at it, and appeared fairly confused.

            “Uh, looks like it might be a skinny turnip? Maybe? I thought we sold out, but maybe one ended up over there on accident.”

            “Huh, turnip could be good.” Darryl plunked it into the basket as well, grabbed a couple of the browning onions, as well as a few sticks of squishy looking butter, and headed for the counter. The Library tutted and threw a few apples into the basket as well.

            Darryl made a face. “Uh, I don’t know if I want those.”

            “You need vitamin C! I read that in a book! Got to keep you healthy!” Darryl seemed unhappy again, but didn’t protest as the Library paid for their ingredients. He even threw in an extra gold piece to keep the basket so they could carry everything  as they headed back onto the street. The Library even carried the basket himself, since Darryl was down to one workable limb and the Library had a surplus. Their next stop was the bakery. The bakery was a little nicer than the general store, if only because it was smaller and therefore had fewer shelves to leave bare, though what they held was nothing out of the ordinary. Different sorts of bread were set out on the shelves, as well as a small selection of pastries and buns, but at least it smelled nice. Darryl quickly found some fresh white bread he thought would go well with his pot roast and so the Library headed for the counter. As the Library was about to pay for the loaf, however, he noticed that Darryl was looking rather longingly at some glistening, freshly fried dough.

            “See something you like?”

            Darryl looked a little startled at being called out on his drooling. “Oh, uh, I just didn’t know you guys had doughnuts.” Darryl looked back at the fried dough with a sad expression. “It’s just that I haven’t had any since, you know, since I was home.”

            “In your original world, I assume you mean. Did you want some?” The Library asked, already stuffing a few into a paper sack. “You can just ask you know, it’s not like I’ve got much else to spend money on. They're not expensive.” Darryl took the bag as it was handed to him, muttered his thanks, and managed to tuck it into the crook of his wrapped arm so he could reach into it to start shoveling food into his mouth. He seemed to be pretty hungry, which was a bit troubling, now that the Library thought about it. He might need to invest in some animal livestock for the castle too, if Darryl needed to eat more frequently than the Library did. Maybe just a cow and some chickens, but something so he wouldn’t have to go down to the village for food so often. Darryl was a pretty big human, he probably actually needed to eat a lot. The Library lost himself in his pondering long enough that he managed to miss the girl behind the bakery counter starting to flirt with his pet.

            “Haven’t see you around here before, big boy.”

            “Uh huh,” Darryl managed to get out his response after a hard swallow, but he immediately took another bite.

            “Gotta love a man who loves to eat! And so handsome too!” Darryl stared at the lady with wide eyes, dumbfounded for a moment with a mouthful of doughnut before clearing his throat and holding out his hand to indicate his wedding ring. The lady gasped and giggled. “Figures a stud like you would be taken. I never thought the Library would be the type to settle down, but he has great taste!”

            Darryl immediately started choking on the fried dough and dropped the remainder on the floor in favor of beating his chest. The Library wasn’t fairing much better, staring off into the middle distance as it hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would consider that he and Darryl were… together. But as Darryl got control of himself enough to protest (“I’m not married to HIM!”), the Library had the thought that, maybe, that didn’t really bother him so much. Darryl was far from unattractive, he tasted good, and he seemed to be somewhat domesticated. Though it remained to be seen if he could cook as well as he said he could, the idea of being associated with Darryl romantically wasn't a bad one, actually. This in mind, the Library waved off the rest of Darryl’s sputters, paid the lady, and made sure to wrap enough limbs around Darryl so that he was all but plastered to his side. “Come along, darling! Still some shopping to do before we head home!” A statement he punctuated with a firm, somewhat fond kiss on the side of his head.

            “Hey, what you doing?! Oh come on- he’s just kidding around!” Darryl tried to insist over his shoulder as he was ushered away. The Library was left grinning again. His pet was so cute.

*

            Back in the square, they managed to pick up some more vegetables, as well as a large and very expensive bottle of olive oil. The Library even sprung for a new blue tunic shirt for Darryl. It was too tight, from Darryl’s perspective. It stretched over his stomach and he felt like he was going to sweat through it in minutes. But the Library insisted it flattered him, even going so far as to say it emphasized his best feature and poked his stomach for good measure. It made him giggle on impact like an oversized Pillsbury Dough Boy. Darryl spent a lot of time after that covering parts of his stomach with his arm, giving him a certain air of rampant insecurity. But he knew that, when he least expected it, he could be tickled again. He could take no chances.

            As they made their way back to the edge of the village, the Library set their basket down on the ground and turned to Darryl. Even though he should have known this was coming, Darryl was in no way happy when the Library stretched his mouth wide like a snake and then pointing first at Darryl and then at his mouth. “I’m not- seriously? I’m not gonna just climb into your mouth!” Darryl made a face and backed up a couple of steps, only to be stopped in his tracks when his foot refused to cooperate. Instead it forced itself forward a step, leaving Darryl stuck with his legs spread wide, refusing to be dragged closer but unable to escape either.

            The Library rolled his eyes, his voice echoing out of his throat without any trouble despite his tongue doing no more than lying across the ground like a moist red carpet. “You’ve been in there multiple times now, you know it’s fine.”

            “It’s not fine! It’s all humid and wet and tight…”

            “That’s what she said!”

            “Oh my god. No.” Darryl pressed his face into his hand. “I can’t just- you’re going to have to make me. There is no way I'm willingly putting my head in there.”

            “That’s what-“

            “I KNOW! Fuck, I didn’t mean it that way. I can’t just walk into your mouth. You know that’s so weird, right?”

            The Library huffed, though it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Come now Darryl, do you need me to tickle you into submission again?”

            “Wha- NO!” Darryl’s arm instinctively went to his stomach again, only to be batted away by his other arm which had gone numb and wrenched itself out of its sling. The alien fingers wiggled threateningly over his unguarded tummy, and Darryl whimpered.

            “I’d hate to have to do something worse, Darryl,” the Library threatened lightly, and Darryl knew he was strapped for choice. He had rarely felt so helpless. Taking a deep breath, Darryl closed his eyes and nodded. His arm fell limp and sore at his side again, and he tucked it gingerly back into its sling. Then Darryl drew himself up and walked toward the Library’s quivering maw, determined that if he had no choice then he would face his fate like a man. The jaws were wide, and the Library had leaned over somewhat, but it wasn’t like Darryl could just walk in with his back straight. He ended up dithering at the entrance long enough for the Library to take pity on him and grab hold of his shoulders with his limbs, guiding him into a bend. Darryl, reluctant but resigned, shimmied down the Library’s throat like a fox hole, all the way to the unfortunately familiar, and sadly slimy, inner sanctum.

            Once inside, he kicked himself around until he felt like he was on his back, the living walls a little less tight around him since the huge wad of books was removed. The stomach walls were still fairly snug, however, so moving required more effort than Darryl wanted to expend once he was comfortable. As he settled in for the journey back to the castle, he felt that odd stroke down his back that came from the wall. At first he braced himself for the Library to grab him again, anticipating some stupid thing the Library forgot to do before sending him down there. But instead, the strokes merely continued at an even pace, lulling Darryl into a doze. It was weirdly comforting.

            “Oh shit, he’s petting me,” Darryl said out loud, the thought enough to get him to try to squirm away from the touch, but there was no egress. It seemed that being petted creepily through a stomach wall was also a fate to be resigned to as the gentle swaying he associated with the Library moving began to rock him into placidity.

*

            The pot roast was coming along as best as it could, as far as Darryl was concerned. He had been regurgitated directly onto the kitchen floor some undetermined amount of time later (it didn’t feel that long though, maybe the village was nearby?), and was quickly directed towards the basket of ingredients and his pound of flesh. It sat on the counter where they had left it, attracting flies. Darryl grimaced, hoping a good boil would be enough to kill any bacteria that was probably already growing on it.

            “I need to wash some of this, first,” Darryl said awkwardly, and the Library nodded, magically filling a small basin with water for that purpose. Once Darryl was washing and chopping up onions and bits of carrot, he found himself unconsciously starting to feel better. This was his element. He knew meal prep backwards and forwards, and hey, if he played his cards right maybe he could convince the Library to leave his own flesh alone. If he promised to cook other stuff for him, that is. That would definitely make things more bearable while he was still looking for an opening to escape. The Library was watching Darryl closely as he worked, but Darryl didn’t much mind that. Carol used to like watching him cook, too. She would say it was sexy how nimble his fingers were with the knife, and it was amazing how he never needed measuring cups and could eyeball pretty much whatever a recipe called for. Carol hadn’t really watched him work in the kitchen for years, and it was only as the Library watched him light up the stove and oven, season the meat, and begin to add the oil and veggies to the pot, that Darryl realized he kind of missed having an audience.

            “You know I don’t usually eat vegetables,” the Library pointed out as Darryl stirred in some diced carrots.

            Darryl nodded absently as he checked on the onions. “Yeah, I’m not big on veg either, but you need the vitamins sometimes. Plus it can add a lot of flavor to the meat if you use them right. You can never go wrong adding onions!”

            “If you say so.” The Library seemed unconvinced. Darryl finally added the meat to the pot and shivered as he remembered it was his own flesh cooking in front of him. He turned it with one of the two pronged forks a few times, tried to get it completely coated in oil and seared as much as possible. He couldn’t check the exact temperature, so he would just have to hope he was judging it correctly.

            That was when Darryl remembered. “Oh shit, forgot the red wine.”

            “Hmm, we could always just drain some of your blood!”

            Darryl twitched hard at the thought. “No, not the same thing. Won’t work.”

            “Oh, but I think you’ll find I’d still enjoy it!”

            Darryl’s hand gripped the fork harder. He had been gingerly using his bound arm to help with the cooking and ignoring the stiff movements, but he found his pain level suddenly spike. “I-I’ll just use more olive oil, it’s fine.”

            “Oh, don’t worry about it. I'm pretty sure I can find some wine lying around here somewhere. It’ll be pretty well aged, though.”

            “Uh, aged is good,” Darryl said in surprise as the Library left the room. Darryl stirred the meat around again absently as he waited, watching the sides brown and beginning to feel rather uncomfortable about how good it was starting to smell. The Library came back about ten minutes later, and at Darryl’s indication he poured a generous portion of wine all over the roast, covering it nearly halfway in the pot. Darryl added the vegetables back in along with the herbs, covered the pot, and stuck it in the oven. “So, for something this size I’d give that about three hours until it’s fall apart tender,” Darryl said, wiping his hands off on his shorts and barely noticing he was stroking the part of his hip that once held the flesh that was roasting before him.

            “Three hours, huh?” The Library hummed, waltzing closer to Darryl and draping himself over the human’s back. Darryl staggered under the unexpected weight as the Library traced his bound arm. “Bit longer than I thought this would take. It had better be good when it's done or I'll be very displeased!”

            “It’ll be good. Trust me, I know meat better than anyone!” Darryl boasted. “And it would be even better if I had some of my home-brew beer to go with it.”

            “Well, look at you. All kinds of talents!” The Library said warmly, a limb trailing down Darryl’s side, and Darryl felt his cheeks flush enough that his ears grew hot with it.

            “Y-yeah, that’s me. Jack of all trades!”

            “Very interesting. I assume, since you offered, that dick sucking is one of those trades?”

            Darryl’s body suddenly went cold as he remembered his frantic promise from earlier. “Oh, uh, y-you still want that, huh?”

            “Well, three hours is a long time to wait. Got to keep you busy, after all,” the Library stated as he pulled Darryl away from the stove. He trembled hard as he was turned to face the Library, the gaunt face far too close for comfort, though he felt more dread for what was going to end up in his face next.

            “Look, I uh, I know I said I would do this b-but I uh, I haven’t, I mean, I don’t… I haven’t done this before. And so I probably suck at it-“

            “Yes, that’s generally how it goes.”

            “I mean I’m probably bad at it!” Darryl stressed, breathing hard now, sweat running down his back in rivets. The Library ran a hand through Darryl’s hair in an oddly amicable rhythm, and the dad took a few deep breaths trying to calm himself down.

            “You can take your time, there’s no rush. As long as you don’t bite it off, I doubt I’ll complain. You better not do that, though.” The Library was watching his face closely and Darryl was sure his growing terror was etched firmly into it. Part of him knew there was no getting out of this. He had promised to do it. If he didn’t do it, then what reason would the Library have to believe him if he tried to bargain for something else in the future? It was just a blow job for fuck’s sake! He’d gotten them from Carol enough times over the years, he never thought less of her for it, it wasn’t a big deal.

            And yet, it was a big deal. Not the blow job itself, Darryl never thought too hard into whether or not he would be interested in giving one since he assumed he and Carol would be together forever and it would never come up as an option. But that was just it, he and Carol… yes, Carol had said she wanted a divorce, but she hadn’t said it to him, really. She had said she wanted to talk to him, and that there were problems, but things could still be fixed. And some part of Darryl, deep down, felt certain that if he willingly got on his knees and sucked the Library’s dick, even to save himself pain in the future, he would lose his chance at fixing his family. Even if he never told another soul, if Carol never knew, Darryl would know. It wouldn’t, couldn’t ever be the same as it was, if he did this.

            Darryl felt himself guided down into kneeling at the Library’s feet, held there by the shoulders as he stared dully at the Library’s crotch. One spindly hand slowly pushed down the Library's grey slacks. Darryl’s heart beat a sharp ache into his chest as the hand moved to reveal whatever kind of genitals this monster had in his pants. At the last moment Darryl tore his gaze away, tunneling his vision straight up at the Library’s face. “I can’t do it,” Darryl said, voice quiet and weak to his own ears.

            “Can’t?” The Library’s head cocked to one side. “Pretty sure I never tore your mouth off, so I don’t see what else you'd need down there.”

            Darryl’s breathing picked up again and he fought against the urge to completely hyperventilate. “I won’t- I don’t want to do this.”

            The Library’s eyebrows rose. “But you said you would.”

            “I thought I could! I thought I could, but my wife… I don’t…” Darryl felt himself choke up. “I don’t want to betray her like this. She doesn’t deserve that.”

            “But she wants a divorce.”

            “We haven’t had that talk yet. Until we do, I’m not going to do that to her. I won’t.”

            The Library looked down at Darryl for a long time, still running a hand rhythmically through his hair, holding him by the shoulders. He seemed thoughtful. “What if I said if you don’t take my cock like a good little boy, I’ll have to make you feel every bit of pain of every harvest I make of you, from now until the day you die?”

            Darryl’s eyes widened, and his eyes darted briefly to the Library’s exposed nethers. Not for long, only a glance to know that whatever was there was pale and long and definitely writhing in some manner. Darryl swallowed hard. He didn’t like pain, but he told himself it didn’t matter. This wouldn’t last until he died. He would get out of this mess, and he wouldn’t betray Carol. He would get Grant back, and they would fix this. They would. “I’m sorry. I know I promised, and usually I'd always say you should keep promises, but no. I’m not going to do it. I won’t betray Carol like that. You can do what you want, but I will not willingly do anything sexual with you, no matter the consequences. I just… I won’t do it.”

            The Library was silent, his fingers now idly scratching at Darryl’s scalp. He really didn’t want to think about how good it felt, but he didn’t move to stop the Library either. He knew he was pressing his luck as it was. It didn’t make sense to antagonize the Library any more than he had to. “You’re a loyal man, Darryl.” The Library said, finally. “Your wife really shouldn’t take that for granted. Tell you what, I’ll make another deal with you. But if you agree, you better hold up your end this time.”

            Darryl blinked rapidly a couple of times, unsure if he’d understood correctly. “Uh, what’s the deal?”

            “I will continue to ensure that you do not feel any pain while I take meat from you. I will do this, even if you act out or try to run away, or anything else like that. I may use pain to punish you, but I will not do it while harvesting your meat. Which believe me, I have no intention of stopping. I’m using a ton of willpower not to yank that sweet flesh out of that pot right now, it smells good as hell already.”

            Darryl let out a strangled laugh, ducking his head and noticing that the Library had tucked himself back into his slacks at some point. As soon as that fact sank in, Darryl’s shoulders slumped and he felt the tension drain from him faster than he thought possible a moment ago. “So uh, what do I do for you, then?”

            “In return you keep cooking for me, and once I get a hold of that communication device I’m sure you left in your van you will call your wife and get her to talk to you properly about why she wants to divorce you.” The tension was back, Darryl stiffened and leaned far away from the Library who let him go this time, instead choosing to spread his limbs wide and open handed. Darryl was intimidated, but he wouldn't admit it for anything.

            “What? Why would you care about that? I-I was going to talk to her when I got back to Earth. I can’t have that kind of conversation on the phone!”

            The Library shrugged. “Well, you’re not going back to Earth, so you may as well get that conversation out of the way any way you can.”

            Darryl grit his teeth and did his best to drag his panicking brain through his thoughts as fast as possible. The Library wants him to talk to his wife, but he needs his cell phone to do that, which he doesn’t have. So if Darryl agrees to this, he just needs to cook food, which he likes doing anyway (even if the food is him, apparently), and then make sure he gets out of there before the Library can find a way to get his phone from the other dads! And if he went to get Darryl's phone that way, then the other dads would have to know he was alive, cause why else would the Library want his phone, right? So maybe they’d come rescue him!  Darryl nodded, slowly warming up to the idea that he could work this situation to his advantage. “It’s a deal.” Darryl nearly fell backwards the rest of the way when the Library shoved a hand in front of his face. “Uh…”

            “Shake on it?” The Library grinned.

            “Oh, right!” Darryl actually found himself smirking as he grabbed the Library’s hand, shook it firmly, and then gasped as he was abruptly yanked up off the floor and to his feet. The Library was quick to crush Darryl into his side under one of his arms, steering him out of the kitchen.

            “Three hours you said, right?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Well if you’re not going to help me get off, you may as well help me organize my arcane encyclopedia collection! Fascinating stuff, I assure you. You may even enjoy it!”

            “Oh… sure, I guess.”

            “Or maybe I can set you up in the corner with a copy of my Fantasy Kama Sutra. See if we can teach you about blow jobs second hand.”

            "Oh my god."

*

         

            When the Library finally tasted the pot roast Darryl plated for him after three hours of sorting through books and making his pet uncomfortable with light sexual harassment, he completely lost control and devoured nearly the entire slab of meat in seconds. The only piece left untouched was the tiny portion that the Library had slid onto Darryl’s plate ‘just in case’. The meat was incredibly soft and sweet, and seemed to melt in his mouth. The flavor was beyond compare, and the mere idea of eating meat that was not only superior on its own but brought into its peak by the very man it was shorn from made for enough of a twist in the Library's mental and physical pleasure centers that, regrettably, the Library was pretty sure he came in his pants.

            As he came down from that unexpected high, he saw Darryl sitting across from him sullenly eating his potatoes and muttering something about the Library not taking the time to savor the meat properly. He was completely unaware that his dining companion had just reached nirvana and was going to have to figure out how to get out of there without Darryl realizing he had somehow managed to get the Library off after all.

            Darryl did finally look up to meet the Library’s still-dazed expression and appeared confused. He waved his hand in front of the Library's face and got no response, so he looked down at his own tiny portion of meat with some amount of concern and curiosity. “What the hell,” Darryl finally said, and jabbed his fork into the meat, shoveling it into his mouth and chewing. As he did so, his eyes widened comically, and he had to lower his fork to stare off into the distance in horror. 

           “Oh fuck. I am delicious.”

 

Notes:

Oops I lied about the oral sex but at least there was an orgasm heeeeeeyooooooo

Chapter 7: Scamming

Summary:

The Library's cousin comes by for a visit. The Library remembers why he doesn't usually hang around with his cousin.

Notes:

No vore in this chapter. I'm so sorry. I'll make it up next chapter probably.

7 Scamming

            Darryl had been subject to the whims of the Library for five days. He had been “harvested” twice since the pot roast incident, and it was only through fear of developing a taste for his own flesh that stopped Darryl from daring to sample his own dishes again. The Library seemed more than pleased with Darryl’s attempts at stir fry and fancy sandwiches, though Darryl had found himself forced to suck it up and use pieces of Minotaur in order to have a non-Darryl-meat version for himself. The Library had kept his part of the deal in ensuring Darryl was entirely numb before any carving took place, so Darryl vowed to keep cooking and looking for a chance to escape. Of course, escaping did have some caveats. Firstly, he had no idea where this castle was, and so he wouldn’t know what direction to go to even reach the village they had been to before. If he went the wrong way and missed it, he didn’t know how far he would be going before he saw any sign of civilization. He had no weapons except kitchen knives, and aside from the basket they had gotten at the market, it seemed there was no bags or anything to put food in for a journey. Not to mention there was an eyeball on his hand he would have to cover up, and he still didn’t know what the Library had put in his foot. He knew he would find out eventually, and when he did he definitely wouldn’t like it. Also, the Library had demonstrated he could make Darryl’s foot stop working at will, so, that was also pretty bad.

            Darryl had contemplated trying to kill the Library. But, since he didn’t have any weapons save for the kitchen knives and he wasn’t entirely sure those would work, plus the Library was demonstrably stronger than him, Darryl really wasn’t sure how to do that.  He remembered the pamphlet that said if he got the Library to destroy a book he would rip his own flesh apart, but Darryl had seen how careful and gentle the Library was when handling any of his books, so he had no idea how he could get the Library to do that, either.

            Strapped for options, Darryl did his best to fill up his free time when he wasn’t being carved up for dinner, or cooking said dinner. He had tried to plant the seeds they had bought in the dry soil out in the garden plot, watering them thoroughly and not even attempting to open the gardening books the Library had not-so-subtly left on the desk in Darryl’s bedroom. Which he had, unfortunately, starting thinking of as his bedroom, despite his best efforts. While the Library had been reading in the main hall, Darryl had cautiously retrieved some old dusty drapery from the royal bedroom and used a very old hammer and nails he found out in the courtyard stables to tack up a make-shift curtain over the bare window. He had been sleeping better, since he didn’t have to wake up at daybreak anymore. Darryl had even used the olive oil to fix the somewhat squeaky hinges on his bedroom door. He also ignored the book of home improvement tips that later turned up on his bed. Darryl wasn’t much of a reader. But he did like home improvement. Even though he didn’t open the book of home improvement tips, he did decide to take it as consent for him to fix up anything else in the castle that bothered him.

            On the afternoon of the fifth day, Darryl was out in the courtyard stables trying to convert the place into a workshop, since that’s where he found the most tools lying around. It had probably doubled as a smithy at some point, if the smelter outside it was any indication. He had managed to level out the workbench, and had decided to pop into the kitchen for some lunch (while the Library seemed content to eat once a day, Darryl still needed his three squares). As he entered the main hall, expecting to pass the Library reading as usual, he was surprised to be greeted by two voices conversing. He turned curiously to see the familiar lanky and monstrous form of the Library sitting hunched on his usual wooden chair across from… uh…

            “Glenn?!” Darryl wasted no time in running up to the two, looking from one, uncomfortably wide, smiling face to the other. “Glenn what- how long have you been here? What are you- where are Henry and Ron? Did you find the kids? What are you doing here?”

            “Hey now tiger, slow down!” Glenn batted his eyes, and the voice that had come out of his mouth was definitely not his own. It was, however, familiar. “Wow cousin, you’re right, your pet is awfully high strung!”

            “Scam?” Darryl asked weakly. “Scam Likely?”

            “The very same!” Scam Likely waved with Glenn’s hand, not making anything about this situation less weird.

            Darryl looked at the Library, helplessly gesturing at Scam. “What the fuck? Okay, why is Scam Likely here, and why does he look like Glenn?”

            “Don’t be rude, Darryl,” The Library tutted. “Why don’t you pull over a chair and join us?”

            Darryl took a sharp breath to say something, and then let it go. He had wanted to take a break anyway, so, screw it. He went to the head table, grabbed the chair that looked the least wobbly (making a mental note to level them all out later), and dragged it back to the Library’s favorite reading nook. The whole action made Darryl’s apprehension mount, as the Library and Scam were both dead silent as he did it. They watched his every move with identical smiles. Darryl tugged his chair into position and fell into it with his arms and legs crossed and a scowl on his face. “Well I can tell you’re related, anyway,” Darryl said, finally.

            “Aw Darryl, you say the nicest things!” Scam laughed, “Of course, the Library’s always been the handsome one in the family!” Scam leaned over to ruffle the Library’s hair, and the Library’s smile finally broke as he pushed the hand away.

            “I must be, since you’re still copying whatever face takes your fancy,” the Library said dryly as Scam shrugged, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair. His facial expression mimicked Glenn so well it made Darryl stare, even when Scam winked at him. He clearly was doing it on purpose, but damn it, Darryl was suddenly hit by how much he missed the other dads. It was too much on top of everything else, and Darryl had to push this conversation forward before he risked displaying an emotion.

            “Uh huh, great, so this is just a family reunion, or what?” Darryl asked bluntly to hide his discomfort.

            Scam took his time, examining Glenn’s nails critically before answering. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I'd do some housewarming. I had heard from your former companions that you had been swallowed whole by my cousin here, and I was curious to find out if that’s really all that happened. I had a feeling someone took a page out of the ol’ Scam Likely Handbook of Handy Scams! And looks like he did.”

            The Library seemed to preen a little at that. “Well, it is one of my more popular lend-outs.”

            Darryl twitched a little and looked down at his hands. “You were with the other dads?”

            “Uh huh!” Scam Likely nodded happily. “Had a fun time. Invited them to one of my famous riddle houses for a high stakes truth or dare game. I was disappointed you couldn’t make it, but maybe we can make up for it now!”

            “High stakes truth or dare?” Darryl balked. “What do you mean? What did you do to them? Are they- did you steal Glenn’s skin or something?! Is that why you- hey!” Darryl had started to rise out of his seat, but the Library was quick to stretch out a limb to push him back down.

            “Calm down, Darryl. No need to worry. As far as I know, I’m the only flesh-taker in the family.”

            “It’s true! I subsist entirely on the feelings of befuddlement and misery one feels after being taken in by a grand scam!” Scam laughed. “This disguise was just part of the scam that lured the dads to me in the first place. But I mean, you gotta admit it’s a pretty good look on me! Thought I’d keep it for a while, see where it takes me, you know?”

            Darryl breathed a soft sigh of relief at one fear assuaged, but soon tensed again. “Alright, fine, what did you do with the other dads, then?”

            “Like I said, we played truth or dare!”

            “Why would they agree to that?”

            “Dressed up as Glenn, stole something they needed, and threatened to destroy it forever if they didn’t play!”

            Darryl blinked in disbelief for a second. “Okay, but… okay. One, what did you steal? Two, why did you want to play truth or dare?”

            “Took their van, obvi,” Scam shrugged. “That was the only thing they had worth stealing. And I wanted to play because I was bored, and I knew it would fill them with lots of absolutely mouth-watering despair!”

            “They lost the VAN?! MY van?!” Darryl made to get up again and was forced back down once more. “Quit doing that!”

            “Darryl, if you can’t behave in front of company, I’ll have to lock you in your room. Don’t want that, do you?”

            “I’m not- I’m not a damn pet you can just-“ Darryl shut his eyes and counted to ten backwards and forwards a few times, and slowly calmed himself down. He opened his eyes and looked at Scam as he tried to keep his voice level. “So, you took the van. Do you still have it?”

            “Oh no, they won it back. Well, mostly,” Scam shrugged. “I threw the back seat down a bottomless pit, but I think they can still make it work without that.”

            Darryl whimpered at the thought of his beast having to go through such humiliation, but managed to suck it up enough to keep drilling for information on the dads. “And what did you make them do to get the car back?”

            “Honestly, not that much. I don’t really have anything against them, so I only made them answer a few riddles and do one round of truth or dare. Ron had to give up wearing pants forever, Glenn refused to become a DJ for a Linkin Park cover band so lost the backseat of the van, and Henry had to admit which of his kids was his favorite. I didn’t think he would answer that one to be honest, and I REALLY didn’t expect what the honest answer was, but I guess he didn’t want to risk me deciding to throw the engine in the pit or something.”

            “So you just did all that, gave them back the van, and came here?”

            “Yeah, pretty much.”

            Darryl ran his hand through his hair and bit his lip. “Uh, well, did they seem okay?”

            Scam’s eyebrow rose. “They seemed pretty bummed out and anxious if I’m being honest. Squabbled a lot. Weren’t as much fun to scam as I was hoping they’d be.” Darryl wasn’t sure how that made him feel. He was glad the other dads might be missing him, but felt bad that he left them like that. Even if this wasn’t exactly where Darryl thought he’d end up, he still technically volunteered to sacrifice himself so the other dads could escape. Maybe they could have still fought, but Darryl gave up. He gave up his flesh to the Library, and now he was stuck here, unable to help anymore. That hurt. That hurt a lot.

            The Library straightened in his seat and nudged Darryl’s shoulder. “Darryl, you doing alright there? You've gone a bit quiet.”

            Darryl sniffled unexpectedly, and immediately felt his cheeks redden. He wiped at his eyes with his hand and coughed loudly to cover up his loss of face. “I’m fine. It’s fine, don’t worry about me. Everything’s fine.”

            “If you say so…” The Library didn't sound convinced.

            “So, wanna play truth or dare?” Scam asked brightly, uncaring of Darryl’s clear distress. “It’ll be fun!”

            “Kind of a juvenile game, cousin.”

            “I’m kind of a juvenile guy. Come on, you know you want me to dare you and Darryl to kiss!” Scam winked and laughed as Darryl groaned and the Library actually seemed to look a touch embarrassed himself.

            “I’m not going to play truth or dare with you guys, not a chance.” Darryl shook his head.

            “You know, you could use it to drill me for information!” Scam sang, “After all, who knows what other interesting things I may know about the other dads' adventures in the outside world without you? You could make me tell you anything. Ooh, you could even dare me to help you scam your way out of here!”

            “Scam…” the Library said in a warning tone as Darryl rapidly warmed to this idea.

            “Heh, yeah, I guess I could do that!” Darryl nodded along, “Heck, I could dare the Library to let me go!”

            “Except I wouldn’t do that,” the Library said flatly.

            “Ooh, then you’d have to take a penalty!” Scam grinned.

            “Wait, what kind of penalty?” Darryl asked.

            “Goooooood question… well, I guess there’s only ever one fair penalty for the ol’ Library, huh?”

            The Library clenched all his hands into fists at the same time. “No.”

            “You’ll simply have to give me one of your books, FOREVER!”

            The Library snarled, doing a full body twitch that sucked in his skin and made every bone and vein in his body stand out grotesquely. Darryl flinched back from him. “Oh, so you would DESTROY-?"

            “Not destroy!” Scam said lightly. “Just take! Forever! It’ll be safe, but you won’t ever get it back. And you aren’t allowed to take my flesh for it, either!”

            “Why would I agree to this? I don’t see what I would get out of it.” The Library’s eyes narrowed, but his flesh expanded back to normal. Darryl visibly relaxed at the same time.

            “Come on, don’t you want to play truth or dare with your pet?” Scam grinned.

            “Not enough to risk losing my books, or risk him trying to get me to set him free. Which, by the way, I definitely won’t do, but I can see him asking it anyway just to be difficult.”

            Scam sighed, hummed, and then casually reached into his jacket pocket. “Fine, I guess there’s one thing I could trade you for your cooperation…” And with that, Scam pulled out Darryl’s Nokia cell phone.

            “My phone!” Darryl gasped in shock. “But how? The van! You took the van and you stole- gimmie my phone!”

            “Nope!” Scam popped the end of the word and tucked the phone away again, but the Library’s attention seemed to be caught in full now.

            “Fine, I’ll play if you give me the phone. Now.” The Library held out a limb, but Scam shook his head and a wagged a finger.

            “Ah, ah, ah, dear cousin. This is some very rare and impressive technology! Very few of these exist in the world. I couldn’t give it up for just a game of truth or dare.”

            “What else do you want, then?” The Library asked, slowly curling his limb back to settle under his chin.

            “Hmm, well, how about a game of truth or dare first. If you complete that, you can answer my riddles three! Solve them all, and one cell phone I will provide for thee!”

              The Library snorted. “I’m very good at riddles, you know.”

            “I know, but I think I have some good ones this time!” Scam warped Glenn’s face into the most heartbreaking puppy dog eyes Darryl had ever seen. He prayed the real Glenn never realized his face was capable of looking like that, or there would be no stopping him. “Pleeeeease? There’s no one better to test my riddles on than you!”

            The Library sighed and looked put upon. “Oh, well, I suppose if I must.”

            “HA! What about you, Darryl? You’re in, right?” Scam asked. Darryl gave a firm nod.

            “I’m in.”

            “SPLENDID!” Scam waved a hand and suddenly the lights dimmed, which was weird, because it was definitely still daylight. But it was as if a cover had been pulled over the dingy stained glass windows above them. With another wave, a glowing orange orb appeared in the center of their tiny circle, turning slowly in the air.

            “Really, Scam? I have dice lying around somewhere.”

            “I’m a showman. Besides, this is more fun!”

            “Uh, what is this?” Darryl asked, pointing needlessly at the orb.

            “This is how we determine who goes first!” Scam said, clapping his hands three times and the orb pulsed with each clap. When he spoke again, his voice echoed far more than even the large stone room should have allowed for. “Orb of Indecision! We three here, Scam Likely, the Library, and Darryl Wilson, are entering into a tournament of Truth or Dare! Indicate unto us  who should receive the first decision!” The orb pulsed again. Once, twice, thrice, and just as a vision of a word began to fade into view in the orb’s depths, the entire surface started to pixilate and crack. Within seconds the whole thing crumbled to dust and fell from the air, leaving only a pile of sand on the floor.

            “Uh, was that supposed to happen?” Darryl asked.

            “Where did you get that orb, Scam?”

            Scam’s mouth was hanging open and he was gibbering a little. “I- but- that- I-“ He was blinking rapidly and finally broke into hysterical laughter for nearly a minute.

            “What’s going on?!” Darryl looked at the Library, who was absolutely delighted.

            “Dear, oh dear, did the great Scam Likely get scammed?”

            Scam bit his lip and waved a hand, dissipating the sand on the ground. “Let’s just say that when I next see Mark I’m either going to congratulate or kill him, I’m still mulling on which. Maybe both!”

            “I’m starting to think this wasn’t what was supposed to happen.”

            “Still got those dice lying around, Library?”

*

            After a moment of the Library digging his hand down his throat, he finally found his dice case and pulled it out. He hadn’t used it in a while, so it was pretty drenched, and he definitely could detect traces of warmth coming from Scam’s hands when he passed the dice to his cousin. It was a good thing they were using them, then. If they’d been in there undisturbed for many more months they might have dissolved into his body entirely. Scam sorted through the dice in his hand, needlessly complicating things as usual. “Alright, let’s see… ooh, I know, let’s roll a D6 for who’s going to get asked, then another for who gets to ask… maybe we could use the D20 for how bad of a dare we could do! Or maybe I’ll do that just for me, for funsies… And the D4 for penalties?” While the Library had been rooting through his innards for the dice, Scam had told Darryl to go and find them some sort of table to roll them on. Darryl seemed strangely eager to run off to find one as soon as the Library stretched out his jaw. He returned holding a small wooden table-like thing over his shoulder and looking oddly proud of himself.

            “Where did you get that from?” the Library asked, eyebrow raised.

            “I made it, just now!” Darryl smirked, setting the table firmly on the floor, only for it to wobble. Darryl coughed out of embarrassment, and then made for one of the Library’s book piles.

            “Oh no, you are NOT using one of my books to level your shitty table, Darryl!”

            “I couldn’t find any other tables! I found some wood, and I had nails… it’s a table! I didn’t have a measuring tape, and I was trying to finish fast-“

            “It’s not that bad,” Scam shrugged, playing with the table top and rocking it back and forth a little. “I can work with it.”

            “Yes, come sit down, Darryl. Thank you for the table.”

            “I can fix it after, probably,” Darryl muttered as he sat, flinching when the Library set a hand on his knee and left it there. Darryl cleared his throat and looked at Scam. “Sooo, who goes first?”

            “First, one rule, no daring anyone to kill or otherwise destroy themselves,” the Library said quickly. Scam rolled his eyes and nodded before returning his attention to Darryl.

            “Let’s find out!” Scam held up a die. “One or two is me, three or four is the Library, five or six is Darryl!” He rolled the die. “Three. The Library! And…” He rolled again. “Six! Darryl! Darryl gets to ask the Library! Go ahead Darryl. Let’s see the dumb dumb play.” The Library watched Darryl glare at Scam, and then turn to him awkwardly, muttering ‘truth or dare’ followed by something about feeling like a teenager. The Library sighed irritably. He wanted that phone. He really wanted that phone. He knew if he didn’t do this, Scam was enough of an ass to destroy it. So he had to do this. If he chose dare, no doubt that Darryl would dare him to set him free, which would result in the Library losing one of his books forever when he refused. Truth might still be a problem if Darryl asked how to kill him, but that was a little less certain. He seemed to recall lending him a pamphlet that told him one of the very few ways he could be defeated, so it was possible Darryl assumed it was the only way.

            “Truth,” The Library said finally, carefully watching as Darryl’s mouth tightened in disappointment.

            “Okay, um,” Darryl bit his lip, clearly doing his best to think. Poor boy, it certainly wasn’t his strong suit. “Um… alright. So, I assume you probably won’t tell me if I ask you anything too important, and I don’t want to waste this so… uh…” Darryl glared down at the Library’s hand on his knee. He tried pushing it off and didn't manage to budge it an inch. “Urgh, okay. Okay, so, do you actually have to eat human flesh, or is it just something fucked up you do for kicks?”

            “Oh, well, that’s actually sort of complicated,” The Library admitted, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I won’t starve to death without it, so locking me up somewhere hoping to starve me out won’t work! But I do use the flesh to do things, like make books, and add to my own body. Which I enjoy doing, so it’s more than just ‘for kicks’ as you say.”

            “Boo, I knew that already!” Scam jeered from his chair.

            “I didn’t,” Darryl frowned.

            “Just roll the dice again,” the Library sighed, used to his cousin’s antics. Scam huffed and rolled.

            “Six, Darryl, aaaaand, one! That’s meeeeee!” Scam grinned with absolute delight, looking at Darryl brightly. “Alright hot stuff, truth or daaaaare?”

            Darryl immediately blushed, and the Library perked up in interest. Whatever Darryl picked, he knew that Scam would make it interesting. “Well I know what’ll happen if I pick dare…” Darryl started, and Scam giggled.

            “Ooh, are you sure about that? You may be surprised!”

            Darryl looked about to answer, then paused. “Wait, uh, what’s my penalty? I don’t care if you take any books, and I don’t have anything else for you to take.”

            Scam squinted at Darryl thoughtfully for a moment. “You know, initially, I was thinking about making you do a strip tease. But the more I think about what I've heard about you, the more I think nudity doesn’t actually bother you that much. So how about this: just as for each round the Library refuses he loses a book, ergo loses knowledge, the same should apply to you. Therefore, for every round you refuse, I’ll take one of your memories!”

            Darryl blinked. “Uh, what kind of memories? Like, are we talking early childhood, or high school, or like, memory from the last couple of weeks?”

            “How about you refuse and find out?” Scam taunted, and Darryl balked.

            “What the hell? But- you could take something important! Like the birth of my son, or-“

            “Aaand I could take my cousin’s favorite book in the whole world. It’s fair.”

            Darryl’s face twisted, hands clenching. “Well, what are you giving up if you refuse, then?”

            “Won’t come up,” Scam shrugged. “I never turn down a truth or dare.”

            “Well, you do turn down one,” the Library reminded, and Scam’s lips pressed together for a second.

            “Okaaaaay, fine. Well, if you want to be an asshole and dare me to do the ONE thing I won’t do, I’ll give up… I don’t know, what do you want?”

            The Library pursed his lips for a moment, though it was just for show. He knew what he wanted. “An I O U. One scam, whatever I choose.”

            “Alright, fine. IF you get to ask me truth or dare, and IF I choose dare, you can use your dare to be an asshole and collect one free scam.” Scam grinned mockingly. “Good luck with that!”

            “Dare.” Darryl said, finally, attracting both the Library and Scam’s attention back to him.

            “Ooh, lucky you Library, your boy toy knows how to have a good time!” Scam grinned. “I dare you to kiss the Library.”

            Darryl’s eyes widened. “What? But- I- you said you weren’t going to do that!”

            “I’m pretty sure I didn’t say anything remotely like that.” Scam shrugged. “Truth or dare is a sexy game, Darryl. Go get sexy.”

            “Oh my god.” As Darryl made hesitant eye contact with the Library again, the Library found himself feeling surprisingly giddy. He had kissed Darryl before, of course. Darryl had even kissed him, sort of. But the idea of Darryl knowingly and willingly choosing to kiss him felt, well, exciting. “I… I guess…” Darryl winced, “I guess I already kissed enough guys in this world… god. Okay.” Darryl moved to stand. The Library finally let go of Darryl’s knee as the dad approached him, leaning down over the Library’s chair. Not terribly far, as the Library’s torso was pretty long, but far enough to lay a single, firm kiss on the Library’s lips. The Library wasn’t sure, but he thought something deep in his guts may have fluttered a little. Though that might’ve been from having that delightful scent so close to his nose. He wasn’t sure about that, though. Darryl drew away and practically slammed himself back down in his chair, breathing far harder than he should have been. “There. Did it. Next?”

            “Ooooh, so forceful!” Scam swooned, “My cousin’s aaaawfully lucky!” The Library didn’t see fit to respond to that, so Scam simply rolled again. “One, me, and six, Darryl!” Scam grinned. “Sorry cousin, no dice for you! Ask away!”

            “Truth or dare.”

            “Hmm… dare! Make it a good one!” Scam winked saucily.

            Darryl paused. “Can I dare you to just give me my phone?”

            Scam’s eyes widened and he looked down at his pocket. “Oh, shit. Um… no?”

            “It wasn’t in the rules that I couldn’t!”

            “Okay, but like, I can’t do that, though. Or the game would stop.”

            Darryl folded his arms. “You owe me a scam, then.” Scam gagged a little and looked between Darryl and the Library, who was utterly delighted with his pet. It was always satisfying to see his cousin lose control of a situation.

            “Uh, fuck, yeah, okay, I guess I owe you a scam.” Scam seemed extremely put out as he rolled the dice again. “You guys suck at playing this game by the way. This is the last round, and then I’m switching to riddles.”

            “Sounds like someone’s a sore loser,” Darryl said, folding his arms smugly. The Library leaned over to wrap a limb around Darryl’s shoulders, ignoring his struggling.

            “Oh yes, cousin! I was just starting to enjoy myself!”

            “Well, I just thought Darryl would care to know what the other dads were up to, or might dare me to, I don't know, HELP HIM SAVE HIS SON, but I guess not, so…”

            “Oh shit, wait, can I undo that? I’ll ask something else!”

            “Nope, definitely too late now.” The dice rolled, and Scam smirked. “Truth or dare?”

            The Library frowned. “Truth.”

            “No fun at all,” Scam sighed, “Alright, who do you have a crush on?”

            The Library huffed. “What is with you, today? Your truth or dare games usually focus on making your victims face their innermost weaknesses and taking from them that which they believe gives them their strength?”

            “Yeah, but today I think it’s more fun to tease you about liking that dumb dumb over there.”

            “Uh, what?” Darryl asked, a concern on his face. The Library rolled his eyes.

            “Fine. I have a crush on the dumb dumb. You’re an asshole, Scam.”

            “Guilty!” Scam laughed. “Now for riddles!”

            “Hold up, sorry, I didn’t hear that right.” Darryl let out some nervous laughter. “Did uh, did you just say you have a crush on me?”

            “I said I have a crush on the dumb dumb,” The Library looked at Darryl with a smirk. “Are you a dumb dumb, Darryl?” Darryl’s eyes widened and he immediately seemed to find his hands absolutely fascinating. The Library got the feeling he would avoid pursuing that train of thought for a little while anyway. “Tell us your riddles three, then, Scam. The sooner I get that phone, the better!”

            “Hey, if I guess the riddles before he does, will you give the phone to me instead?”

            “Oh no, you two get to work as a team!”

            The Library grinned. “It’s not as though I won’t let you use it, Darryl.” His eyes narrowed, though the grin didn’t move. “And it’s not like you haven’t already promised to use it. Or are you planning to break our little deal again?” Darryl shut his mouth and wouldn’t look the Library in the eye. Not the best sign. The Library might need to remind him what the consequences of breaking their deal were.

            “Alright, so, first riddle. Let’s start with something easy.” Scam steepled his fingers. “What gets wet, while drying?” 

             Darryl fidgeted in his seat while the Library thought, and then started spewing out answers in a low voice. “Uh, a hairdryer! Wait no, you don’t have those. Um, a sprinkler! It’s wet, but it can dry out! Wait, you don’t have sprinklers either. A bucket!”

            “A towel.” The Library said finally, over Darryl’s babbling. “Not really a riddle master, are you, sport?” Darryl huffed indignantly and glowered down at his hands again. Scam chuckled.

            “Alright, you got that one, cousin. Let’s go a bit harder now, shall we?” Scam cleared his throat. “I have branches, but no fruit, trunk, or leaves. What am I?”

            “A dead tree!” Darryl blurted loudly. “Or uh, a pine… no… branches? A-“

            “Nope, not a dead tree! Didn’t get that one!” Scam shrugged. “One win one loss, last one decides it all!”

            The Library glared at Darryl. “How about you keep your mouth shut so I can win your phone back? You’re not helping.” Darryl’s lips pressed together stubbornly, and the Library debated gagging him as Scam launched into his last riddle.

            “Alright, last one’s a toughie, so pay attention!” Scam seemed utterly delighted by the negative feeling that had settled over his companions. “I have many jackets, but rarely wear one. I have many spines, but truly need none. Many have sought me to take what I know. I lend so to take what the little ones grow. Who am I?”

            “Oh, that’s easy!” Darryl started, but the Library was quick to slam a hand over his mouth.

            “How about I handle this one, hmm?” The Library said loudly as Darryl struggled in his grip. He put another hand behind Darryl’s head to hold onto him better as he thought. “Let’s see… jackets and spines as obviously books. Many have sought knowledge from books… lend knowledge… take what little ones grow hmm… take their attention, perhaps?” The Library muttered to himself as Darryl struggled harder, pointing at the Library frantically. As though that would make him loosen his grip so his pet could embarrass himself!

            “Books. Yes, the answer is books!”

            “Nope, wrong!” Scam grinned. “Close, but wrong!” The Library was so shocked that he let go of Darryl, who coughed and glared.

            “It was YOU, obviously! The answer is, ‘the Library!’”

            Scam burst into cackles. “He’s right! Should have listened to Darryl! Never thought I’d say that.”

            “Me? The answer was… oh yes, very clever. Uh-huh, I’m going to fucking kill you.” The Library started to get out of his seat, but Scam waved a dismissive hand.

            “Now, now, you agreed to my little game and you lost! Suck it up! No phone for you.”

            The Library grit his teeth. Scam was right, but Scam was also usually pretty easy to bend. “Scam, you have no use for that phone. Surely we can do a trade?”

            “Hmm… nope!”

            “A bonus round, maybe?” The Library asked with a sigh.

            Scam brightened. “Interesting! What did you have in mind?”

            “How about we ask you a riddle?” Darryl suggested, “If we come up with a riddle you can’t answer, you give us the phone.”

            “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” the Library was surprised. “What do you say, Scam?”

            “Hmm, it’s definitely interesting. But it is more than was agreed to. Tell you what, I’ll let you play this bonus round, but you both have to give up a penalty to make it happen. One memory and one book, and I’ll let you play for your phone. But I will warn you, I’m VERY good at riddles.”

            “Okay, fine, take a memory then.” Darryl answered without hesitation, and the Library looked at him with concern.

            “Um, Darryl, coming up with riddles is actually fairly hard. You might want to think before you just-“

            “I need my phone back,” Darryl muttered. “Let him take what he wants. I’ve got lots of memories.”

            “Done and done!” Scam’s eyes glowed and the Library watched Darryl’s aura suddenly become visible, a glowing white energy field pulsing around his head that Scam reached into and grabbed some of. Scam pulled it toward himself and breathed it in like cigar smoke. “Ooh, yummy!”

            “W-what did you take?” Darryl shivered. “I know you took something, what did you take?”

            “Just kind of took at random. Let’s see…”  Scam squinted a little in thought. “Huh, this is weird. Kind of shaky on what a movie is, but I seem to know the entire plot of the movie ‘Die Hard’ now?”

            “Die Hard?! You took Die Hard?” Darryl gaped like a fish. “Wait no, I know Die Hard is a movie. I still know it! I definitely watched that with Grant, and Carol, and my dad! I talked about it before, but I can’t… I don’t… what… what happens in Die Hard?” Darryl looked so lost, and the Library had to assume this was an important memory.

            “Now hold on, I don’t know if I want to pay your penalty!” The Library said quickly as Scam held out a hand to him, next.

            “Ooh, that’s not very nice! Do you want Darryl to have given up his precious ‘Die Hard’ memory for nothing? It was a pretty good memory after all. Surely you can give up one little book!”

            The Library grumbled, shifting awkwardly under Scam’s expectant and Darryl’s apprehensive looks. “… which book?”

            “You know full well that’s not how it works!”

            The Library groaned and looked at Darryl. “Do you even have a plan for this? I don’t even know if I know a riddle Scam won’t know. You come from another world though, so you might have something.” Darryl sucked in his cheeks and nodded. The Library’s eyebrows rose. “You’re sure?” Darryl nodded again.

            “I think I have one, I mean, I made it up so, at least he won’t have heard it?”

            “You made it up? Here, whisper it to me.” The Library leaned in, shivering in delight as Darryl moved in to hiss into his ear. The heat and vibration of it tingled, and he had to concentrate to understand the words. He blinked. “Alright. I have no idea what the answer is so, you know what? Go for it.” The Library looked at Scam. “Take a book.”

             “Oooh, this must be a good one!” Scam lurched up from his seat in a fluid motion and wandered over to one of the Library’s book piles. He grabbed a large, red tome from halfway down the stack, barely looking at it before it glowed and shrank down in his hand. He slipped it into his pocket.

             The Library glared at Scam, knowing full well which book it was. “You took that one on purpose.”

             “You can’t prove that.” Scam simpered, turning to Darryl. “Go on then, wow me.”

            “Ok its not perfect but um,” Darryl took a deep breath. “It keeps a little creature warm. You can buy it in a package. If it goes through two arms, it goes back where it started. What is it?”

            Scam stared at Darryl for a few moments. Then he grunted, first rubbing at his chin and then running a hand through his long hair. “Huh.” He squinted at Darryl, leaning backward and forward in his seat. Finally he threw his hands in the hair. “Alright, I gotta admit, you stumped me. What’s the answer?”

            “It’s a pigskin.” Darryl said, looking rightfully pleased with himself. “It keeps a creature warm, a pig. You can buy it in a store, like pork rinds in a package. And if it goes through two arms, like a football, it goes back to the starting line.”

            Scam nodded slowly, and even applauded politely. “Not bad, not bad, have to remember that one.”

            “I did a riddle!”

            “Yep, that’s a solid riddle.”

            “I will admit that I didn’t expect it from you, but you definitely delivered!” The Library grinned, slapping Darryl on the back perhaps a little harder than necessary. He then turned to Scam with several limbs outstretched. “Now, the phone, if you please?” Scam pulled out the phone, though at the last moment dodged the Library’s limbs and pressed the phone into Darryl’s outstretched hand instead. “Ah, cousin, I believe you promised that phone to me?”

            “Yes, but it was Darryl’s riddle, and he agreed to the penalty first. Plus, I like him more than you right now, so he can hold onto it.” Scam looked at Darryl and winked. “But if you need to use Darryl’s phone, he has to let you, or he loses phone privileges. Sound fair?”

            “Er. I guess,” Darryl agreed, likely not able to think of a reason why the Library would need to use it. The annoying thing was the Library couldn’t think of a reason why he would need it either, which is probably why Scam worded it that way. This was why he didn’t usually invite his cousin around for tea. Darryl tucked his phone safely into his pocket as Scam Likely stood up and stretched.

            “Well, I guess since you got your phone back, you can just ask the other dads about their adventures yourself.” Scam said lightly as the Library glared. “And if you ever want to cash in on that scam, just give me a ring! My number’s in there, of course.” The Library clenched his many hands. “Anyway, don’t want to overstay my welcome. Enjoy calling your wife, though!” The Library relaxed a little as Darryl suddenly tensed. “See you laaaaater!” And with that, Scam dropped something from his hand and there was a loud bang and flash of light. Scam vanished in a puff of glimmering white smoke, leaving Darryl and the Library alone once again.

            “Can I wait before I call Carol?” Darryl asked before the Library was able to say anything.

            The Library frowned, but didn’t dismiss him right away. “For how long?”

            “Just till tomorrow.” Darryl groaned softly, running a hand over his pocket where the phone was. “I just need to think of what to say to her.”

            The Library wanted Darryl to do it and get it out of the way, so he could find an excuse to destroy that phone before it could cause him trouble. On the other hand, if Darryl didn’t say everything he wanted to his wife, he might still find moral reason to refuse the Library’s advances going forward. And the Library very much wanted to make some advances. The Library steepled many of his fingers in consideration. “Alright, tell you what. You can have until tomorrow, but you have to promise not to make any other calls on that phone until you’ve called your wife. I’ll know if you do!”

            “Yeah, yeah I know,” Darryl nodded, “Yeah that’s fair. Okay.”

            “Okay!” The Library grinned. Things were going to turn in his favor after all.

*

            After dinner that night where the Library tucked into a well roasted portion of Darryl’s shoulder, Darryl lay on his bed in the fading candlelight with his phone on his chest. The Library had gone back to the main hall to peruse his books again, and the last Darryl saw he was so engrossed in reading that he hadn’t even answered when Darryl said he was turning in early. Darryl had no idea what he was going to say to Carol. He couldn’t just say “yeah, so, Grant’s still missing and I can’t help him because I’m enslaved to a monster that keeps eating parts of me, but hopefully the other dads will save him.” This was such a mess, and the Library expected him to talk about Carol wanting a divorce, and there was absolutely no good way to have that conversation on a phone with the Library breathing down his neck. Darryl almost wished Scam hadn’t shown up. He needed more time. He hadn’t even had a chance to escape yet! But how was he going to even make an attempt when the Library controlled two of his freaking limbs? He didn’t like to think about it too hard, but he was really screwed here.

            That was when Darryl’s phone started vibrating. Darryl looked down at it in surprise. He hadn’t set it to vibrate. He didn’t know how. It must’ve been Scam. He looked down at his bound hand, and then used his other one to answer. He held the phone to his ear, but before he could say ‘hello’ Scam had already started speaking.

            “I want you to listen to me very carefully, Darryl. Do not speak. We don’t want my nosy cousin knowing I was calling you, after all!” Darryl found himself nodding, but didn’t dare breathe a sound. “Are… are you listening? Look, I know I just said don’t speak, but I can’t see you through this thing so I actually do need something here. Grunt if you can hear me.” Darryl grunted. “Splendid! Alright, so, I owe you a scam, right? I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I have to assume that a dumb dumb like you probably won't think of a good scam, or else will entirely forget you have a scam in waiting, so I’m going to help you out here. How would you like me to scam you out of that castle?”  Darryl grunted again. "I’m just going to assume that’s a yes. Perfect! Now there was a little turnip-like root veggie that I happened to notice in your kitchen.” Darryl could hear the smile in Scam’s words. “Let me tell you a little about a very rare little plant known as ‘Smuggler’s Root’…”

            Darryl listened very carefully, and for the first time in a while, hope blossomed in his chest.

Chapter 8: Scramming

Summary:

Darryl makes a bid for freedom, runs into a random encounter, and learns what the Library did to his foot. He was right, he doesn't like it.

Notes:

THERE IS HELLA VORE IN THIS CHAPTER get ready gang.

8 Scramming

             Darryl crept down the empty hallways toward the kitchen. He hoped that the Library would assume he was making himself a late night snack, and wouldn’t bother to check up on him. This was because, although Darryl was indeed planning on getting a late night snack, he also was planning a high stakes escape attempt. 

            The kitchen was dark when he reached it, and Darryl instinctively looked for a light switch. Then he remembered that Faerun sucks, and there were no electric lights to be found. In lieu of that, Darryl felt around for the stove and the flint stones that were next to it, which he had been using to light the stove when the Library wasn’t around to do it by magic. It took him a couple of tries, but soon he had lit the roasting fireplace and the crackling flames brought the room to orange-tinted life. Darryl went over what Scam had told him on the phone as he headed for the cupboard, where he had stored the food from the market. He wished he had been able to ask Scam some questions, since his instructions had been pretty bare bones.

            ‘I know you’re kind of an idiot, so I’m going to keep this really simple. Get the Smuggler’s Root. Eat HALF of it. Keep the other half for later. This will give you temporary high level wizard powers. It will last for an hour, but you will be super drunk after about ten minutes. Also this stuff is hard core so like, you’re gonna be majorly hung over after this.’

            Darryl pulled the turnip-like root out of the cupboard and stared at it for a minute. It looked pretty normal to him, but then, he didn’t have any means of detecting magic. He would have to trust Scam, which felt like an oxymoron, but this was his last hope to avoid an awkward phone conversation with his wife. He was going to jump on it like a man. He shoved the Smuggler’s Root into his pocket, and pulled out a slab of Minotaur meat from the storage pit. He proceeded to cut it into strips, so that it would cook faster on the open flame of the fireplace. If he was going to escape, he was going to have to bring some kind of food with him. He wished he had something better than a used pillowcase to put actual food into, but it was a desperate situation. Darryl shoved his cooked meat, along with the rest of the spotty apples, into his pillowcase. He slung it over his shoulder, and put out the fire. It was time to head for the royal bedroom.

            ‘So what you want to do after you eat the first half of the root is immediately jump down into the labyrinth and cast Dispel Magic. Your magic level will be beefed up enough that this SHOULD stop my cousin from being able to track you until the magic wears off. Then cast both Invisibility and Silence, because he’s def gonna be coming for you the second his tracking spell drops.’

             Darryl stood over the hole in the floor of the royal bedroom, feeling apprehensive. He knew that the Library was aware of the Labyrinth’s layout from his previous Minotaur misadventure. Even if he didn’t know Darryl could hide himself with magic, he was putting a lot of money on being able to get out of that place before the magic wore off. Plus, he had to do it while intoxicated. Running around in pitch blackness, drunk, with the Library scuttling after him threatening to rip all his flesh off at once, was possibly one of the most terrifying things he could think of. It would be so easy to just turn back to the kitchen, put his food away, and go back to bed. He was pretty tired after all. He didn’t necessarily have to do this today. Of course, if he did wait, he would have to call Carol, and he would be spending at least one more day here. Maybe he could deal with that, but he had more to think about than just himself! He ran his hand over the cell phone, heavy in his pocket. He had to find the other dads. He had to find Grant. He had to get home to Carol, whatever that meant. Darryl started taking deep breaths to steel his nerves. That got out of control after the eighth or ninth deep breath, so he held his breath instead. He really hoped that the Library was deep into that book, and wasn’t paying enough attention to wonder why Darryl’s heart was beating so fast. He pulled out the Smuggler’s Root, broke it in half, and shoved one piece in his mouth, chewing as quickly as possible. The first thing he noticed, aside from the bitter taste, was that a tingling sensation spread over his teeth and his tongue went numb. He really hoped that Scam hadn’t poisoned him. He swallowed hard, coughing a bit as he felt the larger chunks force their way down his esophagus. He beat his chest a couple of times as the tingling numbness faded from his mouth, but it seemed to follow down his throat and, bizarrely, even down to his stomach. Darryl’s eyes widened as the tingling curdled in his belly, and he burped louder than he thought possible as what felt like extreme indigestion settled into him and then dissipated just as fast. That had been weird, but what followed felt a lot better. A pleasant warmth bloomed deep inside of him, relaxing out into his limbs, and gave him the light, heady feeling of having had a couple of beers with his soccer friends down at the pub.

            Darryl cleared his throat, a gentle smile curving onto his face as he raised a hand and said clearly, “I cast Dispel Magic.”

            As far as Darryl could tell, all that happened was that his foot and hand grew hot for a moment, and then felt entirely normal. Darryl grinned and jumped down into the hole, casting Silence as he fell, and doing a perfect Blade landing on the floor. He felt like his knee hit the ground a bit too hard, but the warmth flooding his body softened any ache that might’ve been coming from it as he staggered to his feet. He cast Invisibility next, and was already halfway down the corridor into the darkness before he remembered Scam had given him one more spell to cast.

           ‘Lastly, cast Know Direction. It'll make you know where north is. Head north. The way out is north. If you cast it strong enough, you should keep heading that way out of instinct, even when you start getting too drunk to think straight. Just go as fast as possible, you’ll reach the exit.’

            Darryl cast the spell just as a loud thud echoed down the corridor from behind him. By that point, however, Darryl was starting to forget what he was doing running around in the dark. He did think that this one direction felt like a good way to go, though. The guy behind him sounded pretty mad. As Darryl started running faster, he started to laugh. This was fun! How long had it been since he’d run like this? Maybe more recently than he thought, but he couldn’t place a time on it, everything felt pretty fuzzy now. This was a good direction to go, though. That guy behind him sounded like he was pretty close by. He sounded pretty mad. Darryl ran into a wall and groaned, not noticing that his voice didn’t echo as he tried to get his bearings. He started feeling along the wall so he could keep going in his favorite direction again. The guy behind him sure sounded funny when he ran. He scuttled like an insect, with too many limbs, and he was swearing a lot. It was hard to figure out exactly what he was saying, though. Darryl really wanted to keep moving forward again. A rush of wind came from behind him as his pursuer turned sharply and ran past where Darryl was pressed against the wall. The too-many footfalls faded away.

            “Huh, guesh he weren’t lookin fer meh,” Darryl slurred to himself as he finally found a doorway and nearly fell through it, finally continuing forward again.

            ‘Just keep going north. You’ll run into a village at some point, but it’ll probably take a while. If you start feeling less drunk, you need to eat that other half of that root. If you don’t do that, you’re fucked for sure. But don’t worry, I’m sure a dumb dumb like you can remember to eat a plant, probably. You will definitely be too fucked up to cast any more spells, so the silence and invisibility will end, but the Dispel Magic should keep up as long as you're still affected by Smuggler's Root. You’re on your own from there. Good luck, and make sure you call Scam Likely for all your scamming needs!’

*

            The Library knew it was Scam’s fault. It was usually Scam’s fault. If a book went missing, or someone got out of their late fees unscathed, or if there was a particular village that managed to put together an extremely effective book return system, Scam was typically behind it. It happened whenever Scam happened to get bored with scamming mortals, which was way more frequently than the Library would like. Scam probably thought helping the Library’s pet escape was a great joke, and didn’t really care whether Darryl fully escaped or got devoured on the way, as long as he gave the Library a run-around. God knew what Scam was probably doing to the castle while the Library was out of it, there was no way he wasn’t up to something. He seriously needed to get Scam some kind of distraction. He wasn’t immune to a good book, but he went through them too fast. Maybe if Scam had a pet of his own… now that was a thought, but it was a thought that would have to wait. The Library still didn’t know how Darryl blocked his magic. It seemed strange that Scam would be so involved as to cast Dispel Magic on Darryl directly, but he couldn’t think of another way he would have managed it. Darryl was a barbarian, no magic to speak of there. There were ways around that though, so maybe Scam gave him a particularly powerful amulet or something. That would be annoying.

            As the Library traveled down the stone corridors of the labyrinth, leaning forward onto all his limbs like a terrible centipede, he contemplated on how much he really hoped that Darryl was actually in the labyrinth, and that Scam hadn’t gone so far as to teleport Darryl somewhere. That would be completely unfair if he did. How was the Library supposed to get him back if he was miles away? It could take ages, such a pain. Scam was going to pay for this. Darryl would too, of course. But Scam would pay worse because, at the very least, the Library could understand why Darryl might not be especially keen on being eaten every day for the rest of his natural life. Scam, on the other hand, was just being a butt head. Being a butt head may be in his cousin’s nature, but that didn’t mean the Library couldn’t be pissed about it.

            “DARRYL! Sweetie, if you don’t come back here right now, I’m going to chop the rest of your limbs off with a rusty hatchet!” The Library sang lightly as he carried on, all the way to the northern exit of the maze. He frowned down at the metal door and braced to push it open. It was especially heavy. He was pretty sure even a beefy boy such as Darryl would have trouble getting it open, and therefore likely wouldn’t have pushed it back into place. Maybe he didn’t come out this way. As the Library turned back, for the briefest instant, he felt something brush by his long, long, legs. He froze, his eyes turning independently in all directions as his skin bristled and tried to latch onto whatever had touched it. The Library could see nothing. He could hear nothing. And now that the moment had passed, he could feel nothing. And yet, he was still quite certain he had felt something.

            “Oh, I see. Using up a whole wealth of spell slots on this jape, aren’t you dear cousin?” The Library glared off into the night. “I cast Dispel Magic!”

            There was a brief ripple of energy over the grass in front of him, which quickly bloomed out and away in a diameter far greater than he would imagine his pet would be capable of running in the time since he had brushed by his master. But even though the Library was extremely thorough in his spell casting, absolutely no barbarian indicated itself to him. The Library cocked his head to one side, starting to second guess himself. He had been sure he had felt something, certainly Darryl, disguised by magic. But the Library knew he was at least powerful enough to dispel Scam’s illusions when he knew what they were, so what the hell had Scam done to get this kind of power? Maybe the Library was wrong. Darryl could still be in the maze, or maybe had been teleported away. That said, his intuition was telling him that Darryl was out there, somewhere, in this grassy field. Most likely bee-lining straight toward the forest in the distance, and then the village to the north beyond it. Not being one to refuse his own intuition, the Library stretched his limbs and took off for that village. He would either run into his pet on the way, or he would meet him there. He did hope Darryl wouldn’t run into any trouble on route, or there would be dire consequences for everyone involved.

*

            Darryl’s feet were starting to hurt. He wasn’t sure why, at first, because he really couldn’t recall what he had been doing for the last while. He was surrounded by trees, and didn’t know where he was, or how he got there. He did have a quiet, unexplained certainty inside of him that he was heading north, but that was all he had to go on at the moment. Just as a splitting pain began to hammer at the side of his head and he started to recall something about having a snack in his pocket, a loud voice shouted only a few feet behind him.

             “WOOHOO! Check it out, there’s like, a whole ass SNACK that just appeared out of nowhere!”

            “Uh, Lance, food doesn’t just, like, appear. You mean you just saw it, duh.”

            “Um, no Chad, pretty sure it just appeared, like, right there, see? Look how big it is! We’re gonna be eating good tonight!”

            Darryl did not like the sound of any of that, and it didn’t help that his head spun as he turned around to see whatever was behind him. The sky was clear, and the moon was near-full, so he didn’t have much trouble making out his pursuers. Behind him turned out to be, for lack of a better word, two Giants. Not the kind of giants one might have seen Disney dance around with once upon a time. They weren’t towering above the trees or anything. But they were definitely very tall, reaching for the ten foot mark, both extremely broad shouldered and muscular. They were also both extremely naked, save for an animal skin loincloth on each. They were terrible to behold, although as Darryl craned his neck to look all the way up to their faces, he was surprised to find some of the most chisel-jawed, golden-curled, angel-like visages he had ever seen.

            “You guys would make a killing as professional wrestlers,” Darryl said as he looked around for his pillowcase, which was nowhere to be seen. Probably dropped it while he was high. Figures.

            “Aw, Lance, it’s complimenting us! That’s cute, I bet it tastes really sweet!”

            “I don’t know Chad, it smells kind of funky…”

            “Well we’re going to wash it first, obvi.”

            “Oh, yeah, obvi, lol. Wait, no, I know that smell…”

            “Wha- hey!” Darryl tried to dodge the hands that reached for him, but his hangover left him at a disadvantage. Within seconds he was dangling between the two giants from their big, meaty hands. One had hold of his left arm, the other had his right leg, and Darryl was within a hair’s breadth of tossing his cookies all over the forest floor. His blood turned icy in his veins as the Giants used their free hands to start patting down his clothes, pulling him back and forth as they pressed their noses against him, looking for whatever they thought they could smell.

            “Ooh, here it is!” Chad said excitedly, shoving a finger against Darryl’s pocket and running too firmly against the equipment underneath it. Darryl squirmed, face flushing as the Giant managed to push and prod enough to squeeze something out of his pocket.

            “Smuggler’s Root!” Lance gasped as Chad pinched the tiny half-root in his fingers and held it up for both giants to marvel at. “Holy shit, I haven’t seen any of that since we ate those wacked out wizards?”

            “Oh man, when was that? Last year? Too long, darling, it’s been way too long.” Chad shook his head. “Not much, but might be good for a spell… oh my god Lance, did you hear that? Good for a SPELL?! I am so funny.”

            “You are so funny, Chad.” Lance let go of Darryl’s arm, leaving him to dangle by his leg. The blood rushing to his head seemed to jog his memory enough to know that if he was this coherent, that meant the root must have worn off. Maybe the Library could track him again? Should he call for help? The Library was probably going to punish him for this, but he also was less likely to kill him than these two Giants were. Darryl twisted around and tried to punch at the Giant’s belly. He only made contact once, and the Giant only giggled a little. He held Darryl further away from his torso as the two started discussing what kind of magic they should try casting with the Smuggler’s Root this time. It was disconcerting how many spells they were considering that involved cooking Darryl’s flesh faster.

            “Uh, L-Library?” Darryl hissed into cupped hands, searching his palm for a flicker of eyelashes. Nothing. “C-come on, you’ve gotta be hearing this. Please, I’m sorry for running. I’m sorry, don’t let me die here. Oh my god, please don’t let me die here. Grant’s still in trouble, I can’t die here. Please tell me you can come get me out of here, please.”

            “Uh, what’s it doing now?” Chad asked, pointing at Darryl.

            “Praying, I guess? We should probably knock it out.” Lance suggested.

            “Oh, but it’s more fun to cook them when they’re still squirming around, though!”

            “Oh true, maybe we can just rip its arms off of something?”

            Darryl gagged. “No, no, please don’t do that!”

            “Good idea, Lance!” Without another word, Chad flipped him around, grabbed Darryl by each of his arms, and yanked. Darryl’s arms were not ripped off in this one action, but the fiery pain of having both shoulders dislocated at once left him screaming loud enough for flocks of birds to storm out of the trees around him.

            “What the fuck, Chad? That’s like, the worst arm-ripping I’ve ever seen you do.”

            “Sorry, my hand slipped, okay? I’ll get them this time.” Chad adjusted his hands as Darryl hung helplessly between them, wondering if this would put him into enough shock to kill him instantly.

            “O neew oo din!”

            Chad paused. “What was that, Lance?”

            “Uh, that wasn’t me,” Lance began to look around at the bushes before turning his attention back at Darryl. “Maybe it was the food?”

            “I was looking right at it, Lance, I think I’d know if it was the food, duh.”

            “Gi awaa frum mi-p!”

            Lance frowned. “Pretty sure that came from the food, Chad.”

            “I’m looking RIGHT AT IT, Lance! The mouth didn’t fucking move.”

            “Uh, yeah, that wasn’t me,” Darryl managed to grind out, unable to think around the pain enough to care where the muffled voice was coming from. He could only hope it was someone who could save him. “IF SOMEONE’S THERE, HELP!”

            “M’tryn, cint git oo shoof.”

            “Wait,” Lance leaned in, squinting his eyes as he looked down at Darryl’s legs. “Huh, I think it might be coming from its shoe?”

            “Oh my god, don’t be stupid, okay? Who ever heard of a talking shoe?” Chad scoffed. It was then that Darryl realized he couldn’t feel his foot anymore. He had tremendously mixed feelings about that, but frantically started kicking at his talking shoe with his other foot, trying to get it off.

            “Hey, quit that!” Lance scolded, grabbing Darryl’s kicking foot and wrenching it aside. “I want to know what’s in there!”

            “Yeah, we gotta strip it before we cook it, anyway.” Chad shrugged. The muffled voice stayed very quiet as the Giant unlaced Darryl’s shoe with surprising delicacy. He slid off the shoe and the sock beneath, and then peered curiously at an entirely normal, if sweaty, foot.

            “Huh, guess it was the shoe after- AAAAAAIIIIII!” Lance screamed as Darryl’s foot ripped in half lengthwise from toes to heel, revealing a gaping mouth ringed with sharp fangs and sporting a long, thin tongue that immediately drove itself deep into the Giant’s eye socket.

            “Lance!” Chad shrieked, dropping Darryl like a hot potato. He fell four feet and hit the ground hard enough that he thought he might've thrown his back out. He groaned, and then let out a scream of his own when his entire body was dragged along the grass. At first he thought perhaps the Giants had grabbed him again, but no, the two giants were still across the clearing from him. They were gazing down at him in horror, as though they were looking at an unexpected and highly poisonous snake. No, what was dragging Darryl across the ground was the vile tongue extending several feet away from his gaping monster foot, ironically slithering very much like a snake, indeed. Darryl grunted as his numb hand flung itself up into the air. A very angry eyeball glistened from Darryl’s palm as his limp and protesting body was dragged forcibly toward his former assailants, one of which was clutching at his empty and bleeding eye socket. Both were shaking in terror. “Ewwww, what the fuck? What the fuck is that? Oh my god,” Chad was backing up, fanning himself, and screamed again when his back hit a tree branch.

            “I want to go home, let’s just go home Chad. My eye hurts. That thing is way too creepy to eat. Let’s just gooooo,” Lance moaned.            

            Chad straightened up, his eyes darting between Darryl and Lance. “I'm with you, only maybe we should kill it first?”

            “I’m not eating THAT!”

            “No, god no, I just don’t like that it’s alive? I just don’t like it. We should kill it.”

            “God, fuck, FINE! Just hurry up!”

            “L-let them go!” Darryl tried as the tongue kept up its advance, his foot’s teeth glinting in the moonlight. “Just let them go! You scared them off! You don’t need to do whatever you’re doing!”

            “Nobody takessss what’s mine!” The voice that came from Darryl’s foot was definitely the Library’s, but it still sounded oddly snake-like. “And don’t ttttthhink you’re getting off eassssy either!”

            “You think this is easy?” Darryl asked incredulously, letting out a groan as his butt scraped over a rock. “Look, I’m sorry! Point made, I get it! I GET IT!” Chad shook out his arms and chanted some lyrics to his favorite bard song to pump himself up before changing toward Darryl, raising a huge fist to lay in a killing blow to his foot-mouth. Darryl’s foot proceeded to open up wide like a bear trap, and clamped down around the Giant’s toes. It was hard to say if Darryl or the Giant was screaming louder as the tongue wrapped around the thick ankle and began dragging Chad into what looked like a cavity in Darryl’s leg. The bulge that grew in Darryl's ankle where the Giant was disappearing quickly deflated before reaching Darryl's calve, though, so it seemed that the Library’s pseudo-mouth led somewhere else entirely. Chad scrambled at the dirt, and Lance hurried over to pull him into the air, away from Darryl. Rather than being shaken loose, however, Darryl was merely dragged up into the air with him, and his foot continued to consume Chad up to his knee. By then, the tongue had grown much thicker and wider, and the skin of Darryl’s foot stretched considerably as it moved around Chad’s hip.

            “LANCE! OH MY GOD, LANCE ITS EATING ME! THE FOOD’S EATING ME, LANCE!”

            “Oh my god, oh my god!” Lance tried to grab Darryl just as the foot widened enough to begin folding Chad in half, his free leg getting forced up to his stomach as the foot continued to swallow him down. This was enough to send them all crashing back to the ground, and Darryl couldn’t believe he was still conscious after all this. Darryl’s hand flung itself up into the air as Lance got close, and the eye lit up in a flash bright enough that Lance screamed and covered his remaining eye, wailing that he couldn’t see at all anymore. Chad did not have much sympathy for Lance’s situation, however, as he had already been devoured up to the base of his golden curls, his hands still trying to find purchase on the ground.

            “FUCK! Fuck, Lance! If you get out of this, keep your hands off my fucking Tropical Peach Body-wash! I know you keep taking it, and you better BURN ALL OF IT! You don’t deserve to smell like peaches after this, you piece of shit! Can’t believe you’re letting me die like thi-“ Chad’s voice cut off as Darryl’s foot enveloped his mouth, soon followed by the rest of his head. With Chad’s voice cut off, Darryl too tired to scream anymore, and Lance having blindly wandered far enough away that his sobbing wasn’t so pronounced, the forest seemed much quieter. Darryl counted his own heavy breaths, trying to distract himself from the pain wracking his entire body by watching the end of the giant’s twitching hands disappear inside of his foot. This symphony ended with Darryl’s foot making some obscene smacking noises and licking its teeth before closing up and falling quiet as well. Darryl stared up at the sky, trying and failing to find a familiar constellation as he waited to be reprimanded. He turned his head slowly to look at his hand, which he still couldn’t feel, and saw an eyeball looking wearily at him. The disapproval was silent, but painfully clear.

            “Um,” Darryl cleared his throat, but his voice still came out raspy. “Thanks?” The eye continued to look at him. “Are… are you coming to get me?” There was a long pause, then finally, a single blink. Then the eye vanished. Darryl let his head thunk back onto the ground.

            “That’s good.” Darryl mumbled, and finally passed out.

*

            Only about thirty yards from Darryl, the Library looked down at his extremely swollen belly with a frown. It was squirming slightly on the ground, and was proving extremely uncomfortable and difficult to drag around with him. He had forgotten how hard it was to make Giant bodies disobey the laws of physics. He sincerely hoped that Darryl wouldn’t get into more trouble while he finished digesting this, because it was going to take a while.

Chapter 9: Calling

Summary:

Darryl wakes up in the woods. The Library hasn't found him yet. Time to make a phone call, but his arms are dislocated. This isn't a great start to the day.

9 Calling

             Darryl came back to consciousness with the sun burning through his eyelids and his whole body flaring with more aches and pains than he had ever felt in his middle-aged life. Even the act of moving an arm to shield his eyes seemed impossible, both lying like lead weights at his sides. He kept his eyes closed for a long while, trying to sort out what had happened to him around the sharp throbbing that seemed to echo in the depths of his cerebrum. Why wouldn’t his arms move? His arms were dislocated. That was the first thing Darryl remembered before he was assaulted by a rush of memory from the night before. He couldn’t recall anything after casting Know Direction in the Labyrinth until he was grabbed by those giants. He definitely remembered his arms dislocating when the one Giant tried to rip them off, and he definitely remembered getting thrown around more than a pornographic magazine at a thirteen year old boy’s birthday party. No wonder he felt like his entire body was a bruise. He also, unfortunately, had a clear recollection of his foot ripping itself open and swallowing one of the Giants whole. The other one had wandered blindly into the forest, and apparently hadn’t found its way back, or else Darryl would probably be dead by now. It seemed that the Library had, gruesomely, saved his ass yet again. Was the Library around now? From the sun in his eyes and the bird song in his ears, Darryl assumed he was still in the forest. He thought that the Library would’ve moved him somewhere else as soon as he found him.

            “Hello?” Darryl managed to rasp, eyes still shut to the world. He waited a while, but there was no response. “Library?” He waited a bit longer, but only silence answered him. Maybe the Library met up with the other Giant? Darryl wasn’t sure how long he had been passed out, but what if the Library was hurt somewhere and unable to get to him? On the surface that would be ideal, but with both his arms dislocated, he was a sitting duck if anything else came along to kill him. Oddly, despite hours having passed at least, Darryl still felt pretty sure he knew where north was. Well, that was a start. If he could find north, he could find the village. Surely he must be close to it? Darryl tried to sit up without using his arms. After some pained grunting and struggling, he realized his abdominal muscles were not up to the task. He was stuck on his back like a turtle. There was nothing else for it, then. Darryl sucked in as much breath as possible and screamed. “HEY! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME? I NEED SOME HELP!” The yell echoed, and his throat felt raw. He coughed several times even as he strained to listen for some kind of response. Aside from a brief quiet in the birdsong and a rise in volume from the cicadas in the trees, there was nothing. Darryl groaned and turned his head around as much as he could to see his surroundings in the daylight. The sky looked a little hazy and grey, almost smoky. That was a bit weird, but beyond that, there was mostly just trees, trees, bushes, grass, dirt, a glint of silver… what was that? Darryl squinted at the small metallic thing lying in the grass a few feet above where his head was. It took a minute, but he finally realized that it was his folded Nokia phone. In the altercation with the Giants it must’ve slipped out of his pocket, most likely during one of the times he was swung upside down.

            “Oh, shit. Oh wait, I can use that!” Darryl’s eyes lit up in excitement. This was a good thing! If his phone was still in his pocket, he wouldn’t be able to get it out without using his hands. But if he could just scoot himself closer to it, he might be able to get it open with his teeth, and call the other dads for help! Not that they knew where he was, but it was the only thing he could think to do. Maybe Henry knew some weird hippie way of popping your shoulders back into their sockets without using your other arm while you’re stuck on your back. Or maybe they couldn’t help at all, but at least he could let them know he wasn’t dead yet. So Darryl tried to move. As it turned out, moving was terrible. He had to shuffle his legs, which ached horribly. Rubbing his back along the ground and wiggling his shoulders resulted in more stabbing pains in them, as well. But Darryl was determined. He couldn’t just sit out here doing nothing, and if the Library wasn’t answering him, he had to at least try another approach. After struggling for a while, Darryl at last bumped his head against the hard plastic of the phone and with a little more creative maneuvering, he managed to get his face in front of it.

             Opening the phone presented its own challenge. For the first time, Darryl considered a flip phone to be a flawed design as he tried to shove his tongue into the crevice to pry it open, and only managed to push the phone further away from him three times in a row. He managed to push it down with his chin enough to brace it against his shoulder, but his chin could only open it a bit that way, it snapped closed again when he let go. Finally Darryl growled, grabbed the whole phone in his teeth, and began his dogged struggle again. This time he aimed his wriggling body at one of the trees on the edge of the clearing. By the time he reached it, he was getting lightheaded from exhaustion, and his vision was spotty. Also his throat was horribly dry. He wasn’t even sure how much he would be able to speak if he got his phone working. But he had something to brace against now. He spat the phone out and, using the tree to push against, Darryl managed to get the phone open with his tongue. He could have cried out of sheer joy when the tiny screen lit up for him. Next step was getting the phone book application open, which involved more coordination than Darryl anticipated. He couldn’t look and use his tongue at the same time, which meant he was forced to feel around a lot and hit many wrong buttons before he finally got it open and scrolled down to Henry’s number, only to sharply remember that Henry’s phone was dead and scrolled up again. He debated between Ron and Glenn’s numbers for a second before deciding that Ron was more likely to actually answer. It was a wonder he didn’t accidentally call someone else by the time he reached R. Stampler on his list and hit dial, thanking the Nokia god for his massive battery life. The phone rang once, twice, three times, four times… Darryl worried his lip as the phone kept ringing and he wondered if maybe Ron had managed to lose it. On the eighth ring, though, Ron’s voice finally came through the tinny speaker. “Ah, hello, this is Mr. Ron Stampler, businessman, um, at your service. Are you aware that you have the same phone number as my dead friend Darryl?”

            “Ron!” Darryl’s voice cracked hard and he coughed a few times before trying to desperately clear his throat. “Ron, it’s me, it’s Darryl! I’m not dead!”

            “Oh! That’s good, uh, can I just put you on hold for a second?”

            “What? No, Ron, don’t do that.”

            “It’s just a second, um, don’t go anywhere, ha ha.” There was the distinctive sound of Ron clumsily covering the bottom of his phone with his hand, and Ron’s voice was still discernible, if muffled. “Um, so, you guys know how I was dancing to that song just now, and you asked if my phone was ringing, and I said no? Well my phone actually WAS ringing as it turns out, and um, so I answered the phone? Like how normal people do? Normal BUSINESS people, am I right? So anyways, uh, it’s Darryl on the phone and he says he’s not dead? What do I do?”

            “Guys, it’s me, I’m not dead! The Libra-ACK!” Darryl’s voice crapped out on the long sentence and he was left coughing again. He missed the first bit of what he thought was Henry freaking out over something in the background, but he caught Glenn, who was a bit louder.

            “Fuck Henry, don’t even bother. Gimmie the phone Ron, give me the-“

           “Now hang on a minute, Glenn. Darryl called ME on the phone, so whatever afterlife message he is giving is clearly for ME, and you should respect that. I- oh you’re just taking it. Okay.” Ron’s voice faded off and the audio cleared up on Glenn’s accusatory tone.

            “Okay, whoever you are. I want you to know that we’ve been tricked once before over someone pretending to be one of us dads, and we’re not falling for it again! So if you’re really Darryl, you better prove it!”

            “Uh, fair enough,” Darryl swallowed and thought for a minute. “Okay, uh, when I use my ancestral rage, I summon all my favorite dads, including my dad Frank, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, and Coach Taylor.”

            “Phht, why should that count as proof? You’ve fought plenty of folks with that, I’m sure any of them know about your ancestral rage dads!”

            “Yeah, but would they know their names, Glenn?” Darryl argued, trying to keep his voice low so it wouldn’t break on him. “This is the fucking fantasy realm, they don’t know who fucking Abraham Lincoln or Coach Taylor are!”

            “They would if they read your mind, or read OUR minds even! This world is weird, man!”

            “Okay, then what the fuck am I supposed to do on the phone, Glenn? I can’t prove shit if you think I can read your mind!”

           “Fair enough. Oh I know, you can tell me what Henry’s tongue tastes like.”

           “ALRIGHT THAT’S ENOUGH!” Darryl couldn’t be happier to hear Henry’s vibrant protest, and the ensuing struggle on the other end as his favorite druid wrested control of the phone. “Darryl?! What- how did you- how are you alive? You were eaten! We all saw you!”

           “Urgh, Henry, it sucked so bad.” Darryl groaned, “The Library’s got some kind of, I don’t know, there’s like a weird squishy room in his stomach? He just put me in there and carried me off to his castle to uh, to be his slave I guess.” Darryl grimaced at Henry’s horrified gasp. “I tried to get away last night, and ran into some giants. They’re both… gone… but my arms are busted. I had to call you with my tongue, and I don’t know where I am. You gotta help me.”

          “Help you? What do you- How do you- How do we help you, if we don’t even know where you are?!”

           “You could track me? Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.” Darryl’s breath hitched. “I don’t know where the Library is, even. He said he was coming to get me, but that was hours ago, and I can’t even get up. I think I might-“ His breath hitched again, “I-I think I might die, Henry, it hurts so much.”

          “Aw crap, oh… oh shit. Darryl, okay, fuck, alright. Okay, we can… maybe we can deal with this. You said your arms are busted. Do you mean broken? Are both your arms broken, Darryl?”

          “N-no, dislocated.”

         “Oh! Okay, so that’s not- maybe we can work with that. What about everything else? Are you bleeding? Any other injuries?”

          “Um, I thought I threw my back out, but now I think it’s just bruised. Everything hurts, but I think it’s just strains, cuts, and bruises. The arms are the worst.”

          Henry’s breathing started to even out, and that alone helped Darryl’s blood pressure. “Okay. Okay. What’s around you, right now?” Darryl shortly described the clearing, the tree beside him. “Use the tree as support, try to see if you can sit up against it.”

          Darryl grunted his affirmation and started wriggling again, forcing himself up against the bark of the tree. It still hurt, he was still tired, but now he was also determined. Henry’s voice was calming enough to help him think straight, and he wondered briefly why he didn’t think of using a tree to help him up before as he finally got himself sitting, the phone on the ground beside him. “I did it. Henry, I’m sitting up!”

          “That’s great, Darryl! I’m so proud of you!” Darryl glowed at the praise. “Now, do you think you can stand up? Take a minute if you need it, you’re doing so well.”

          “I think I just need a minute, yeah. Uh, so what’s going on with you? What have you guys been up to? Any sign of the kids?”

         “Uh, well it hasn’t been great…”

*

            The Library’s head hurt. He opened his eyes blearily and stared up at the smoke-smeared sky. His belly felt pretty full, but the rest of him didn’t feel very well at all. It took him some minutes to realize he felt hung over, not to mention stretched absurdly thin. Why did he feel hung over? He was pretty sure he hadn’t drank anything. He digested that Giant, felt a heady surge of raw magic and then, nothing. Letting out a groan loud enough to echo around the charred crater in which he found himself, the Library began trying to sort out his tangled limbs. The feeling of being stretched thin was easily accounted for. His tongue was lying all over the place, and reeling it in proved to be a chore. It snagged on debris more than once, and proved to be very heavy and dry as he dragged it along the ground and shoved it haphazardly back into his mouth. It was a bit easier once his limbs were accounted for and he was able to push himself into standing, albeit with a tilt in his steps. That way he could at least begin following the path of his wayward tongue, and gently untangled it from severed body parts, broken glass, burnt wood… what exactly had happened when he blacked out? He hadn’t caused this much damage since Mark’s coming of age ritual, and he was pretty sure he had the help from a number of other eldritch beings when painting that town red.

            He gradually felt better as more tongue was squashed back into his insides, his skin gradually filling out and away from his skeleton again. The hangover stayed unfortunately present, though. Was the Giant drunk when he ate him? That didn’t make sense, the Library couldn’t get drunk on normal wine or ale. He certainly had experimented with them enough to know that. The Giant must have had something on him. Didn’t he overhear them talking about something when they had Darryl? Some kind of root? He was going to have to talk to his pet about whatever it was Scam had given him, but his head hurt too much to try possessing any remote body parts at the moment. He checked in with them just long enough to ensure that Darryl was still alive and approximately where he left him, and then let the awareness go.

            The Library followed his tongue to the edge of the pit and a little beyond where the end was caught inside a rusty garden faucet. Well, that explained why he’d left it behind anyway. He gave it a sharp yank and the rest snapped up back into his face like a retractable tape measure. Sighing in relief, the Library slowly turned in a circle, a pair of hands on his hips, letting out a low whistle at the sight. The entire village was leveled. Husks of buildings burnt to embers, bodies swarming with flies, a few survivors weeping and huddled among the wreckage. A small child pointed at him and screamed in terror. The Library held up his hands and laughed awkwardly. “Oops! My bad! That was a hell of a night, huh? I really hope I didn’t destroy anything important!” The Library picked his way awkwardly over some corpses toward the general area where he believed the shops used to be. He squinted down at one half-emaciated face and let out a short whimper. “Oh no, didn’t I lend you my- oh!” The Library brightened when he saw that the corpse was hunched over something to shield it from whatever horror befell the poor sod. Probably the Library. Pushing the arms aside, the Library yanked out a sooty, yet still intact copy of 1001 Ancient Mining Tips and Tricks. “Oh thank goodness!” The Library grinned, shoving the book into his mouth and swallowing hard. His headache was subsiding now, he was lucky that his constitution was so high. He had best find Darryl and head back home before the remaining villagers managed to put an angry mob together.

*

            “Okay, so let me get this straight. I’m gone less than a week. You lost the van, got it back, but the back seat is gone. Erin tried to kill you twice for leaving her to die when you drove off, but is now sleeping in the back of the van. You accidentally kidnapped Paedan and his dad the bullywog almost killed you because you didn’t point him out fast enough. You know where Ravenloft is, but literally everyone you’ve talked to about it has laughed in your face or else just told you that you would need a literal army to take it down. And… where are you again?” Darryl tried to suppress his coughing after the long speech.

            “Uh, where did Odyssey-san say we were, Glenn?” Henry asked, having put Darryl on speaker-phone a while ago when the other dads couldn’t stop chiming in on the tale.

            “Someplace called Ballsdeep. There’s this competition thing here, it’s pretty much just football with magic. We figure if we can win the big cash prize here, we can just kind of, uh, hire some mercenaries or something. Between us dads, Erin and Paeden, we almost have a full team, but we drafted this homeless guy so we could compete. He’s kind of a screwball but heh, he’s pretty cool. Had some weed on him, which was dope. His name’s Dennis, you’d like him probably. Ron seems to hate his guts, though.”

            “I cannot believe you guys are having a fantasy football adventure without me.”

            “Them’s the breaks kid,” Glenn snorted and then had a minor coughing fit. He was probably smoking something again. “Point is, we’re still gonna get the kids back.”

            “Yeah, and we promise not to forget about your son when we do, whatever his name happens to be.”

            “It’s Grant, Ron.”

            “How are you feeling, Darryl? What’s the vibe check, so to speak? Can you stand up yet?” Trust Henry to get them back on task.

            “Huh? Oh, yeah, I think so.” Darryl gave a mighty grunt and shimmied his way carefully up against the tree again. He could feel himself gain a couple of splinters, but at last he was on his shaky feet again. Though without the tree, he may have fallen right back down. “I-I’m up. I’m up. Fuck, I’m gonna have to try to shove my shoulders back in with the tree, huh?”

            “Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t recommend it. I always tell my boys that you should seek medical attention for dislocated joints. But since you’re in the middle of the woods with no sign of assistance, you’ve got to make do. It can’t hurt to try, probably!”

            “You’d be surprised,” Darryl muttered as he turned, wincing when he pressed his arm between the trunk and his torso, trying to feel out the right position. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and back from the strain of the last half hour. Darryl pressed and shifted and pressed again, hoping that he might finally get lucky and lock the damn thing back into place. It didn’t take too long to admit defeat, though. He wasn’t even close. “Henry it’s not working.”

            “Aw beans. I figured it wouldn’t but you know, I don’t know, I just thought maybe it could work. Can you describe the plants around you? Maybe we could find something to help with the pain… oh but you can’t grab anything. Well maybe-“

            “What the hell Henry, this is stupid. Darryl, you’re on your feet, right dude? So just like, walk your barbarian butt out of there and find that village you were heading for.”

            “It’s like I always say, Darryl. You uh, you can’t move forward if you aren’t walking! Unless you're a frog, because then you'd be hopping.”

            “Um, thanks Ron.” Darryl frowned down at his phone lying on the ground and bit his lip. “Um, I don’t know if I can get my phone back if I leave. Like, I can’t pick it up, and-“

            “Darryl.” Everyone went quiet immediately. The strange hissing voice came from Darryl’s foot, and as consequence, was very audible to everyone on the other end of the phone.

            “What the fuck was that?” Glenn asked as Darryl looked down in horror, balancing all his weight on his left foot as his right foot deadened and ripped open into a mouth again. Darryl breathed harder through his nose as his left arm deadened as well, twisting up in front of him, the eyeball in his palm open and glaring.

            “What the hell- where are you?!” Darryl was embarrassed his voice was coming out as a whine, but he pushed through regardless. “You said you were coming for me!”

            “Something came up. Do you have any idea why eating that Giant would have left me power drunk?”

            “Uhh…”

            “I think I ate most of the village Darryl, so this is rather important. I don’t normally lose control like that.”

            “Is that the Library? Did he just say he ATE a village?!” Henry gasped into the phone. Darryl saw the eye on his hand roll dramatically, and the narrow tongue launched out of his foot to grab his phone and snap it shut.

            “Hey! It’s rude to just hang up a phone like that!”

            “I don’t care, Darryl. What. Did. I. Eat?”

            “Smuggler’s Root!” Darryl snapped, sick of the subterfuge. He knew he was in a bad spot, he might as well be honest at this point since he was constantly in danger the longer he stayed injured in these woods. “That turnip thing we got in town? Scam said it was actually this special magic root that-“

            “SMUGGLER’S ROOT?! I can't believe it! It's so rare, I’d never even seen any before! I’d heard of it of course, though some sources said it wasn’t even a real thing… Oh this is so LIKE Scam! He saw I accidentally bought drugs and thought this was SO funny. I’m going to kill him. This is the last straw. Bad enough he gets YOU to eat it, but ME!”

            “Uh, well in Scam’s defense, he probably didn’t predict that you’d swallow a Giant that happened to be holding it.”

            “Oh really? Well he sure as hell could have predicted I’d eat YOU while you were holding it!”

            “Oh. Oh. You know what? Yeah, let’s kill Scam. I’ll help.”

            “Hmm, yes. Later, though. I’m heading your way now, but you’d be best to start heading in my direction too. If these angry villagers recognize you as being associated with me, they may be less than hospitable toward you. And you probably don’t want to see your foot eat any more people, I assume.”

            “Yeah, yeah that wouldn’t be great. Um, okay. But see, I can’t actually pick up my phone, and I don’t want to lose it, so…”

            “Oh, that? Easy enough.”  The Library’s tongue wrapped around the phone and drew it inside Darryl’s foot, swallowing audibly. “Safely in my tummy. Believe me, if I could do that to you, I would. But I can’t, so you’re going to have to start walking.”

            “My arms are dislocated, too.”

           “Oh, and I suppose to need to fix that too, hmm?”

            “I mean, uh, it would be nice.”

            There was a long pause as the Library seemed to think that over. “Urgh, fine, okay. Hold still.” The Library’s arm grabbed Darryl’s right bicep and felt along it up to the shoulder to assess the damage. Darryl could see how badly bruised it was, and braced for the pain as he was grabbed firmly and his arm was forced back into its socket. It was brutal, but quick, and Darryl leaned hard on the tree again, gasping for breath as he rolled his arm around, trying to ensure it worked properly as the Library’s hand felt up along his other shoulder for a second before his tongue shot up, grabbed that bicep, and forced the other arm back in too. Darryl screamed at the pain this time, and fell back down to the ground, tears streaming from his eyes. “That hurts, huh?”

            “YOU THINK?!”

           “Maybe you’ll remember this next time Scam tries to tell you to do something. He isn’t exactly trustworthy, you know.”

            “Yeah, I’m starting to get that.”

            “Anyway, I’m gonna quit talking so you can use your feet, but follow my eye like before. I- oh wait never mind. I was closer than I thought.”

            There was a rustling noise, and Darryl’s head snapped to look at the bushes ahead of him. The Library was unsettling to watch a lot of the time, but this was the most monstrous Darryl had ever seen him. His gaunt face was smeared with blood and ashes, his mouth sagging slightly as though it had been stretched out of shape for too long. He was drawn out to a bizarre length, his head brushing the tree tops, his legs bowed, and several of his arm-like limbs spread out on the ground around him like an insect while others fanned around him like the world’s worst set of wings. One of the limbs waved at Darryl as the sagging face twisted into a cheerful smile. Darryl’s pained shoulders sagged in unexpected relief. “You know, after all this, I’m actually glad to see you. You, uh, you look… good?”

            “Well, obviously,” the Library sniffed, scuttling close to Darryl and leering down at him with wide and reddened eyes. “What have we learned from this?” At that moment, an arrow launched itself past the Library’s head and buried itself in a tree. Darryl pointed at it in silent question, but the Library didn’t seemed bothered, even as shouts were starting to grow louder in the forest behind him.

            “Uh, running away is bad?”

            “And?”

            “Don’t trust Scam Likely?”

            “And?”

            “Uh…” Another arrow flew from somewhere, this time burying into the ground at Darryl’s feet. “Don’t do magic drugs?”

            The Library snorted and his limbs unfolded themselves down and around Darryl like an unsettling cocoon, plunging him into a heated darkness where only he and the Library’s most horrible face existed. Darryl made a distressed sound in the back of his throat as the Library’s mouth pressed against his forehead, so he could feel the words form as he spoke them. “You learned that no matter where you go, even if it takes a while, I’ll always find you and drag you back where you belong.”

           “Oh.” Darryl’s heart sped up a notch. “Uh, back to the castle?”

           “Back to my stomach.” The Library's assertion actually startled a laugh out of Darryl as the whistling noise of a whole curtain of arrows falling drowned him out. The Library, satisfied, stretched his mouth wide around Darryl’s head, and swallowed him whole in a single motion. The Library straightened up again, the many arrows embedded in his skin dissolving as if they had landed in acid, dripping as liquid pulp to the ground while the monster faced the terrified villagers with a beastly grin. “Now, I know I accidentally destroyed your village and killed and ate a lot of your loved ones, and you’re very angry about that. But if you would simply allow me to return to my castle, I have plenty of money to pay for the damages.”

           “Well, what if we killed you, and RAIDED your keep for your treasures?!” One foolhardy tavern wench cried, a rapier in her hand.

           “Okay, seriously, did you not just see me dissolve all those arrows?” The Library folded some arms and snorted at the audacity. “You aren’t going to kill me easily without VERY specific knowledge as to how. I agree that I caused some undue suffering, so I’ll pay the fees for rebuilding and some very nice funerals. In fact, I could make you all very rich. Really, the choice is simple. We can live together in peace, richly, or I could kill more of you.”

           “How richly?!” The wench demanded.

           The Library did a quick headcount. “At least a thousand gold apiece, I think.”

           “You know, I didn’t really care for my brother much, anyway.” The wench sheathed her rapier as the villagers made a number of agreeable sounds as well. The Library could have rolled his eyes. This was why he never bothered with having money before, it always made it too easy to solve problems. Where was the narrative value in absurd wealth, anyway?

*

           Deep in the Library’s belly, Darryl snuggled into the familiar slimy walls, ready for a nap. It might be gross in there, but he couldn’t deny he felt pretty safe compared to how things were a while ago. As his eyelids drooped, however, Darryl suddenly heard a sound other than the occasional gurgling that the Library’s innards made. It was a ringtone. His ringtone. His phone! It was probably Henry calling him back. Darryl squirmed and kicked around in the folds of the stomach, and crowed in victory as his fingers closed stiffly around his quarry. He flipped it open and answered without even checking the caller ID.

           “Henry! I’m sorry, the Library cut us off. I’m okay for now, I-“

           “Darryl? Is that you? The reception sounds weird, did you say you’re at the library?”

           “Carol?” Darryl’s voice sounded impossibly small in his ears.

           “Darryl, look, I know I said we’d talk later, and it’s been like, what, ten minutes? Less? Whatever. I just… I know you’re going through something right now, and Darnel said that you’re probably stressing out enough over Grant, and I just want you to know that I still love you, okay? Whatever else I feel right now, I still love you and Grant.”

           “But you want a divorce,” Darryl said dully.

           “I- yes. Yes.” Carol sounded so defeated. Darryl wished he knew what to say, but at times like this he usually just hugged his wife until things got better. He was more tactile than verbal, on the phone he felt helpless. “You weren’t supposed to hear it like that. It’s not your fault. It’s really not. I know it’s cliché to say it’s not you, it’s me but… it’s not even me, I guess? It’s both of us just… not working anymore. I feel like we go through the motions of husband and wife, but there’s just nothing else there. I go to work, come home, and you’ve done all the household chores, but you can’t stick around because Grant’s got a soccer game. Or you’ve got yet another DIY project to work on. You’re making beer, or pop, or a chair, or… I don’t know. We don’t do anything together except sleep, most days.”

          “I-I’m sorry.” Darryl swallowed hard and buried himself back into the warm wetness behind him, trying to find the comfort from before. He was surprised to feel that odd stroking along his back through the wall again, and this time it actually felt soothing. “I’m sorry, you should have said something, I would have-“

         “But I DID say something Darryl!” Carol’s voice took on an edge of frustration. “I say, ‘hey, let’s have a date night’, and you say yes, but you always go overboard with it. First you pick a restaurant, then you decide you could cook something better. You go and buy the food for it while I’m working, and then you cook a ton and invite the neighbors over, assuming I won’t mind. It happens so often I don’t even bother asking anymore. You don’t make time for just us, and it makes me wonder if maybe you don’t really want to be alone with me, either. Would you even know what to talk about? What do we have in common anymore?”

         “Uh, we… we watch Jeopardy?”

        “Jeopardy.” He couldn’t see it, but Darryl knew exactly the way in which Carol was throwing her hands in the air with exasperation. “Darryl, we don’t even watch that together anymore, because when your answer doesn’t match the question you have to pause Netflix to look it up on your phone. No one does that, you know that, right?”

        Darryl cleared his throat a little. “Um, actually, you mean if my question doesn’t match the answer, because that’s the whole… gimmick of… Jeopardy… I’m going to stop talking now.”

        Carol was quiet for a bit, and Darryl was about to check if he had accidentally hung up when she finally spoke again. “Look, maybe we can talk more when you’re back, but I’m not changing my mind on this. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Too long. We just, we aren’t connected anymore. Not like we should be. You know that, right?”

        The worst part about all of this was that, deep down, Darryl did know that. He knew that Carol had been withdrawing from him for a while, but he hadn’t fully understood why, or how to fix it. He wasn’t great at communicating, so he avoided it. And the more Carol tried to get him to talk about anything important, the more he avoided being in situations where she could try to open him up. He thought if he could just make the house perfect, or keep things together for her so she would only have to worry about her work and not feel stressed, maybe that would be enough. It wasn’t though. God, he knew it wasn’t.

       “You know, this could be good for you, too. I mean, we were both each other’s first love, right? It makes sense that we’re still important to each other, but this would give you the chance to find someone who can really give you a connection. I hope we both can find that one day, even if it’s not with each other. You need someone you feel comfortable showing yourself to, to expose to all that crap you’ve got bottled up inside, and… and that person clearly isn’t me.”

        Darryl bit his lip and closed his eyes. When he spoke again his voice was rough. “I love you, Carol.”

         A hiss of breath. “I… I know you do. I love you, too. But it feels like… it feels like that love doesn’t come with happiness attached to it anymore. I want to be happy, Darryl. And I just don’t think you can give me that. And I don’t think I can give you that, either.”

        “What about Grant?” Darryl asked suddenly. “What will happen with him?”

       “Oh, um,” There was a drumming sound, Darryl knew it was his wife’s nails on the kitchen counter. “I know that’s going to be a hard talk, but Grant’s a mature kid. I’m sure if we tell him gently, he’ll understand. I don’t want us to be like those angry divorcees. I don’t want a big fight with Grant in the middle. We’ll keep it fair. I know you’re better with childcare than me, and this was all my idea so, I think it’s best if you keep living in the house with Grant. I’ll pay child support, alimony until you find a job? You don’t mind that, right?”

        “N-no, I can find a job.” Darryl’s eyes flew open when he was hit with the implications of going back into the workforce after almost ten years out of it. Though, with his eyes open, Darryl remembered that he was currently in the belly of monster who was eating parts of him on the regular, and his son was still kidnapped. He had a lot worse things to worry about at the moment before he could consider the horrors of wearing a tie again.

       “Right.” Carol sighed softly, and the sadness in the noise broke Darryl’s heart. “I just wanted you to know exactly how I felt, so that you won’t be distracted by wondering. It’s not that I stopped caring about you. How are you doing, by the way? Have you found Grant, yet?”

        “Oh, uh, I-I know where he is, and the other dads are working on getting him, for sure.”

       “The other dads? What about you?”

        “Uh,” Darryl frowned and squirmed a little against the flexible hold of the Library’s stomach. “Listen, Carol, um. Things aren’t… good. You can talk to Mercedes Oak-Garcia about it, because Henry’s told her the whole thing I’m pretty sure, but this whole situation is really complicated and kind of unbelievable. Like, I legitimately don’t think I could explain it in a way you’ll believe.”

        “Well, try me! Look, you’re still important to me, whether I want a divorce or not. I want to know what’s going on with you, maybe I can help.”

         “Help?” Darryl gave a hysterical giggle, immediately trying to quiet it. He didn’t want to worry Carol, not now. But if she wanted him to talk, why not tell her the truth? How could it possibly make things worse? “Okay, I’ll tell you what’s happening. I swear to you that this isn’t a joke. I’ll tell you the whole thing, cause I sure as hell have time to. It will sound like a bad drug trip, but I swear I’m completely sober. Okay?”

        “O-kay?”

        So Darryl took a deep breath, and started talking. He started explaining about the van, and the portal. He stressed that they had been trapped in this world for months, and that time was weird there. He explained that the kids had been sold into slavery before the dads even gained consciousness in the car, and pushed through the bits about finding each boy only to have them stolen again by the men in the purple robes. Finally though, he was forced into describing his current predicament. “The books were destroyed, and we couldn’t return them. So the Library, which you remember is this weird monster guy, he uh, he took me as collateral.”

        “Took you?” It was the first words Carol had spoken since Darryl’s explanation began, and they startled him.

        “Oh! Yeah, he uh…” Darryl cast around for the words. He didn’t want Carol to know the worst details, he didn’t want her to think he was actually suffering. She had enough to process as it was. “I-I’m basically an indentured servant. Um, household chores, cooking meals… and stuff.”

        “So basically what you do here.”

        “Er, yeah basically. I-it’s not so bad, but um, he doesn’t want to let me go, ever. And I tried to escape, and it didn’t work, and this is pretty legal in this world so I can’t even phone the wizard cops or something. I’m not even totally sure where I am, so phoning the other dads didn’t help much. But like I said, the other dads are still out there. I think they’ve entered some kind of fantasy sport competition to win money to hire a mercenary army? So I’m sure they can save them with that, and they can definitely bring Grant home.”

       “But not you? What about you, Darryl?”

        “Me?” Darryl’s hand shook again. “I’m fine. It’s fine. I’ll just… I’ll handle it. If I can get out of this, I will.”

       “If? But what if you can’t? Look, trust me, I am struggling to believe any of this, but if some guy’s holding you captive, and you have your phone, there’s got to be someone you can call to help. Are you really okay?”

        Darryl let out a frustrated whine, pushing a hand through his hair to steady himself. “Look, if I can’t get out and Grant is able to be saved without me, that’s good. I just want Grant home and safe. I can handle whatever happens to me here. And… and maybe I can…” A thought struck Darryl. “Uh, I mean, it’s a long shot but the Library isn’t so bad, I think? He… he isn’t going to let me go, I know that, but if I ask right he might help me save Grant? Maybe?”

        “Um, it might be worth a try? Look, I don’t think I want Grant around someone like that, but if it’s the only way for you to help make sure Grant’s safe, you should do what you have to.”

         Darryl swallowed again. “Do what I have to, huh?”

        “Darryl, Grant’s our son. You have to do whatever it takes to help him from wherever you are. And I’ll call Mercedes, and see what we can do over here, okay? If we can help you, we will. I promise that much.”

        “Right.” Darryl’s brain was buzzing, he needed to think this through more, but he wasn’t ready to hang up yet. “So… it’s over between us, then? It’s really over?”

       “It sounds like you have enough to worry about without that, but if it at least gives you closure then, yes. We’re still friends. I still care about you. But as far as I’m concerned, our marriage is over. I’m sorry, Darryl.”

        “No, no don’t apologize. I’m sorry. It’s okay. Thanks for uh, for letting me know.”

        “Okay, um, Darnel’s still in the other room, so I gotta talk to him and call Mercedes. Is it okay if I hang up? I can call you back later.”

         No it wasn’t, nothing about this was okay, and hanging up was the least okay thing of all. “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.” Darryl flinched as the words came automatically, like breathing.

         “I-I love you too, Darryl. Jesus, I really am sorry about this. Should’ve said something sooner. No, it’s okay. Just take care of yourself, save our son, I’ll call you back.”

         The next thing Darryl heard was the dial tone. He let the phone fall into his lap and curled forward into a ball in that darkened space, trying to stop his breath from hitching. As the start of a drawn out sob scraped Darryl’s throat, he was grounded only by the stroking that kept its steady pace up and down his back as the Library headed for home.

Chapter 10: Drunk

Summary:

Darryl is taken back home and is assured that even if his wife has left him, there is one eldritch monstrosity that will always want him around. Also there's finally that oral sex I promised several chapters ago.

10 Drunk

            The Library took his time before letting Darryl out of his stomach. He didn’t feel in the least bit bad about that, since he was still rather angry with Darryl for leaving, even if he was angrier with his wayward cousin. His pet could sit in time out a while longer. In fact, considering that the odds were high that Darryl might say something infuriating enough to push him over the edge, he was probably safer in time out anyway. The first thing the Library did when he reached his keep was extend his body and limbs to crawl up and over the closed gate, ensuring he kept the villagers who had followed him at bay and out of his business. They complained, naturally, but the Library quickly reassured them that he was merely fetching their reparations. He scurried off across the courtyard, through the main hall, down a secret passageway, and into the small treasure room where he had stored his twenty-four remaining gems. He wasn’t entirely sure how much it would cost to repair the village. It surely wouldn’t take all the gems, but one or two might not cover it. He needed to hold onto some to take care of Darryl, as well. He finally decided to split the difference, gathered up twelve of them, and delivered them to the unwitting victims of his drunken rampage. The villagers were extremely pleased and excited by their newfound riches and left, most likely to spend them on frivolities, but that was their own business now. Darryl should be happy with that resolution, anyway. No one could say they hadn’t helped the local economy now. It would also be beneficial if the money helped the village rebuild faster. The Library didn’t hold much stock in the shelf life of the food he bought for Darryl before, and the next village over was a considerably greater distance to travel for groceries. This was an awful lot of inconvenience his pet and cousin had caused.

            The Library settled into his favorite chair in the main hall and tried focusing on his reading to calm himself down. Unfortunately, Great Orc! Bardic Ballads and Blues Tunes wasn’t holding his attention as much as he had hoped it would, and he found himself rereading the line 'And step-sister choked to death on bones' from The Eating-Rats-Sucks Song about six times before giving up on it. He was going to have to punish his pet sooner or later, it may as well be sooner. Nothing too harsh of course, but since Darryl hadn’t earned many freedoms yet, there wasn’t much he could take away from him as punishment, short of locking him into his bedroom. The Library was reluctant to do that, since then he would then have to remember to bring him meals and take him out to do his business. Keeping a pet was a lot easier when it largely took care of itself.

            Spanking it was, then! Cheered by this tantalizing decision, the Library ensured he was firmly back in his more human-like form, his body sounding off with the fierce creaking of many bones shifting and terraforming themselves. Then he leaned over and, after hacking a few times, his mouth opened wide enough to reach into. He dug around with a few limbs until he found Darryl’s broad shoulder, and was surprised to find the man was still curled in on himself. The Library remembered the he had done that earlier when he was stroking him, but hadn’t paid much attention to him since. Maybe something was wrong? Feeling a touch of concern, the Library grabbed Darryl firmly under his armpits and hauled him out without a single protest. Instead of ejecting him onto the floor as usual, the Library stretched out his limbs to hold Darryl in mid-air like a soggy cat, turning the man around to face him. He was indeed a sorry sight. His tight shirt clung to him with the Library’s saliva, and had a few small tears at the sleeves that would need mending. His shorts weren’t much better, and of course one of his shoes was gone. His beard and hair were both a ratty mess, but Darryl’s eyes were the worst of him. They were red rimmed and downcast, and the Library sucked in his bottom lip.

            “Ew, uh, wow. I’m sorry I left you in there for so long? I promise I’m not that mad.” The Library set Darryl down gently on the stone floor, where he swayed but still wouldn’t meet the Library’s eyes. The Library frowned, reaching out to cradle the man’s face in his hands, tilting it up. Darryl’s head moved listlessly, no fight in him at all. “Okay, clearly something happened. What's up, sweetmeat?”

            “S’nothing, M’fine,” Darryl mumbled, finally trying to turn his head away, but the Library’s grip tightened so he couldn’t budge. Darryl grunted in frustration and shut his eyes. “I said I’m fine.”

            “Yes, you did. But since that was obviously bullshit, you should tell me what happened.” Darryl tried to struggle again, this time grabbing at the Library’s arms with his hands and pulling, but the Library would have none of it. Eyes flaring, Darryl left hand grabbed his right and forced it down. Darryl grunted and tried to kick, only for his right foot to rise into the air of its own accord, forcing Darryl to keep his other foot down lest he choke himself in the Library’s hands. He was clearly becoming frustrated. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me, Darryl. I can stand here far longer than you can, and I have a far more succulent view. You may as well get it over with.”

            “Carol called me, okay?” Darryl snapped, trying to look anywhere but the Library, though that was difficult with how close he was to his face. “Carol called me when I was in you. Which sounds worse than it- actually is that even worse than-? Whatever, she called me.”

            “Oh!” The Library’s mouth turned up in a grin. “That’s good! What did she say?”

            Darryl’s eyes finally returned to the Library’s, but now they were clearly angry. “That our marriage is over, and I can’t do a-anything to fix it.” His voice cracked, but the Library felt a swell of excitement. He immediately grabbed Darryl back up into his limbs and twirled him in a circle. “H-hey! Put me down! I’m kind of fucking upset about that!”

            The Library knew that, but he couldn’t quell the elation he felt knowing his pet had cut ties with what he saw as the biggest obstacle stopping him from fully accepting his new circumstances. Instead of letting go, he decided to tease him as he pulled his pet fully into his embrace, enjoying the way he squirmed against him. “Oh, upset are we? I thought you said you were ‘fine’?”

            Darryl’s face was smooshed into the Library’s chest so hard that he could feel the man grit his teeth before hissing his response. “Well, obviously that was bullshit! My wife just fucking told me I’m a terrible husband, and that I can never make her happy! I tried-“ Darryl’s chest heaved and a whine escaped him. “I tried so hard, damn it.”

            The Library’s grin slowly slid off his face as Darryl shook in his arms, and he could feel the man’s eyes growing damp where they pressed into the Library’s leather suit jacket. His pet’s distress was finally enough to dampen his mood. It was one thing to tease Darryl into his delightfully frantic hysteria, but this was too far. The man was clearly breaking down, and the Library was the only one who could comfort him. He certainly didn’t have a ton of experience in the area, but surely he had read enough books about humans taking care of each other to do this? First, the Library gentled his squeeze into something more supportive than constricting. He firmed it up again as Darryl tried to pull back, likely assuming the Library was finished with him. Not the case at all. “No, Darryl. You'll stay right here with me.”

            “I don’t want you to hug me.” Darryl’s voice was rough and rude, but the Library ignored the tone.

            “Well I want to hug you, so I’m going to. You can cry and blubber all you want, but I’m not going anywhere, so you may as well get comfortable. I-oh.” The Library’s eyes widened in surprise as Darryl’s whole body shuddered with a gasp and slowly, hesitantly, the man’s burly arms rose and wrapped around the Library’s torso. The embrace was soft at first, uncertain, but when the Library didn’t move or speak it tightened considerably. In fact, it grew tight enough to knock a little wind out of him. He could often forget that Darryl had a lot of raw physical strength behind him. He seemed to show it unintentionally in most cases.

            They stood like that for a long time. Darryl’s breathing came stuttering and in gasps, occasionally shaking his body and leaving him clinging to the Library as though for dear life. He never quite broke down into the wailing that the Library would sometimes hear from his negligent book borrowers when they were halfway down his throat. The croaking sobs and low whines were much softer and subdued. He was clearly trying to hold in the extent of his pain even now, and the Library could think of nothing to do other than to hold the man and run his limbs soothingly over his back and through his matted hair, trying to amuse himself by untangling it bit by bit. And he had to amuse himself because unfortunately, as much as the Library was enjoying his pet being vulnerable with him, after several minutes he was also getting a little bored. It wasn’t Darryl’s fault. As far as the Library could tell, humans were just like this sometimes. If he was going to be responsible for Darryl, he needed to take care of his emotional needs, too. His research materials had been very clear on that. But maybe it wouldn’t matter if he was reading something at the same time as comforting? Anyway, Darryl had quieted considerably, only sniffling occasionally and his grip had relaxed a great deal. “We can move over to my chair?” The Library suggested. Darryl stiffened. “It would probably be more comfortable to snuggle in.”

            “No, god,” Darryl laughed, a watery but welcome sound. “I feel better now, actually, but I don’t want to snuggle with you.”

            “What do you call this, then?”

            “Hugging, and we only doing that cause you wanted to, remember?”

            “Oh yes, of course,” the Library rolled his eyes, but finally gave Darryl the wiggle-room to leave if he wanted. Now that he had thought of it, he was quite looking forward to returning to his book. He could probably focus on it better now that he wasn’t angry with Darryl anymore. He wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t angry with Darryl, he hadn’t done anything even approximating punishing him. But he didn’t feel the need to do so any longer, either. Darryl let go of the Library and backed away, but didn’t quite go out of reach, and the Library’s limbs lingered on his shoulders. Darryl’s expression was strange, as though he were trying to decide on something. His eyes flickered a couple of times between the Library’s eyes and mouth, and Darryl’s own lips parted as if to speak a couple of times before snapping closed and finally drawing away entirely.

            “Uh, thanks, I guess.” Darryl coughed and rubbed the back of his head. “I’m gonna go. I think I’m gonna get some water and uh, have a nap. If that’s okay.”

            The Library nodded. “That’s fine, Darryl. I’ll wake you for dinner, then? Thinking about some shoulder tonight.”

            Darryl’s hand reached absently for his shoulder as his expression did something strange, a flurry of emotions passing over his face before it settled into something neutral and defeated. “I- yeah. Yeah, okay. Of course. See you later, then.” He turned and left without another word or backwards glance. The Library felt oddly unsettled as he sat back down with his book. He thought he had done quite well with comforting his pet, but when Darryl had left he couldn’t help but feel as though he might’ve said the entirely wrong thing. The more time he spent entertaining that thought, the more the Library’s attention wandered from his book and back to tracking Darryl through the corridors.

*

            When Darryl reached his bedroom, he found he had worked himself up into too many nerves to lie down. He didn’t know why he felt this badly about it. The Library had been clear from the start that Darryl was there because he tasted good. That was all. Letting himself forget that in his moment of weakness felt good at the time, but now it just made the whole loss of face earlier sickening in his memory. He pulled out the wooden chair that went with the desk and sat on it, knees bouncing. He wanted a drink, but there wasn’t any Pale Ale to be found around here. Maybe he could ask the Library for beer, but where would he even get it from? He said the villagers were mad at him, so he probably couldn’t buy any right now. Maybe he could get the wine he used for cooking in the kitchen. It would probably give him a worse hangover than he wanted, but maybe he could also just completely black out and the Library could do what he wanted without Darryl having to slug through it consciously for once.

            Darryl jumped to his feet and strode out into the hallway and toward the kitchen with purpose. He didn’t want to think any harder right now. He had broken down, and the Library had seen him do it. He had said… what had he said? Darryl didn’t want to think too hard about that, either. He wanted that wine. He wanted the pain to stop. He knew his dad would be disappointed that he was automatically turning to the bottle, but there was no one to talk to about this. The Library wasn’t an option. He just wasn’t. He couldn’t call Carol anymore. He… could he call Henry? That thought almost stopped Darryl, and his hand drifted to his pocket. He could call Henry. Henry would listen. Darryl knew Henry would listen. But what would Henry tell him to do? To breathe deeply? Drink some fucking tea? Darryl didn’t even like tea! Not to mention he didn’t know if the Library had any to start with. Besides, Henry would probably get sappy about it, and he wasn’t even there in person to hug Darryl like he wanted- shit. Darryl made a pained noise and sped up as images of the ‘hug’ he just escaped from, combined with a number of times Carol held him as he fell apart, as well as Henry’s moments of confusing physical affection, all blew across his mind like newspaper clippings in a hurricane. He wasn’t going to think about any of that. It still hurt too much. He wanted that wine. He tore through the cupboard once he reached the kitchen, knowing full well he looked like a drug addict itching for his fix and not caring. He was overwhelmed, and his heart hurt. Grant was gone, and he couldn’t even save himself let alone his own son. Carol was gone, and nothing he could do would fix it. The dads were gone, and having adventures without him. Did they even need him? And the Library was… just a monster who wanted to eat him.

            Darryl’s hands were sweating badly enough that he needed to use his shirt to grip the cork and pull it from the bottle. He almost tilted it straight into his mouth when a rogue rational thought whispered to him, reminding him that he wasn’t a college student anymore. Darryl made a few hesitant attempts to ignore that and drink from the bottle anyway, before giving in and going to the other cupboard to grab a large wine glass. He poured a generous amount in, and then drank from the glass in gulps that would make a wine connoisseur gag in revulsion. But Darryl didn’t care about the taste and smell, he just wanted to get drunk as fast as possible. He tried to pour another glass, but suddenly his hand refused to cooperate. Darryl glared down at it and slammed his glass down on the counter, yanking the bottle out of his disobedient left hand and pouring another glass as the eye on his palm looked at him disapprovingly.

            “You aren’t going to stop me from getting drunk!” Darryl snapped. “My wife just left me!”

            “I thought you were going to get some water and take a nap.”

            Darryl spun around on the spot and faced the Library in the doorway, limbs folded and face matching the disapproval of his disembodied eye. “Well, I couldn’t sleep.”

            “Didn’t try very hard, either.” The Library tilted his head and sucked in his cheeks as Darryl grabbed the wine glass in his left hand. He brought it to his lips as though daring the Library to stop him, and took another long drink. The Library watched, but didn’t make a move to stop him, instead only looking at the bottle and back to Darryl a couple of times. Then, he let out a long-suffering sigh. “Well, I see that I can’t stop you. Or, well, I could stop you, but you’d probably just get pissy or something. Go ahead and drink the whole thing, if you think that will make you feel better.”

            Darryl huffed and turned away from the Library, draining the rest of the glass and expecting the Library to leave and go back to his books now that he'd given up Darryl to his vice of choice. He probably realized there wasn’t really enough wine left for Darryl to give himself alcohol poisoning off it, even if it wouldn’t leave him feeling good in the morning. So there was no point in the Library sticking around to watch as Darryl’s head grew fuzzy and vague. To his surprise, however, he heard the scrape of a chair and turned to find that the Library had settled himself down at the kitchen table and was watching him. Darryl shifted awkwardly under the gaze, but found his left hand worked for him now, pouring yet more wine in the glass with ease. “Aren’t you going to go?” Darryl asked, voice dull as he brought the bottle and glass to the table and sank automatically into the chair opposite the Library. Same place where he’d been eating his meals for the last week.

            The Library snorted and shook his head in annoyance. “I already told you that I’m not going anywhere.”

            Darryl’s mouth twitched a couple of times and then settled into a line. “Cause I taste good.”

            The Library grinned deviously. “Oh, you most certainly do.” When Darryl’s gaze dropped down to his wine and silence reigned, however, the Library seemed puzzled. “I mean, you already know that, though, don’t you?”

            “Yeah, I know.” Darryl mouth twitched again. “I just thought that… ugh.” He covered his mouth with his hand, he didn’t want to say something stupid just because he’d drank too much too fast. He closed his eyes to muddle through his words for something to say. “Just sucks that’s all I’m here for, is all.”

            The Library straightened in his seat. “Oh! Well, that’s the reason I took you in, of course! But you’ve already proven far more valuable than that.”

            That hadn’t been expected. Darryl strained himself to think of when he might have done that. “Because… I can cook?”

            “You can cook, and very well.” The Library nodded. "Although you haven’t looked at any of my cook books, I’ve noticed.”

            “I, uh, don’t like reading.” Darryl felt like a fool saying it out loud to the Library of all people. “It gives me a headache. And I always take too long to do it.” He bit his tongue. That last part wasn’t supposed to come out of his mouth. Damn it, he definitely drank too much. The wine didn’t even taste that good on its own, it was starting to put him off. He pushed the glass away from him a little, the remaining wine sloshing a red stain against the sides.

            The Library hummed, stroking his chin. “Well, I could read them to you, if that would help.”

            “I don’t want your help,” Darryl muttered.

            “Yeah, that doesn't surprise me,” the Library said, his tone flat. “You do like to do things yourself. I expect if I keep leaving you to your own devices you could have this whole castle fixed up and refurbished in the next five years or so.” His tone brightened. “Which is, incidentally, another way you’ve been making yourself useful. It’s not really necessary, but I do so appreciate you keeping yourself busy.”

            Darryl was starting to feel uncomfortable again, in spite of his buzz. “Okay, so I taste good, and I can cook and clean like a servant. Great.”

            “And you’re cute, can’t forget that.”

            Darryl’s face flushed bright red. “I- I am not!”

            “Yes you are!” The Library was grinning again, and before Darryl could stop him he extended a limb and bopped Darryl’s nose with one spindly finger. Darryl made a face and rubbed at his nose as soon as the Library withdrew, but that only served to make the monster laugh. “Darryl, you are adorable. Your wife was a fool to leave you.”

            That did it. Darryl’s expression set itself in stone. “Carol’s not a fool. She’s way smarter than me, or you, or anyone.”

            “Can’t be that smart if she’s leaving you.”

            “No.” Darryl wouldn’t budge on that. “Carol is the smartest person I know. I’m the one who messed everything up.”

            The Library’s voice lost its certainty. “Oh? What did you do?”

            Darryl’s lips pursed as he looked down at the table. “None of your business.”

            The Library sighed. “You don’t communicate well, do you?”

            Darryl’s eyes widened as he looked back at the Library in shock. “Wha- how did you know?”

            “What do you mean, how did I know? You don’t talk about anything unless it’s forced out of you.” The Library squinted at Darryl for a second. “Oh, that’s why she left you? You don’t communicate?”

            “What? Yes, obviously that’s why- wait you didn’t know? You… ugh.” Darryl rubbed his forehead. Wine always hit him hard, his head was already starting to pound.

            “Darryl, why don’t you tell me what happened?” The Library coaxed. “It’s not as though it’s going to change my opinion of you.”

            “It won’t change anything, whether I say it or not.”

            “So why not say it?”

            “Why say it?” Darryl challenged, giving in and grabbing the glass again for another swig.

            The Library made a frustrated noise and drummed his fingers on the table for a minute. Then he closed his eyes, gave a tiny nod, and presented Darryl with a smile that, under other circumstances, would have come across as charming. “How about I suck your dick?”

            Darryl immediately did a spit-take, spraying wine across the table onto the Library’s jacket. The monster looked displeased, but didn’t say anything else as Darryl sputtered and coughed, pounding on his chest. Finally he caught his breath enough to gasp out a weak, “What?”

            “Well, your wife left you. You’ve cried, and drank too much. Seems like a sexual misadventure is the next logical step to punishing yourself for it, if I’m remembering my bard songs correctly.” The Library shrugged. “I’m not asking you to fuck…” he trailed off, letting the unsaid ‘yet’ hang between them before pressing on. “But it couldn’t hurt to let me blow you, and see how you feel?”

            Darryl felt a swell of horror in his stomach. “But, wouldn’t you bite it off?”

            The Library looked a little startled. “Bite it…? I guess you would assume that. I’m not planning on it, though.”

            “Oh yeah, and why wouldn’t you? Since I taste so good?”

            “Well, I can taste you without biting it off. And besides, I don’t see a point in it.” The Library shrugged. “If I took control of your dick, you wouldn’t be able to feel it. Kind of defeats the purpose of anything I might do with a remote controlled monster cock, don’t you think?”

            Darryl deflated in his seat. “Er, I guess. Wow. Uh, but, why would you want to?”

            “You taste good. Also, I legitimately cannot think of any other way to cheer you up right now. You’re a tough man to please, Darryl.”

            “Not that tough,” Darryl let out a breathy giggle, coming swiftly to the realization that he might be far enough gone emotionally and drunkenly to take the Library up on his over.

            “So?”

            “Just, uh, no teeth.” Darryl paused. “Wait, or tongue. Your tongue is sharp… your tongue is sharp! How are you supposed to-?"

            “Darryl, I will not hurt you.” The Library said this with enough deadly seriousness that Darryl was caught up short. “Okay?”

            Darryl shouldn’t believe the Library. The Library was keeping him prisoner, he wasn't his friend, there was no way he had earned his trust. But then again, he had kept his word about not hurting him while he ‘harvested’ from him. In fact, it had been days since the Library had last hurt him directly at all. And even if he was lying, what would it even matter? The Library would just heal him afterwards like he always did, that had been true from the beginning. Darryl’s head hurt, and despite the wine, he still felt lousy. Maybe the Library was right, maybe an orgasm would cheer him up. “Okay. Fine. I’m probably crazy but yeah, okay, I trust you not to hurt me.” Darryl cleared his throat, this time pushing the remains of the wine away from him fully. The Library’s chair screeched as he pushed it out and he was in front of Darryl in seconds, pulling him out of his own chair, blurring the kitchen with how fast he moved Darryl so that he was sitting on the counter top, legs dangling over the edge. “Oh my god. Do we have to do this here?”

            “What’s wrong with here?” The Library copied the man's inflection as he laced Darryl’s hands with a couple of his own to keep them out of the way while he nimbly unbuttoned and unzipped Darryl’s cargo shorts.

            “Well, usually when I’m on this counter I’m getting carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey, so it doesn’t really turn me on,” Darryl grumbled, tried to pull his hands out of the Library’s and only serving to make the monster cling to them tighter.

            “Hmm, I guess we’re overdue to give it a more positive association for you, then,” the Library said resolutely as he tugged Darryl’s shorts and briefs down, lifting him slightly to get them over his ass and letting them fall over his feet to the floor. The counter was cold against Darryl's buttocks, and it sobered him to the situation considerably.

            “Oh my god, this is really happening.”

            “Did you think it wasn’t?” The Library sounded amused as he lifted Darryl’s cock into his hand, testing the weight of it. Carol never complained, but Darryl found himself unwillingly self-conscious of what the Library was going to say about it. As it turned out, however, the Library said nothing. He only knelt to the floor at Darryl’s feet and took him in to the root with no hesitation.

            “Holy shit!” Darryl gasped, hands instinctively tried to reach down, to grab at the Library’s head and hold onto it for dear life as he was assaulted by the most glorious suction. True to his word, there was absolutely no pain or sharpness to be found. No fangs, no tongue, only a hot, wet, smooth cavern that sucked like a Hoover, as unsexy as that sounded. But Darryl couldn’t grab the Library’s head, his hands were still being restrained, and so he clung to to the Library's fingers instead. He crushed them in his grip as the Library’s head began to bob up and down around his length, and Darryl realized he had become hard without noticing. Well, it was hard not to under such ministrations. He curled in on himself, over the Library as he was taken in again and again without mercy. “God, fuck, it’s too much. It’s so much I’m gonna- Fuck I’m gonna-“ And that was it. It was the fastest Darryl had ever come in his life. From flaccid to fountaining, he was sure it had been less than five minutes, but fuck, that felt good. He hadn’t been able to properly masturbate in ages, and that was so much better than his hands could do. It was definitely the best blow job he had had in his life, and he couldn’t even think around the bliss enough to be concerned about it. Stars twinkled at the edges of his vision as the room blurred and fatigue set into his bones. As for the monster, the second Darryl’s load blew from him the Library’s eyes had closed and he let out a moan that most men would give upon eating steak at a fine restaurant. There was no doubt that he had achieved his own pleasure from the act. When the Library’s mouth came away from the head of Darryl’s cock with a wet pop, a threat of thick, white liquid stretched between them as the Library looked up at him with a curious expression. He must have swallowed. Of course he fucking swallowed.

            “Was that good?” He asked, and Darryl didn’t know what to say. Was it good? Was seeing Star Wars for the first time in theaters, good? Was dumping Gatorade on his best friend in college after winning the big game, good? Was his son’s birth, good? Shit, he really didn’t want to be thinking about his son now. Nothing seemed like enough, and saying ‘best blow job ever’ was probably crass. So Darryl didn’t say anything. He simply nodded, dumbly, and shivered under the Library’s satisfied smirk. “Feel better?” Another nod. The Library stood up triumphantly, towering over Darryl yet again and clapped. There was still cum dribbling from the side of his mouth and Darryl couldn’t take his tired eyes off of it. “Delightful! Now, off to bed with you. I’ll count your payment of flesh paid in full for today, I think. You’ve had a busy day to recover from.”

            Darryl stared at the Library in response, only somewhat dampening the other’s spirits. Maybe he assumed that Darryl was too tired and wine-addled to respond. The next several minutes were a hazy blur as Darryl was lifted down from the counter top and carried out and down the hall to his bedroom again. He was eased down onto his sheets and felt infinitely better once his head was on the pillow. He must have fallen asleep, because although he only seemed to blink, in the next moment the room was much darker and his head was pounding in earnest. A shadow moved near his head and he squinted into the gloom to see the Library setting a glass of water on the end table. Darryl wormed a hand out from under the covers (had the Library tucked him in?) and reached for it. His throat was like a desert. The Library wordlessly moved the glass closer to Darryl’s grasping fingers and stayed with him as he pushed himself up against the headboard to drain the glass dry. “Thanks,” he finally rasped, moving to snuggle back under the sheets, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

           “It’s been some hours, Darryl,” the Library chided. “Don’t you think it’s time for dinner?”

           Darryl’s eyes met the Library’s and suddenly his throat felt dry again. But as his stomach growled, he knew the answer well enough. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

Chapter 11: Help

Summary:

Darryl asks for help, and the Library dry humps him for his trouble.

11 Help

            Darryl wasn’t really surprised that the Library decided that blow jobs were going to become a regular part of the day. He was a little put off by the fact that the Library had decided that the best time to blow him was in the kitchen, right before putting him under the knife.

              Darryl tried to protest this, insisting that he would rather get his dick sucked in the bedroom, or in the main hall, or damn it, even in the dinky hole-in-the-ground outhouse he had been doing his business in. But the Library had merely tutted, stroked Darryl’s head, and said, “Oh Darryl, I have so much fun chopping you into pieces, I just want you to be having fun, too!” And then he would suck dick like a champion, and Darryl would be left too blissed out and satisfied to even be grumpy when the Library reached for his cleaver and murmured his spell to deaden all of Darryl’s nerve endings. They already felt pretty dead after an intense orgasm, so it was an easy transition. Darryl even found himself dozing off a couple of times during a harvest.

             In fact, the new routine effectively stopped Darryl from dreading his daily forced flesh offering at all. After a few days, he was even starting to look forward to it, which he would never admit to but he figured the Library must know. It was hard to hide the fact that he was usually half hard by the time his ass hit the counter every afternoon. Between anticipated orgasms, cooking meals, and completing an endless stream of DIY projects from leveling chairs and tables to expanding the garden plot, Darryl was starting to feel disturbingly content with this bizarre routine. He expected at some point the Library would start demanding more from him sexually, but beyond that, it was kind of nice to have so many distractions. He didn’t have to think about the outside world if he didn’t want to. And he definitely did not want to.

          This may have continued on much longer than it did if the Library had remembered to destroy Darryl’s phone. In truth, the Library had sort of forgotten about it. He had swallowed it, he knew Darryl had used it, but somehow it hadn’t occurred to him that Darryl might still have it. However, Darryl had stowed it in his room under his pillow and never bothered to check it, so it hadn’t caused much trouble to this point. But it did mean that he did eventually receive a call from Henry that broke him out of his self-imposed distraction parade.

            “Darryl! What the hell, man? I’ve been calling you for over a week, I thought- we all thought…”

            Darryl winced, flipping over and rubbing his eyes. It was about dawn, and it was only by chance that Darryl’s head was just above the phone under his pillow, vibrating him gently awake. “Yeah, sorry, things have been… things have been weird here, I guess. Uh, how have you guys been?”

            “Well, we won the money from the competition. It was actually kind of easy. I just turned into different animals that the other team couldn’t catch so, yeah, we got a lot of money. We went to hire a mercenary army, but then it turned out that Dennis, get this, is ANOTHER dad! Yeah, I know, right? He’s looking for his kid, too! So he’s been hanging out with us. Ron seems to think he’s lying, but I don’t know why he would, I mean, who lies about being a dad?”

            “Uh-huh,” Darryl replied, looking down at his hand. There wasn’t an eye on it at the moment, but he knew that didn’t mean the Library wasn’t paying attention. While Darryl hadn’t been told he couldn’t use his phone, he still had to be careful what he said. “Uh, so you’re going to assault Castle Ravenloft, then?”

            "I mean, we can definitely do that now. But we were also thinking that we have enough money to hire these guys for like, a month I think? So maybe, if you have anything you could tell us about where you are, we could bring the army your way and save you, too! We could swing by on the way, you know? Then you can save Grant in person!”

            Darryl’s mouth dried immediately. Grant. Jesus Christ, he was supposed to ask the Library to help him save Grant. How the hell did he forget his own son? Darryl sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and began to pace. “Uh, really? That’s uh, great. Um, I mean, I could tell you some stuff, I guess, but I don’t know how much help it would be.”

            “Well, anything could help. Even if it’s just the general topography, or even a description of nearby towns.”

            “Uh, well the Library mentioned something about him destroying a nearby town last time I called you, but I don’t know about any others.”

            “We could work with that! I’m sure word would get around if the Library destroyed a town somewhere. We’ll ask around, find you, and launch an assault!”

            “Wait, uh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

            “What makes you say that?”

            “Well for one thing, the Library wiped out a whole town. He’s not some wishy washy purple robe magic guy. I mean, even if that worked-“ Darryl froze, looking back down at his empty hand again. He bit his lip, grabbed his blanket, and wrapped it tightly around his whole arm. “Even if that worked, I have no idea how many mercenaries you’d have left by the time you beat him, so I think you’d be better off getting the kids first, and seeing how that goes.”

            “But… didn’t you say the Library was hurting you? I mean, doesn’t that mean you’re the one in more danger here? I don’t think the purple robes are hurting the kids, so they could probably wait a bit longer.”

            “No way. For all we know, you might get one shot at this with your mercenaries. You should get the kids, and get them home. If I get out of this, I’ll do it on my own. Or… or maybe after you get the kids, you could just send whatever mercenaries are left to try and help me? But the kids are more important.”

            “Are you sure? Because we could use the help with the mission, really. I’m not sure if these guys think much of us, none of us are really fighters like them.”

            “You’ve got a mercenary army, what more could I do to help? You don’t need me there.”

            “But we MISS you, Darryl, damn it!” Henry’s breath hitched and Darryl was caught up short. “I miss you, okay? It’s not the same without you here. After you were gone, we didn’t know what to do. We took turns driving, but none of us liked doing it for long, cause it felt like it was your thing, and you were gone. Ron was barely eating, Glenn would just wander off to play his guitar and wouldn’t talk to anyone, and I… I… I’m still a mess, Darryl. I can’t do this alone. You held us together. If Scam hadn’t shown up and stolen the van, I think we might’ve split up.”

            “What? Split up- how would you even do that? Where would you all go? There’s only one van!”

            “Which we were arguing over when Scam stole it! He said we had to ‘remember what we were looking for’ or something like that, I don’t know. But it was bad. And then we got Erin back, and now Dennis, and it’s been better, but neither of them are you.”

            Now Darryl’s breath hitched, and he quickly covered it in a cough. “O-oh. Shit, Henry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to leave you all like that. I just wanted to save you, and-“

            “I know. I know, Darryl. It’s just been hard. I don’t mean to put all this on you. You’re right, we should concentrate on the kids. I just wish you were here with us. This is all kind of scary, and well, any extra help would’ve been nice.”

            Darryl bit his lip. “I… might be able to help? I meant to ask before, but maybe I can do something from here. Just uh, can you give me some time? I need to talk to the Library.”

            “Time? Uh, yeah, it’s going to take a few days to march an army to Ravenloft anyway.” With a relieved sigh, Darryl finished up with some goodbyes and hung up his phone. He wasn’t going back to sleep after that, so he unwrapped his hand, tucked his phone away, pulled his shirt on, and left in search of the Library. He had no idea how he was going to ask for the monster’s help, but he was going to do his best. Grant, and the other dads, were counting on him.

*

            The Library, for once, wasn’t reading in the main hall. The day was dawning bright and sunny, and the Library decided to sit out in the garden to read for a while. He was using one of Darryl’s newly leveled chairs, and it was a comfortable enough sit. He was also sort of hoping Darryl would decide to work in the garden again that day. He had seen a glimpse of him sweating in the heat when he had called him in to start dinner the day before, and he wouldn’t be opposed to a longer look. He may as well entertain himself that way. With the village still being rebuilt he couldn’t peddle his books there, and he still couldn’t leave his pet alone for a longer journey yet, so if he got bored of reading (a rarity but it DID happen), teasing Darryl was the next best thing. The Library hadn’t bothered checking in with Darryl yet that morning, given that his pet usually didn’t bother getting up until the sun had climbed halfway up the sky. When he heard the main hall door opening into the courtyard and smelled that tell-tale musk (he really should enforce Darryl to use his sponges and basin more often), the Library was obviously interested.

            “Darryl! What an unexpected surprise!” The Library painted his largest grin on his face and turned his head nearly one hundred and eighty degrees to face his pet. To Darryl’s credit, he only flinched minutely at his master’s display of body horror, and returned to a very serious expression indeed. It was enough to make the Library’s grin falter slightly. “Uh, something on your mind, hot stuff?” Darryl sighed, crossing the distance between them and circling around to the Library’s front without speaking. The Library’s head followed his movements precisely, more curious with every second. “Alright, let me guess. You broke something?” The Library asked, drumming his fingers on the cover of his book.

            “No, nothing’s broken.” Darryl made an adorably confused look. “I need-“

            “More food?” The Library’s eyes brightened at his own answer. That would make the most sense, after all. “Of course, we are nearly out of usable Minotaur, aren’t we? I suppose I can go hunting for something to restock the larder with, but you’ll have to wait on more vegetables I’m afraid.”

            “What? No, I don’t need- well, actually, yeah, we are kind of running out of food.” Darryl shook his head. “But that’s not what I need. I need you to-“

            The Library’s pulse quickened, his smile springing back onto his face. “Oh, are you looking for some morning delight, perchance? That can be arranged!” The Library was about to spring to his feet, but stopped when Darryl’s face flushed red and the man practically fell forward grabbing the Library’s shoulders to force him back down in his chair. The Library pouted, but assumed he was wrong again. “Now hang on a minute, I’m sure I can guess this.”

            “IneedyoutohelpmesaveGrant!”

             The Library blinked slowly. “Uh, can you run that by me again?”

            Darryl let out a long breath and turned his gaze from one of the Library’s black eyes to the other. The Library wasn’t sure exactly what the man was looking for, but he clearly didn’t find it. With a look of defeat, he made to drop his hands, but the Library quickly caught them before Darryl could pull away completely. The man looked at their joined hands awkwardly for a silent moment before finally trying again. “I need you to help me save Grant.”

            “Your son?” The Library blinked. “Didn’t you already do that? Wasn’t that what that whole, uh, Four Knights thing was about?”

            “Yeah, uh, we saved him from that, but then he got kidnapped by the purple robe guys, like all the other kids?”

            “Oh yes, I think I remember you mentioning that at some point.” The Library tapped his chin with one of his free hands. “Do you even know where to start looking for them?”

            “They’re at Castle Ravenloft.”

            The Library whistled. “Oh, wow, that’s- oh hold on, did you tell me that already? I swear I knew that, too.”

            “Well, obviously you wouldn’t find it important,” Darryl grumbled, trying to pull his hands free. The Library scoffed and yanked Darryl forward into his lap. The man yelped and struggled, but the Library’s many limbs did their work to ensure he was left straddling the Library’s thighs, his bright red face close enough to lick even if the Library had a human tongue.

            “Now Darryl, while I personally have no emotional investment in your son, I know that he is important to you. What, exactly, did you want me to do to help? Did you want some books? I could probably find you some that could help your friends out. I guess I could check to see if your cell phone’s still in my guts too, so you can even tell them what you find.”

            “Huh? No, I have my phone.”

            “What? You’ve had your phone all this time?”

            “Yes?”

            “And you haven’t been using it to call for help?”

            “Oh, uh, I’ve been… distracted.”

            The Library felt another grin coming on, and felt a stirring in his trousers. “Oh, distracted, you say? I wonder what may have been distracting you?”

            “Woah, what the fuck?!” Darryl tried to scramble off the Library’s lap again, only to be held down more firmly by his shoulders. “You’re CROTCH is SQUIRMING, what the hell is that?!”

            “Hmm, would you like to find out?” The Library asked, his voice turning a low and breathless as he stirred again. He leaned in to press his forehead to Darryl’s, and was delighted to note that the man was in fact rocking against him. Not very much, and it may have been from discomfort, but it still felt very nice.

            “No, fuck,” Darryl whimpered when the Library began to bounce his legs a bit to increase the friction between them. Darryl groaned and his forehead leaned harder against the Library’s, resting there as he started to lose some control. It seemed, however, that in this he would not be entirely distracted. “I-I want more than books. I mean, the books m-might help too, I dunno, but th-the guys are taking a mercenary army to find the kids and I-I need to save Grant. I need to go, too.”

            The Library rolled his eyes and pressed his lips over Darryl’s to quiet him. It was testament to the Library’s unusually dexterous genitals that Darryl couldn’t find the will to pull away from the kiss. He didn’t even need to wind his fingers into Darryl’s hair to hold him there, but he did it anyway, because Darryl’s thick, curly hair felt exquisite to run his hands through. Darryl was also very pleasant to kiss. He had only given Darryl anything close to a proper kiss once before, and the Library found the soft lips contrasted with the scratch of his beard rather exciting. He certainly wanted to feel it on other parts of him too, once he had successfully coaxed his pet into such things. Today may even be the day, seeing as the Library was certain that Darryl’s protesting noises were petering off into moans. Especially as the Library poked a bit of his tongue out to scrape along Darryl’s lips, asking entrance. He knew for certain that Darryl had lost coherency when he actually parted them, letting the Library’s tongue flood into his mouth, cutting into its corners and getting that delicious blood flowing. Darryl’s cry of shock was swallowed effortlessly, and the Library’s eyes rolled back into his head as he bucked harder against Darryl’s groin. Heat began to flood through his limbs, and more of them wrapped themselves around his pet, pulling him down as firmly as possible as the monster began to rut in a frenzy. He was losing control. Even his tongue loosened from Darryl’s mouth and fell to bounce between them, leaving Darryl’s voice free again. Not that he had anything astute to say, it was mainly swearing, but it was the thought that counted. Really, the most important thing Darryl announced was that he was going to come, and that really only served to help drive the Library closer to his own climax. The damp patch soaking through Darryl’s shorts was enough to push the Library over the edge. Darryl descended into incoherent babbling as the Library’s clothed bulge writhed beneath him, overstimulating his tender spots for a good minute before quelling.

            The two sat in the chair, both panting in the hot sun. Darryl slumped and rested his head on the Library’s shoulder, and the Library’s eyes idly wandered to the dark sunburn decorating the back of Darryl’s neck. That had been fun, but as both came down from their shared high, the Library found himself mulling over Darryl’s request. “I don’t really feel comfortable letting you go off to storm a castle, even if you’re flanked by a mercenary army.” The Library kept a firm hand on Darryl’s back, stopping the man’s attempt to sit up from his slumped state and smirked at the subsequent subdued sigh.

            “I know, that’s why I wanted you to come with me.”

            The Library’s jaw hung slack, and he pushed Darryl backward to search his face for intention. The man seemed tired and spent, as should be expected, but he didn’t lack any sincerity for it. “You want me to go with you to save your son?”

            “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not like we’d be going alone, either. There’s the other dads, the mercenary army, Erin O’Neil’s gonna be there, some guy named Dennis, Paeden might be there… I mean, he’s like, eight, but he’s a tough kid and he’s pretty scrappy. He’ll probably show up even if Henry says no.”

            The Library huffed out a breath and screwed up his face in thought. He definitely wanted to encourage Darryl coming to him for help. That was infinitely better than having him try to handle something like this on his own, or trying another ill-advised escape attempt. He would prefer if his pet took more of a back seat in this adventure, doing a research role perhaps, but who was he kidding? Darryl wasn’t a scholar. He didn’t enjoy reading, as much as it hurt the Library to acknowledge that. He was a fighter, and his son was kidnapped. Sooner or later, he would try to reunite with his progeny, and he was probably going to get hurt doing it. It would be better if the Library was there to supervise him, and to direct him safely back home after he got his kid. Though, that would leave the Library with some kid he didn’t know running around. He didn’t pay too much attention to Grant when he was checking in with the dads during their Four Knights adventure. From what he remembered, the boy seemed to be more of a strategist than his father, but that was as far as he could recall. It was possible the boy might have the same delicious taste as his father, but he suspected that if he tried to eat any part of Grant, Darryl would lose all of the trust he had placed in the Library, and he would be unlikely to regain it. Well, it was also possible that Darryl would be happy enough to send his son back to his own world, thereby freeing himself of all responsibilities outside of his duties to his master, which would be ideal.

            “Alright, I’ll help you with rescuing your son,” the Library said finally, holding a finger to Darryl’s lips the second he opened them. “But there will be conditions.”

            “Conditions?” Darryl balked.

            “Yes. For one,” the Library held up one finger for emphasis, “You have to swear to me that once we get your son, you will return to the castle with me, without complaint.”

            “Okay, I mean, I kind of figured you’d want that.”

            “Uh huh, and two,” the Library held up a second finger, “You will not put your life in unnecessary danger. No trying to sacrifice your life to save anyone else. If you do, you had better succeed, because I will certainly make you wish you were dead by the time I’m done with you.”

            Darryl swallowed, hard. “That… I can accept that, but if it comes down to me or Grant… I’m gonna pick Grant every time.” He paused for a second. “Or Paeden. I’d also take a bullet for him. He’s a good kid.” There was another pause. “Or any of the kids… I’m not going to let any of the kids get hurt.”

            “You are not making me feel better about letting you do this, you know.”

            “Or the other dads.”

            “I’m starting to sense that I’m not going to threaten you out of being a self-sacrificing idiot.”

            “Yeah, probably not.”

            “Fair enough,” the Library sighed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll amend that. How about you swear to stay in my sight. That should mean I’ll be able to save you before you beef it, anyway.”

            “How can I even be out of your sight when you have an eye on my hand?”

            “Excellent question, Darryl! I don’t know what kind of warding magic they’re going to be using, so it’s important to have my bases covered. Anyway, as useful as having your hand and foot under my direct employ is, I can do a lot more in person.”

            “Okay, fair enough, we stick together.” Darryl chuckled a little, leaning back into the Library’s grip. “Honestly, I’m kind of feeling pretty confident right now. After seeing what you can actually do, having you on our side? The kids are as good as saved!”

            The Library smiled indulgently, letting Darryl crow about his upcoming victory and allowed him to get up at last so he could hurry off to tell the other dads the good news on his phone. The Library, however, did not feel quite as assured. It was true that the Library was very powerful, and a mercenary army could only be an asset, but he knew that Castle Ravenloft had more than men defending it. Whoever these purple robes were, they were most likely the powerful mages that had decked the castle out in more warding spells than the Library could comfortably count. The whole place was practically unplottable if you didn’t have a guide (or the ability to sense the subtle signs of environmental magic), and that spoke of a great power that lay within. It took a lot of specialized knowledge to kill the Library, but it took rather less to incapacitate him, and it was possible these purple robes possessed such knowledge. It was a high risk situation, but if they succeeded, Darryl would certainly be indebted to him. Surely this, if nothing else, would be enough to secure his pet’s loyalty to him, and then they could start having some real fun. The Library’s thoughts drifted into fantasies of exactly how Darryl could express his gratitude to him, and these were entertaining enough that it was past noon by the time he realized he had dropped his book on the ground, nearly breaking its spine. It was only then, as he moaned over the damaged book and fretted over the trouble it would be to properly mend it that the Library began to think that maybe his little crush on his pet might be going too far. He was glad Scam wasn’t anywhere around, or he’d never hear the end of this.

            A cheerful voice broke across the courtyard from just inside the front gate. “Howdy cousin! I was just in the neighborhood, thought I’d check in, see how Darryl was recovering from his little escapade. So, you’re helping to raid Castle Ravenloft, hmm? Guess we have something in common! Uh, Library? Hey now, wait a minute! No need to break out the whole nine foot monster form around me! W-we’re family! Aw come on, it was just a joke! IT WAS JUST A JOKE! AH! DARRYL! DARRYL, COME STOP YOUR BOYFRIEND! EEK!”

            When Darryl poked his head outside a short time later to see the Library pinning Scam to the ground and horking acidic spitballs in his face, he could at least say he had the good sense to shut the door again and leave a family matter alone.

Chapter 12: Drive

Summary:

Road trip to Ravenloft! Everybody in the van!

Notes:

I do love me some of that good good vore. Also I have put more dumb ships in this story I'm a monster fucking slob idfk. Also I'm kind of cherry-picking canon rn. I'm gonna be doing my own resolution. Paeden's true identity is in the air for me atm but the anchors are a big no go, I'm not writing this fic forever waiting for Anthony to stop making fetch quests.

12 Drive

             “I cannot believe you both convinced me to do this. We could’ve walked! I like walking! I could’ve just carried Darryl.” The Library sounded grumpy as he, Darryl, and Scam (still wearing Glenn’s face) stood at the side of a dirt road about a hundred yards from the castle. Scam was talking salaciously into a rock, which Darryl had come to understand was his makeshift cell phone. He had no idea how it worked, though it was probably magical. Darryl was fidgeting, running his fingers over his own cell phone tucked into his pocket. He frequently stepped out onto the road and craned his neck as though that would help him see further down it.

            “If we walked we’d get there too late. There’s nothing wrong with calling in a ride!” Scam said loudly, covering his rock with one hand and shooting his cousin a condescending smirk. The acidic spitballs had smeared Glenn’s handsome features, but after a rather nauseating display of skin-shedding, he looked as good as new. Scam didn’t wait for a response before going back to talking into his rock. “Go, Glenn, go! How many marshmallows does he have in his mouth now, Ma- Dennis? And don’t you try scamming me on this, you’re going to pay up fair and square when he makes it to twenty! Oh. Oh shit, really? Uuuuh, double or nothing?”

            The Library grumbled and grabbed Darryl’s shirt to yank him back from the road. Since it was the third time he’d had to stop Darryl from wandering off, he pulled the dad all the way up against his side and held him there. “Running up and down the street won’t get them here any faster, Darryl.”

            “I just don’t want to miss them! Or for them to miss us! For your information, it’s easier to see a moving thing than a stationary thing, and so moving around would be uh… oh fuck off.” Darryl sulked in the Library’s grip when he couldn’t come up with a good enough argument for his actions. But he didn’t struggle to escape, so the monster counted it as a small victory.

            “I think the more pressing issue is going to be how we’re all going to fit into that little van of yours. I mean, I can scrunch down quite a bit, but there’s going to be a lot of us in there. What to do, what to do…” The Library tapped the corner of his mouth suggestively, but Darryl seemed oblivious to his meaning.

            “Well, with the back seat gone, we should actually be able to fit more people in than usual. And worse comes worse, someone can sit in someone else’s lap. We do that all the time.” Darryl shrugged.

            “Oh! You should’ve said so sooner! I’m all for cuddling.” The Library squeezed Darryl’s ass, ignoring his yelp of protest. “Maybe this isn’t one of your dumb-dumb ideas after all!”

            Scam was starting to sound more disappointed as he continued to talk into his rock. “Oh, well, fuck. So how much will I-? Yeah. Yeah alright, fine. I suppose if he did his best then I can’t- he’s what? Well, can’t you just hit him on the back? Surely Henry could- driving away from trolls you say? What? What is Ron saying? The what? Hemlock remover? Oh!” Scam looked at Darryl and the Library with a raised eyebrow. “Do the words ‘Heimlich Maneuver’ mean anything to you?”

            Teenage lifeguard training tickled the back of Darryl’s mind, and he held out his hand with a sigh. “Gimmie the rock, Scam.” Just as Scam moved to do that, however, there was a loud honking noise and all three of them stepped onto the road and craned their necks to see the shining body of Odyssey-san cresting around a bend of trees, barreling toward them at high speed. Behind it were four particularly lumpy grey trolls, all keeping pace with the car and wielding various farming implements.

            “Oh, shit!” Darryl scrambled for the rock and nearly dropped it before pressing it to his ear. “Hey, it’s Darryl! Who’s this?”

            “Oh, nice to meet you, Darryl! I’m Dennis Anderson! I’m a thirst trap, fire-fighter dad. I enjoy six AM yoga classes where widows flirt with me, and I’m searching for my son Ulysses, whom I sired from my now-deceased wife, Miranda!”

            “That’s a bit more information than I needed there, buddy.”

            “Well, I don’t want anyone to think I’m not a fully developed person who is definitely real and has always existed.”

            “O-kay.” Darryl quickly decided to address that weirdness later. “So, we can see you guys, uh, what’s with the trolls?”

            There was some scuffling noises in the background of the call, and Darryl thought he could hear Ron yelling something, but Dennis was still the one to answer him. “Oh, Henry got a little distracted and drove through a field of pumpkins. Turned out these trolls owned that field, and they’re all pretty angry. Henry tried to pay them for the pumpkins, but they don’t speak Common or Druid, so they just tried to kill us! They’ve followed us for about ten miles now, I think?”

            “Ten miles?! Jesus.” The car was now aimed directly at them, and the Library yanked Darryl and Scam backwards just in time for the car to blow right by them. The trolls were hot on its tail. They didn’t even spare the pedestrians a passing glance. “Hey, you drove right by us!”

            “Yeah, I told Henry that, but he’s just yelling now.” Sure enough, the familiar sound of Henry’s not-swears was loud in the background. “Also, Glenn’s still choking on marshmallows and I don’t know what to do about that.”

            “Didn’t you say you were a fire fighter? I thought fire fighters had to know CPR, and the Heimlich Maneuver too, probably?”

            “Uuuuuh, not in the Forgotten Realms?”

            “Seems like kind of an oversight, huh?”

            “Yeah, I’ll talk to the uh, Guild of Fire Fighters to change up our training program. What do I do for now, though?” There was a pause as Darryl heard a loud thunk and crunch, his eyes fixed on the van in horror as one of the trolls drove its over sized pitchfork into the back of it. “Oh never mind, Glenn just horked it out.”

            “My van!” Darryl cried out in distress as Henry pulled a tight u-turn and started heading back toward them again, this time with a pitchfork sticking out of the back bumper.

            “Uh, you gonna do something about them, cousin?” Scam asked sweetly as the van (and trolls) drew close again.

            “Why don’t you do something, since this was your idea?” the Library replied just as sweetly.

            “Oh I would, but you know, you were always the fighter. I was always more the lover~! Though you seem to be stealing both titles these days, you naughty boy.”

            “Oh thank you for that vote of confidence, dear cousin.” The Library let out a long hiss between his teeth. “Watch my pet, will you?” The Library pushed Darryl toward Scam Likely and then readied himself in a crouch as the van drew closer. The second it passed, the Library leapt forward and tackled the trolls, managing to knock all four to the ground at once. Darryl watched the Library rip into their flesh with wild abandon, guts and sinew spraying everywhere as arteries were severed, throats were slit, and violent disemboweling was experienced by all. It was traumatic to witness, of course, but Darryl couldn’t look away. To be fair, he was already pretty traumatized by most of his experiences involving the Library, so this was rather par for the course by this point.

            “Darryl? Hello?”

            “Ron?” Darryl asked, rather absently as he was still rather fixated on the carnage before him. “What happened to Dennis?”

            “Um, he’s busy trying to stop Erin from murdering Glenn. Darryl, I have something to tell-”

            “Uh, why is Erin trying to murder Glenn?”

            “Hold on, let me check.” There was a pause. “Hi, Erin? Um, sorry to interrupt you from killing my good friend Glenn here with those lovely vines around his neck, but uh, Darryl would like to know why you are doing that, exactly? Also, uh, I couldn’t help but notice that Dennis’s stomach is right there in the open next to me. I can stab him a little for you, if you think that would help you out?” Erin yelled something in the background, but one of the trolls started yelling as well and was trying to rip one of the Library’s limbs off, so Darryl missed it. “Oh okay. Oh. I see. Um, if you could stop kissing Dennis for a moment, I would still like to know more about the whole Glenn situation? Uh huh? Yeah, okay I’ll let him know. Um, Darryl? Hi, it’s Ron again. So Erin says that Glenn said-“

            “Ron, it’s fine, I don’t really care that much. The trolls are, um, gone.” Darryl winced as the Library threw back his head to swallow down the last screaming troll head-first, not unlike that owl with a mouse in that one viral video Carol had shown him. “So can you tell Henry to turn the van around and get back here to pick us up?”

            “What? Oh, um, I suppose I can do that, Darryl.” Ron paused, and then his voice became more distant. “Hello, Henry? This is Ron here, speaking on behalf of one Darryl Wilson, who is NOT dead, as we established? Oh, okay! I’ll tell him.” Ron’s voice was louder again. “Henry says hi.”

            “Hi, Henry.”

            “Darryl says hi back.” There was a pause, Darryl couldn’t make out Henry’s response, but Ron did relay Darryl’s request before his voice abruptly lowered into a whisper. “Darryl, um, I need to tell you something important about Dennis.”

            “Dennis? What’s wrong with Dennis?” Darryl asked, only to be cut off as the rock was snatched from his hand. “Hey! That’s rude!”

            “Sorry, bad connection!” Scam grinned widely and pressed the rock to his ear. “Hello, Ron! Got something important to say, hmm? Uh huh. Uh huh? Uh huh. Wow. Oooh, and you figured that out all on your own, hmmmmmmm? Uh huh. Oh that’s cute. Oops, I’m about to walk into a meeting! Yes. Uh huh. Yep! Got. To. GO!” Scam then abruptly threw the rock far into the woods behind him just as the van pulled up in front of them. At long last, Darryl would be reunited with his fatherly brethren. He locked eyes with Henry first, mainly because the driver’s window wasn’t tinted, and was on the side closest to him. The hippie druid nature dad was already openly weeping, and within seconds he was tearing off his seat belt and flinging his door open. It only took two fluid skips for Darryl to know where this was going, and he opened his arms just as Henry leapt into the air and tackled him in a hug reminiscent of an octopus devouring a clam. His arms were locked around Darryl’s neck and his legs locked around Darryl’s waist as he peppered the barbarian’s face in wet kisses.

            Darryl laughed as he easily spun Henry in a circle. He wasn’t too heavy, so it was fun. “Okay, okay, I get it! You missed me!”

            “Oh Darryl, you have NO IDEA what it’s been like dealing with these clowns without you. Glenn’s openly antagonizing Erin, and Ron doesn’t like Dennis, and Erin hates eating vegetables, and Dennis-! Well, actually Dennis is fine, but it’s still been pretty rough.” Henry spoke into the crook of Darryl’s neck while Darryl looked at the Library’s unreadable face over Henry’s shoulder and gave a helpless shrug. The driver’s side back door slid open next, and Glenn and Ron tumbled down on top of each other, both trying to be the first one out. True to Scam’s word, Ron was entirely pants-less, and the gleam from his stark white legs was dazzling. Once they were properly in front of Darryl, however, their tussle was forgotten in the rush to join the love fest.

            “Alright! Band’s back together!” Glenn cheered as he leapt onto Darryl’s back and tussled his hair. “How’ve you been, man?”

            “Glenn! Good to see you, man!” Darryl laughed, trying to cover up how close his knees were to giving out.

            “Hello, Darryl. Uh, can I join the dad huggle as well, or is this one of those real-dads-only huggles?”

            Darryl sighed as Henry continued sobbing into his shirt. “Ron, you are a real dad, but please don’t jump on me, cause- NO, RON!” But Ron required no further permission before doing his signature rogueish leap and landing full bodied atop Darryl’s head. This action immediately knocked the dad huggle off balance, and teetered them into a hard fall on the forest floor. They lay in a dazed pile as Erin O’Neil opened the back hatch of the van and walked over to them, appearing severely unimpressed.

            “Having fun, are we?”

            “Hey Erin, good to see you, too.” Darryl managed to make himself heard from where his face was buried in Ron’s tummy.

            “Hi, Darryl. Uh, thanks for saving me from getting killed by the Library by sacrificing yourself. That was pretty cool, I guess. I uh, I wasn’t going to come along to help siege Ravenloft since that place is pretty anti-nature magic, but I think I might actually owe you a life debt? So yeah, I guess I’m helping too." Erin scratched the back of her head as Darryl immediately grinned with elation.

            “Oh that’s nice- you’re welcome! Hear that, guys? Erin just THANKED me for bravely sacrificing myself to save your sorry asses! You know it’s nice to have someone actually APPRECIATE that for once!” Darryl sat up, letting Ron roll down his torso to lay in his lap, looking up at him with wide eyes.

            “Oh, uh, I’m pretty sure I already thanked you for your service, though? Remember? When you said you were going to do that, and I thanked you for your service?”

            “Oh yeah, sorry. I forgot about that. You’re welcome too, Ron.”

            “Thank you, Darryl. I just want to feel appreciated for the things I do for you, you know.”

            “Yes Ron, thank you, Ron.”

            “You’re welcome, Darryl.”

            Darryl turned a stink eye on Henry, who held up his hands to show no ill-will. “You’re right, I’m sorry Darryl. I was too caught up in how frustrated I was, trying to get by without you, and I didn’t stop to really appreciate the intention behind your actions. So, I’m sure we can all thank you for trying to save us by sacrificing yourself. I still think it was short-sighted of you given the perceived consequences, but we were all pretty stressed out at the time, and you did the best you could.”

            “I accept your apology, thank you Henry.” Darryl looked at Glenn next, who shrugged.

            “Man, I didn’t tell you to get eaten for me, that’s on you.”

            Darryl opened his mouth to rant some more, but Erin cut him off. “Okay, geez, none of that matters, okay? Don’t you guys have to save your sons or something?”

            “Right! Erin’s right!” Darryl amended, getting to his feet and helping Ron and Henry up with him.

            “Hey, what about me?” Glenn asked, holding up a hand from the ground.

            “Hey, I didn’t put you down there. That’s on you.”

            “That’s cold, dude.” Glenn shook his head. “But I got this. Dennis!”

            “Yeah?” Darryl turned back to the van to finally see Dennis Anderson in person. His jaw dropped. Thirst-trap was an understatement. This guy was tall, shredded, and had the most chiseled jaw-line that Darryl had ever seen. It was hard to look away. His eyes hurt, it was like looking into the sun. Darryl never felt more inadequate as a man than he did in the presence of this actual demigod called Dennis Anderson.

            “Help!” Glenn smiled cheekily from the ground, now waving both hands in the air. Dennis sighed, but gave a good-natured grin as he somehow jogged in slow motion like a Baywatch lifeguard. His pecks were leisurely bouncing as he sidled up beside Glenn and hooked his hands under the bard’s armpits, pulling him up and onto his feet again. “Thanks, buddy!”

            “You got it, buddy!” Dennis laughed, a hearty sound. He gave Glenn a smack on the butt before jogging back over to the van, giving everyone a view of his own well-toned arse. Erin’s nose started bleeding, but she was too mesmerized to either notice or care. When Darryl tore his eyes away to look at Glenn, the bard only looked delighted as he clearly mouthed the words ‘I know, right?’

            The love fest was interrupted by someone leaning hard on Odyssey-san’s horn. “Alright, fun as this is, can we go?” Scam asked loudly from the driver’s seat.

            “Hey! Wha- Scam! Quit wearing my face, man! That’s my brand!” Glenn demanded, shaking a fist as he marched over the van. Dennis had already gotten back into the passenger’s seat.

            “Hmm, nope, I like it. Think I’m gonna keep it indefinitely. Unless you commit some kind of horrific crime that would make having your face dangerous, of course.”

            “Don’t challenge me, man, I’ll do it! I’m not afraid of crimes!”

            “Oooh, why don’t you tell me all about it, stud?” Scam batted his eyes flirtatiously, and Glenn blushed even as he began sputtering in rage.

            “Dude, d-don’t make my face do that, it’s weird!”

            “Yoo hoo! We’re getting in the back now, yes? Come along, Darryl!” The Library, in the commotion, had climbed into the large empty space in the back of the van and was patting his lap with enthusiastic invitation.

            “Oh, uh, gee, I really would get on back there with you, Library. But, uh, you know this IS my van, and it would just kind of feel weird to be in it but not driving it, you know?” Darryl edged closer to the front of the van. “I don’t want to make this awkward, but uh, could you get out of my seat, Scam?”

            “No need to be shy! Get back there and sit on your master’s lap, little doggie!” Scam laughed, making a shooing motion.

            “Okay!”

            “No, Ron, he meant me!” Darryl said in exasperation as Ron hopped agreeably into the back and immediately sat on the Library’s lap.

            “No, this won’t do at all.” The Library made a face as he quickly pushed Ron off of his lap and as far away from him as the space in the back of the van would allow.

            “But Scam said ‘little doggie’, um, and of everyone here, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one to have put that tagline on my business cards in the past.”

            “You put that on your business cards, dude?”

            “Yes, Glenn. When I first met my wife, Samantha, who is very attractive, I presented her with a bone shaped business card that read ‘Ron Schnauzer, Little Doggie Looking For Love.”

            “Someone please explain to me why Ron has a better relationship with his spouse than I do?” Darryl asked the void, but the void did not answer.

            “Darryl, just get in the back?” Dennis tried, his eyes pleading with the open charisma of the archangel Gabriel. “We really have to save our kids from these purple robed men before something bad happens to them, you know?”

            Damn it, how could Dennis have such a beautiful, charismatic face? Darryl sighed. “Alright, Dennis. There’s no way I’d give in to anyone else, but if you ask? Man, I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

            “I appreciate that, buddy.” Dennis gave Darryl a blinding smile. And so, as Henry and Glenn buckled into the middle seats and Ron curled into the corner where the Library shoved him, Darryl climbed into the back of the van and lowered the hatch.

            “Come on Darryl, you don’t want to make me angry for no reason, do you?” The Library hedged, patting his lap again.

            “Come on Darryl, the van’s not moving until everyone’s seated and secured!” Scam sang from the driver’s seat. Darryl let out the longest sigh he had yet, and with the most put upon look he could manage, he crawled over and sat squarely in the Library’s lap, ramrod straight with his arms crossed.

            “Here we go!” Scam laughed again, wildly, and slammed down on the gas. The tires squealed, but they didn’t move. “Huh? Why didn’t that work?”

            “You have to take the parking break off,” Henry filled in helpfully. Darryl moaned in despair as Scam had to be shown where the parking break was, and then took off driving so abruptly that Darryl was flung to the side, only stopped by the Library’s limbs catching him and pulling him back into a tight hug against his chest. Ron did not have a monster to catch him, and so skidded over the floor of the van.

            “Hang on a second, aren’t we missing someone?” Ron asked from where he landed, which was on the floor of the van with his butt pressed into the back door and his legs straight up in the air.

            “Oh shit, we forgot Erin!” Henry exclaimed. Darryl peered out the back of the van. Sure enough, Erin stood in the dirt, jumping up and down and shouting after them.

            “Drive faster, Scam!” Glenn goaded.

            “You should go back for Erin,” Dennis said, poking Scam in the side.

            “Why should I do that, Dennis?”

            “Well, for one thing, she’s very hot and into me.”

            “Into Dennis you mean.”

            “And I am Dennis.”

            “Phht, make out with someone else, little bro. You know witches cause trouble.”

            “Hm, I guess I could always make out with Glenn, instead.” Dennis turned in his seat to wink at Glenn, who winked back and shot him double finger guns.

            “You know, I really hate you, sometimes,” Scam muttered, doing a donut before heading back to Erin.

*

            Even in the van, Castle Ravenloft was a long way off. According to Glenn, they had planned to meet up with their mercenary army at the castle to throw off suspicion, (apparently Paeden was doing an internship with the army, so they'd meet up with him as well), so it would be about two days before the eight people trapped in the van together would have a chance to get out of each other’s company. Things weren’t so bad for the first five hours. Erin seemed to be pacified by Henry’s apology for leaving her, and curled up in the back of the van to nap. Ron was humming a little tune while looking out the back window, though he kept shooting Darryl worried faces here and there. Glenn and Henry were having some kind of hushed conversation with Dennis and Scam, which was apparently hilarious if Glenn’s frequent laughter was anything to go by. The Library had pulled out one of his books (he had gathered up all his books and shoved them down his throat before he had left) and was absently stroking Darryl’s stomach under his shirt while he read. Darryl would like to have claimed this disgusted him, but actually it was pretty soothing, and felt good in a way he decided to remain purposely ignorant of. He was falling into a doze when Odyssey-san whined and slowed under them again.

            Scam let out a loud sound of frustration. “I can’t believe you have to refuel this thing every hour. Couldn’t you get a more efficient fuel source?”

            “Hey babe, compliments are free! Can’t get more efficient than that!” Glenn threw the horns as he kicked open his door and headed over to the gas tank to whisper sweet nothings in Japanese.

            “Uh, can I use the little Ron’s room?” Ron asked, raising his hand politely so Scam could see him in the rear view mirror.

            “Oh lemme thi-, how ‘bout no?” Scam taunted, but Henry came to the rescue.

            “Actually, I think I need to use the little Henry’s room, too.”

            “Hey guys, I’m gonna take a leak while I’m out here!” Glenn called from outside.

            “Actually, now that you mention it, I could go too,” Darryl admitted, swearing when the Library suddenly pressed down on his bladder. “Quit it! Do you want me to pee on you?”

            “Ew, what? No.” The Library grimaced. “I just thought you were lying.”

            “What? Why would I be lying?”

            “I don’t know, it seemed a bit strange you’d all have to pee at the same time. Is that normal in your world? Everyone pees at the same time?”

            “Maybe because we’ve spent so much time together, we’ve synced up?” Henry said thoughtfully.

            “I’m not discussing our pee cycles syncing up, Henry!” Darryl pleaded, wiggling in the Library’s grip until the monster relented and let him hurry after Ron. Ron had already gotten the hatch open and had managed to climb over Erin without waking her, the sneaky fucker that he was. Darryl managed to reach the treeline beside the road and was mid-stream behind a bush when there was a loud hiss that came from the tree above.

            “Darryl! Psst, Darryl!” Darryl looked up to see Ron staring down at him from a tree branch, as unsettling as an owl in the daytime.

            “Ron? What the fuck? Stop watching me piss, man!”

            “What? Oh, sorry, I didn’t notice that. Although now that I have, I notice that you’ve taken your pants off? I have some questions. The first question I have is, did Scam curse you to be unable to wear pants while you pee?”

            “No, Ron, he didn’t.”

            “Oh. Well, that’s good then. He cursed me to not wear pants ever again, so I thought if he only made it so you had to take your pants off to pee, that would have been kind of unfair.”

            “I just don’t like to wear pants when I pee, Ron!”

            “Oh. How come?”

            “Cause I don’t like having my ankles seven inches apart when I pee! I’m sorry if you have something against freedom, but- I don’t have to explain this to you. Why are you talking to me, anyway? I thought you had to use the little Ron’s room!”

            “I did that already earlier. I was hoping you would follow me so I could warn you about Dennis.”

            “Warn me?” Darryl finished his pee, and reached for his pants. “Dennis seems like a perfectly nice guy.”

            “When we first met him, he made everyone think he had been there the whole time!”

            “Huh? What are you talking about?”

            “When Dennis first showed up in Ballsdeep, everyone acted like he was always there, but he WASN’T, okay?! They thought he was you! Only not really, uh, they acted like the van was his, and that Ulysses was in the Four Knights game instead of your kid, whatever his name is, and it was all wrong!”

            A sense of unease settled over Darryl. “What? But, why do Glenn and Henry trust him now, if he did that?”

            “They don’t remember! I don’t know why, but when you called me, both of them suddenly remembered you again. And that was great, but then they were saying that we had met Dennis in Ballsdeep and he volunteered to be on our team. And they thought that he was just this other dad that also came through a portal like we did? But frankly, um, I don’t think that makes a lot of sense. Because if portals to our world were that common, we’d have found another one, I’d wager. And he said the purple robes took his kid too, but they never mentioned anything about other dads before! And not even Glenn was suspicious of him, and Glenn’s suspicious of everything!”

            “That’s true, Glenn IS suspicious of everything…” Darryl trailed off and nibbled on his lip. However, the more he dwelt on the concept of Dennis in his mind, the less he found he could take Ron seriously. “Aw, come on Ron. Dennis is a nice guy. He’s helping us out.”

            “But, Darryl!”

            “I’m done Ron, I’ll see you back at the car. You should at least try to pee, I don’t know when Scam’s going to stop again.”

            “Why are we even trusting Scam?!” Ron asked frantically as Darryl walked away. “I-I know I trusted him before, he is a very charming person. But we’re letting him drive the van to a place where we don’t know where it is, uh, that we’re going? How do we know he’s even- Darryl!” But Darryl could only barely hear Ron over the soothing mental image of Dennis’s rippling biceps.

*

            The Library sat watching Darryl stand half behind a bush, clearly talking to someone up in the tree, and was getting more and more tempted to listen in. However, because Darryl tended to aim with his left hand, the Library was very reluctant to feel as though any part of him (particularly one of his eyes) was that close to flowing urine. Erin let out a snore and turned over in her sleep, while ‘Dennis’ reclined the passenger seat back far enough to grin at the Library upside down.

            “Don’t worry, cousin. Darryl can’t resist my charm, he won’t catch on.”

            “Ooh, yes, your infallible charm.” The Library rolled his eyes. “If your charm is so powerful, why didn’t it work on young Ron, hmm?”

            Dennis shrugged. “He had a super powerful wisdom saving throw? I don’t know. Every once in a while, someone isn’t charmed. I guess I’m not his type.”

            “Oh, and you’re Darryl’s type, hmm?” The Library asked, eyes narrowing.

            “Library, Dennis is almost everyone’s type. I designed him that way!” Dennis grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in your pet. Glenn is way cuter, right Scam?”

            “Why are you dragging me into this? Who says I even care?”

            “Bro, you’ve been wearing his face for weeks. It’s not subtle.”

            “Fine. Stay away from Glenn too, then.”

            “I already told you guys that I’m into the nature witch, why can’t you leave me alone?” Dennis whined, but was saved in that moment by Darryl coming back. Erin woke up long enough to shoot Darryl an odd glance as he returned to the Library’s lap without prompting this time. What progress! The Library pressed a kiss to the back of the dad’s head as a reward. Darryl merely settled into his place and sent a dopey smile at the front seat.

            “Hey Dennis? You’re really pretty, you know that?”

            The Library’s eye twitched, hard. “Mark, you turn that charm off right now.”

            “Phht, fine.” Dennis returned his seat to its full upright position as Scam laughed and the side doors slid open for Henry and Glenn to climb back in. Ron appeared quickly after them, helped into the back by Erin who shot Darryl another odd glance as she closed the back door behind them.

            “Off we go!” Scam announced and they were on the road again. After a moment, Darryl seemed to blink himself back into a more coherent state and stiffened a little in the Library’s arms.

            “Uh, hey, Library?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Um, Scam is taking us to Castle Ravenloft, right?”

            The Library looked down at Darryl as though he had grown an extra head. “Uh, yes? Where else would he be going?”

            “I dunno, Ron just said some stuff. It’s just weird to be trusting that Scam's helping us? He usually has another motive, doesn’t he? I just don’t know if we should be letting him drive, is all.”

            The Library paused for a moment, cocked his head to one side, and then slid his gaze from Darryl to his cousin, who was driving the van with a smug look on his face. The Library raised his voice. “Scam, you are driving to Castle Ravenloft, right?”

            “Yesssss? Why wouldn’t I be?”

            “Well, Darryl said it was weird for us to trust you, and you know what? He’s right. It is weird. What are you up to?”

            “Wow, rude. Look, do you want me to pinky swear we’re going to Ravenloft? I owed the boys a favor after the whole stealing the van thing. Plus I said I’d help Darryl out of the castle, and I’m doing that, too! I’m just squaring debts, no need to get all up in arms over it.”

            “Okay, fine. So we’re going to Ravenloft.” The Library affirmed.

            “Yep!”

            “You promise?”

            “Cross my heart!”

            “Try again dear cousin, I know you don’t have one of those.”

            “You got me!”

            “This is the worst conversation ever,” Glenn cut in. “It’s like being trapped in a room with those two Looney Tunes gophers having an overly polite argument, and I hate everything about it. Looney Tunes sucks, Disney all the way!”

            “Wow, rude!” Scam repeated, more cheerfully this time.

            “If we want to go to Ravenloft, we should’ve turned at that last right,” Erin said loudly from the back.

            “Uh, I know a shortcut?” Scam tried. Immediately four dads, one witch, and his cousin were glaring daggers at him. Dennis’s mouth was twitching. “Alright, fine, we’ll go THE LONG WAY since no one around here has any faith in good ol’ Scam Likely anymore, geez.”

*

            Scam pulled over for the night once it got dark enough and mountainous enough that even the high beams weren’t going to stop them from nearly careening off the edge of a cliff multiple times. They stopped on a little plateau that had just enough space for the van and a small campsite next to it, overlooking a very steep drop into a valley with a skinny little river way down at the bottom. Ron offered to gather wood for a fire, which got him slapped by Erin, so the Library used a spell to set a pile of rocks on fire instead. It had the benefit of not needing to be tended to, but it wasn’t especially hot either, so the group was huddled around it pretty cozily as the temperature fell around them.

            “Well, this is fun!” Henry said with a sunny smile as he held a carrot over the fire on a stick. The other dads, Scam, and Erin were all holding weenies on theirs. “I’ve always loved camping out in nature, and this view is just spectacular! All the starlight, and having the whole gang together again. This is definitely my jam. We should do some campfire songs!”

            “Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to assaulting Castle Ravenloft tomorrow since I’m going to be at a pretty big disadvantage. So I’m not going to be singing anything, thanks.” Erin was sitting apart from the group, and kept giving Dennis weird looks. Dennis kept winking at her and motioning for her to come over to him, but that only served to make Erin more reluctant to get closer. A worry line was gradually deepening on Dennis’s face with every refusal.

            “Well, I wouldn’t mind a little campfire ditty. Perhaps Glenn could serenade us? Since he considered his guitar skills to be more important than saving his son’s life, he may as well make use of them.” Scam batted his eyes at Glenn.

            “Hey! That’s not cool!” Glenn pouted. “You were going to rewrite me into a Linkin Park cover band DJ, dog! If it was just ‘you have to relearn the guitar’ I mean, that would’ve still been harsh, but I might’ve at least considered that! But you went too far!”

            “I mean, I gave up wearing anything but underwear forever for Terry Junior. Doesn’t seem like being a disc jockey would be as bad as that, probably.”

            “And ANYWAY, it wasn’t like I even did anything that bad! We had the whole van to gamble, you were only going to throw out one part of it! I think the odds were in my favor, and we only lost the back seat, so really I just made the van BETTER cause we can sleep in the back easier now! My van back home’s the same way, except I took ALL the seats in the back out! And, AND! Even if we HAD lost the engine, we could’ve probably found some magic to make it run anyway! AND if we couldn’t do THAT, it wouldn’t even matter, because we still got feet! We could’ve still gotten to Ravenloft! It might’ve taken longer, but we could’ve found horses or a dragon or something to ride!”

            Scam blinked. “Holy shit, you’re actually angry.”

            “Yeah I’m angry! It seems like the rest of you guys have been trying to say that I’m not a good dad just because I kept my guitar skills! You can’t support a kid as a DJ! Maybe giving up my guitar skills would’ve been even MORE irresponsible, ever think of that?”

            “I think there’s other reasons you’re an irresponsible father besides that,” Henry muttered.

            Glenn zeroed in on Henry with a crazed gleam in his eye. “What was that? What was that, Henry? Got something to say? Mister My-Favourite-Child-Is-A-Parrot?!” In that moment, the van’s horn started blaring, and everyone stopped to see Ron leaning hard on the steering wheel and staring at everyone. He slowly eased off the horn once he had everyone’s attention.

            “What is it, Ron?” Dennis asked.

            “Um, I just wanted everyone to stop fighting. I don’t like it.”

            “Oh, uh, sorry Ron! We won’t fight anymore!” Henry said sympathetically.

            “You’re just saying that cause you were losing,” Glenn snorted, curling up on himself and taking a big bite from his weenie.

            “So… no campfire tunes?” Scam asked carefully.

            “Not in the mood, man.”

            “Guess I’ll do it, then!” Scam pulled out Glenn’s guitar and started playing with the tuning forks and humming off key.

            “Hey! Don’t mess with those!” Glenn gasped, abandoning his food to tackle Scam and try to wrestle the guitar away. Very quickly the onlookers lost track of who the real Glenn was, the dim light not helping matters any. Darryl had a hard time paying attention to any of this, however, because Darryl had a problem. After a week of blow jobs before cooking, the act of grilling meat had given him a strange Pavlovian response, and he was left awkwardly crossing his legs and trying miserably to think of anything but the wet, hot suction of the Library’s mouth. He was dreading the inevitable moment when someone would notice, and desperately hoped to be able to get his dick under control before they all started heading off to bed. Darryl also suspected that the Library might be well aware of his problem. The Library had declined the weenies, cryptically mentioning that he was very particular about his food while looking meaningfully at Darryl’s bare arms. But, while Darryl slowly munched on his unfortunately phallic-shaped food, he was also assaulted by the Library flashing him an undeniably sultry look every time Darryl glanced at him across the circle (he had settled himself solidly between Henry and Glenn, but was now starting to regret that choice). The Library even went so far as to lick his lips when Scam and Glenn started wrestling on the ground, and that was too much.

            “I gotta go piss! Don’t follow me!” Darryl said into the commotion, and quickly scrambled to his feet. He covered his crotch with his hands and hoped people would think he just had to go really badly, and wasn’t trying to hide the extremely prominent tent he was pitching in his shorts. He fled toward the edge of the cliff behind the van, and quickly unzipped his pants to shove his hand in. He grabbed hold of his length and shuddering in anticipated relief. He began to stroke it fast, trying to think of his wife, even experimenting with visions of Dennis naked, but it was no good. His mind kept returning to the Library’s mouth around him, and he finally gave into it, hoping if he just indulged in thoughts of that tight heat he would be able to come quickly over the side of the cliff and be done with it. But it wasn’t enough. As minutes ticked by Darryl knew he’d be missed soon, and he just couldn’t come. His hand wasn’t enough, no matter how much he spit on it.

           Then he had a crazy thought that he could try calling the Library over to finish him off. He would probably come over if Darryl asked, but it was unlikely he’d be subtle about it. Darryl did NOT want to have that conversation with the other dads. He groaned and edged closer to the van so he could peer around the side of it. Glenn and Scam had stopped fighting, and one of them was panting and holding the guitar up triumphantly while the other was laughing on the ground. It was impossible to tell which was which. Henry and Erin were now arguing about something, a cooked carrot lying sadly on the ground between them while Dennis tried to hold them apart. Ron was nowhere to be seen, but didn’t seem to be in the van, so that was something. The Library was looking right at him. Everyone else was distracted.

            Darryl cleared his throat, locked eyes with the Library, and motioned quickly for him to come over. The Library cocked his head to one side coyly and pointed at himself, mouthing a cocky ‘Who, me?’ Darryl rolled his eyes, gave an exaggerated nod, and motioned again. The Library clasped some of his hands together and used a couple of his other limbs to point at their distracted companions. He mouthed, ‘What should I tell them?’ Darryl held up his hands helplessly and mouthed back, ‘I don’t know!’ And then he motioned again, even faster this time. The Library shrugged, stood up, and stretched.

            “Well, I’m gonna go fuck Darryl behind the van now! Don’t follow me!” The Library announced. Darryl felt his insides wither and die instantly.

            “Huh? Oh, yeah, go check on Darryl.” Henry waved, clearly not paying attention as he dove right back into antagonizing Erin. “Carrots are DELICIOUS, and just cause YOU won’t eat them that doesn’t give you to the right to push your lifestyle onto others!”

            “Uh, what did he say he was going to do to Darryl?” Probably Glenn asked as he tried to get the guitar back into tune.

            “Hmm, I could give you a demonstration if you want!” Probably Scam replied, putting his hands behind his head and enjoying the excellent view he had of the other man’s ass.

            When the Library joined Darryl to crouch in the shadow of the van, he wasted no time in grabbing the man up into his many limbs, pressing their mouths together and teasing him by sucking on his lips. Darryl moaned into his mouth, but pushed him backwards just as fast.  “We’re too close to the group!” Darryl hissed, “Let’s get further away, first!”

            “Hmm, they’re busy. I’m sure they won’t notice us,” the Library breathed, pulling Darryl in again to scrape the tip of his tongue somewhat painfully along his neck. Darryl was already turned on enough that the pain didn’t bother him, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to risk letting the others see him getting off with the guy who held him captive for weeks.

            “No, come on. We can go, uh…”

            “Yeah, there’s not really anywhere else to go.” The Library huffed a hot breath next to Darryl’s ear. “The road’s narrow, and there’s no trees or bushes to hide behind. This is probably the best cover we’re going to get, if you really want to do this here.”

            “Y-yeah, you’re probably right,” Darryl admitted as the Library started to unzip his cargo shorts, and Darryl’s heart started pounding as the Library’s long fingers ran dexterously over his flaming erection. “But, uh, w-what if the guys come over here and walk around the van?”

            “Let me worry about that. They won’t see you.”

            “Huh? But how-?”

            “Hush, just relax. You want to come, don’t you?” The Library lowered his head between Darryl thighs.

            “Fuck, yes, I want to come.” Sweat poured down the back of Darryl neck as the Library slowly pulled the tip of his cock into that mouth. That mouth that was so good at giving blow jobs it was definitely a sin. Who was he kidding? Darryl was having extra-marital relations with a flesh eating monster, he was definitely going to hell. He wished he could care more about that, but as the Library moved with agonizing slowness to swallow Darryl’s dick halfway down, all he could do was mindlessly try to buck deeper. And that didn’t even work, because all it gained him was four limbs pushing him off balance so he slid down the side of the van, where they him firmly by the hips as he was finally swallowed to the root. As soon as the Library started to suck, Darryl lost it. He threw back his head hard enough to thump against the side of the van, and swore far too loudly at the pain and abrupt burst of pleasure. It was too much, both to endure, and to hide from the group of people that were only about twenty feet away.

            “Darryl?” Henry’s voice was way too clear, and way too close. Darryl shoved a hand in his mouth and bit down, but the damage was done. “Darryl, you doing alright? You’ve been gone for a while!”

            Darryl’s breathing was coming heavier as he dragged his hand out of his mouth. He had to answer, right? “Hen-“ The Library’s hand clapped over his mouth before he could speak. It was a good thing, too, since Darryl couldn’t hold back the muffled groan he made when the Library’s mouth left his wet dick with a pop, the monster leaning back to get a look at Darryl’s undeniably debauched face.

            “You really don’t want him to see you like this?” The Library whispered. Darryl shook his head frantically in the Library’s grip and sent him a pleading look. Henry couldn’t see him like this. How could he explain himself? Fuck, if he had just been quiet for another fucking minute this wouldn’t be happening! “Okay, deep breath, now!” The Library uncovered Darryl’s mouth. Darryl wasn’t able to finish his swear as the Library’s jaw unhinged and the limbs holding Darryl down now lifted him up in a fluid motion to force him helplessly down the Library’s throat.

            Henry’s head popped around the side of the van a moment later. “Darryl? Is that- oh, it’s the Library. Uh, did you find Darryl? You went looking for him, right?”

            The Library turned around in his crouch, hunching over to appear smaller in front of Henry, as well as to hide the last swell of his throat made by Darryl’s ankles as they were sucked down into the safety of his stomach. He hummed and hawed for a moment before answering. “Hmm, Darryl? Darryl. Did I find Darryl? Oh yes! I believe he was having some trouble. Shy bladder, you know? He wandered a bit further up the trail, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”

            “Oh, that makes sense,” Henry nodded. “So uh, what are you doing behind the van by yourself, then?”

            “Um, waiting for Darryl? I guess?” The Library rubbed his stomach as Henry nodded along.

            “Well hey, how about I pop a squat and sit here with you? We can wait for Darryl together, like a little welcome back party!”

            “What? No, thanks. I’m good, actually!”

            Henry ignored the Library and sat down next to him with a serious expression on his face. “I want to talk to you for a tick about the way you’ve been looking at Darryl. I notice you've been making him sit on your lap, and the whole ‘kidnapper dynamic’ you’ve got going on. You know, having a crush on your kidnap victim is fairly problematic.”

            “Oh my god, I think I’m going to throw up.” The Library tried to stand, but Henry was in his path.

            “Now hang on mister, you will sit down and address the problematic nature of- hey!” Henry gasped as the Library briskly pushed him aside and hurried off into the darkness.

*

            Darryl lay in the pit of the Library’s stomach. It was dark, and wet. Books in various states of solidity pressed into his back and sides, and he could’ve sworn he felt some half-digested troll bones brush along as foot as the stomach walls slowly undulated around him. His whole body still felt hot, and his surroundings only made that heat inescapable. If he had felt more coherent, he might’ve been mad at the Library for swallowing him without warning again. Or he might’ve been thankful if he could manage to accept that this solution did indeed hide him from Henry at least. But he was not coherent. He was unbearably, undeniably, mind-numbingly horny. With nothing else in his mind but the violent need to get off, Darryl shunted his pants and briefs down his legs and grabbed his dick, stroking hard with both hands. When that wasn’t enough, he smeared his cock against the slimy stomach wall, and thrust his hips against it, trapping his dick between his own sweaty gut and the surface of his living prison. The wall moved against him with those wonderful strokes that normally soothed him, but now only served to push him closer and closer to the edge.

            When Darryl came, he came with a guttural noise that sounded more animal that human. He sobbed and gasped as he pressed his face into the fleshy wall he had just fucked, mindlessly crushing his lips against it in a semblance of a grateful kiss. Then the wall moved again, hard enough to drive a book into his spine. Darryl cried out as fresh air hit his face from above. He raised his arms blindly over his head, and grabbed hold of the long fingers that were reaching for him. He held his breath as he passed through the squeeze of the Library’s throat, and blinked rapidly in the cool night breeze as he was set down on wobbling legs.

            “Feeling better?” the Library asked, running hands down the sides of Darryl’s face, his neck, his chest. Darryl couldn’t speak, at first. He just stood, breathing in and out slowly and trying to find words. In the distance, there was a guitar playing, some snatches of Jingle Bell Rock being sung, and the faint smell of smoke and cooking meat wafting in the air. Darryl’s stomach growled, and he pulled up his pants.

            “I’m feeling kind of hungry, actually,” the man admitted. The monster across from him laughed.

Chapter 13: Plan

Summary:

Castle Ravenloft is in the distance, its time to meet up with the mercenary army and form a plan of attack! Too bad no one here is any good at making plans.

Notes:

No sex or vore in this chapter, just set up for the next chapter really... plus some arguing I guess... what a bummer...

Also I just reread this chapter and wtf is this really just one really long meandering conversation where everyone just runs across a field a few times? This might be the most show-accurate fanfic chapter ive ever written.

13 Plan

            Castle Ravenloft was a heck of a thing to get to. It was surrounded by a force field, preventing aerial assault. This was made evident when Erin’s birds tried to scope the place out from a distance and ended up bouncing off the invisible dome before they got anywhere near it. They were rather lucky that a witch’s familiars are more resilient than the average bird, or else they might have broken their necks.

            “It shouldn’t be that hard to get in,” Darryl said after Scam parked the van under a tree in a field in the misty dawn with the Castle just breaching the horizon. This was where they were going to be meeting the mercenary army, according to Dennis, and everyone stood idly next to the vehicle to stretch out their various cramped appendages. “I mean, the purple robe guys basically invited us to go talk to them. They should just let us in, right?”

            “Yeah, they’ll let you in.” Erin rolled her eyes. “But not a witch, a couple eldritch beings, and a mercenary army.”

            “That’s true. We’re going to have to plan this out.” Henry frowned. “Should we wait for Benedict Cabbagepatch to show up? I bet a mercenary general would be better at strategizing than us.”

            “Wait for…? Oh!” Scam smacked his knee. “That’s right! Sorry, uh, I should go and, ah, make sure they’re on the right path! Be back in a jiffy! Don’t plan too hard without me! And Dennis, no making out with Glenn!” Scam then took off running at an absurdly high speed before anyone could stop him, leaving white cartoony smoke clouds in his wake.

            “Um, that was weird, right?” Ron asked. Glenn put a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

            “Scam’s just weird, little dude. Anyway, don’t worry about planning. I’m always three steps ahead. We’ve got this.”

            “Uh huh. Well forgive me, Glenn, but I think I’m going to wait for the experienced mercenary general to give us his two cents before I jump on board with whatever you’ve got cooking, okay?” Henry said scathingly. Glenn rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond, choosing instead to wander off a distance and light up a smoke.

            “Hey, Dennis?” Erin O’Neil said, crooking her finger. “Can I speak to you over there for a moment?”

            “Yes ma’am!” Dennis’s smile was blinding as he jogged deliciously slowly in the direction Erin was pointing.

            Henry bit his lip as he watched Glenn smoke and whispered to Darryl. “Aw geez, I was too harsh with Glenn, wasn’t I?”

            “You were kind of harsh, yeah,” Darryl muttered back.

             Henry nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna go apologize. Hey, Glenn!”

            “Oh, here we go.” Glenn groaned, but stabbed out his cigarette and allowed Henry to steer him further away from the group.

            “Scam better not be purposely ditching us.” The Library sounded irked as he tapped a finger on Darryl’s shoulder. He had taken to resting one of his hands there rather constantly over the course of the car ride, and apparently wasn’t going to stop now that they were outside of the van. “I may regret letting him live last time.”

            Darryl rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. You weren’t gonna kill him.”

            “I might’ve. You don’t know that.”

            “You just spit acid in his face, and he healed it immediately.”

            “Maybe I was aiming for his secret weak point and missed.”

            “Were you?”

            “So, um, are you two in love now?” Darryl and the Library immediately gagged and each gave Ron their own shell-shocked expression, followed by some half-formed babbling protests from both parties. Ron did not seem phased. “Well, I saw you both making love behind the van last night, and I know I probably should have left, but you didn’t notice me in the shadows, and I was afraid if I moved you would’ve seen me and then, uh, then you would’ve known I was watching you.”

            “So instead of stopping us long enough to leave, you just stayed and watched longer. Very classy, Ron.” The Library’s sarcasm was cutting, but judging by Ron’s look of pride, he didn’t pick up on it.

            “Yes, I am very classy, thank you. I am also very famous.”

            “Wait, Ron! You saw us?! You mean you saw the Library doing…? And then- oh shit, you saw the Library swallow…?” Darryl was starting to breathe harder as he tugged on his hair in mounting horror. “Hey! That means you saw the Library EAT me, and you didn’t DO anything?!”

            “Well, uh, I don’t know everything about making love. Samantha has been teaching me a lot, I just assumed that she hadn’t taught me about the eating part, yet.”

            “You don’t generally eat your partner during sex, Ron!”

            “Who’s talking about sex? I’m talking about making love!”

            “Making love IS sex, Ron!”

            “It is?” Ron’s eyes brightened and then darkened just as fast in an abrupt and jarring loss of innocence. Then he gasped and covered his mouth. “But this means… I’m not a virgin?”

            Darryl whined in the back of his throat and made some helpless gestures at the Library, who did nothing but shrug helplessly in response. No matter how long someone spent with Ron, he always found a way to blindside them. At least in this case, this revelation was enough to pull Ron completely out of the Library’s business as he walked slowly away and sat on the ground by himself, staring in the direction of Castle Ravenloft and pulling grass from the field one blade at a time.

            “Hey, what happened to Ron?” Henry asked, coming back from Glenn with his hands in his pockets. Glenn had lit up his cigarette again and hadn’t returned with Henry.

            “Uhh, he’s just being Ron,” Darryl said, hoping that Ron wasn’t going to bring what he saw up with the other dads. “So, uh, how’s Glenn?”

            “Huh? Oh, yeah, Glenn. He’s fine! Yeah, um, just tensions getting high, you know? I apologized, and Glenn said it was fine, and I didn’t need to be in on his plan anyway, so everything’s A-okay!” Henry made a spirited thumbs up, grinning at Darryl and the Library until their lack of reaction made him drop his hand and swing it self-consciously by his side. He cleared his throat. “So, you two were looking pretty cozy in the back of the van.”

            “I’m gonna go hang out with Glenn,” said Darryl as he frog marched himself out of there as fast as possible.

            “Wait, Darryl!” Henry raised a hand, but didn’t move to follow Darryl into Glenn’s radius again. It was probably for the best. By the time he turned back to the Library, the monster was pouring over three separate books held in three separate hands at once, and shushed Henry every time he tried to speak. Next he spied Ron, who had a growing patch of barren dirt at his side and a growing pile of shredded grass in front of him. “Hey Ron? Do you want to talk about it?”

            Ron looked up with wide eyes. “Yes.”

            “Oh good!” Henry said, plunking himself down next to Ron, only to immediately have the small man’s head on his shoulder as Ron poured out some very strange problems, some involving virginity and others involving Dennis, all while sobbing. Henry had no idea what Ron was trying to say, but he faithfully patted his shoulder anyway. “That’s alright Ron, just uh, just let it out.”

            Darryl stood beside Glenn looking out over the landscape, still grey with morning mist. He had declined Glenn’s offer for a smoke. Glenn sucked in a breath and asked, “You don’t want to get all sappy and talk about getting kidnapped and tortured or whatever, do you?”

            “Uhh, nope.”

            “Thank God.” The two men gazed over the field at the castle in the distance. Occasionally the invisible barrier would displace a cloud, giving them some scope of how big the thing was. It towered over the castle's highest point, and nearly reached the edges of the chasm that surrounded it like a moat. Only a narrow land bridge connected it to the rest of the earth. It was definitely daunting. It was hard to tell what Glenn was thinking, but his narrowed eyes suggested he was deep in thought. Darryl wasn't going to disturb him. In the face of such a daunting task, a moment of silence was to be appreciated.

            “Oh, Darryl! Come here for a moment, would you?” The Library called, breaking the momentary silence and waving some limbs from his reading spot by the van.

            “Heh, your boyfriend’s calling,” Glenn snickered. Darryl gasped, cheeks flaring red.

            “What did Ron tell you? H-he’s lying! I wouldn’t- look, I… fuck I knew we shouldn’t have just gone behind the van!”

            Glenn’s knuckles turned white as he nearly crushed his cigarette in his grip. His eyes were wide as saucers, though they were looking straight ahead and nowhere near Darryl. “Dude, I was joking.”

            “Oh. Ah, um, so was I?” Darryl’s lips pressed together firmly as the Library called his name again, throwing in a ‘yoo hoo’ for good measure. “Uh, I should go see what he wants. But not because… what you said.”

            “Yeah, uh huh, you do that,” Glenn nodded rapidly and looked pointedly in the opposite direction, his hands visibly shaking as he reached for another cig. Darryl whimpered as he scurried away toward the Library. Why was he such shit at keeping secrets?

            “Finally!” The Library was tapping his foot by the time Darryl reached him. “So, we have a little good news/bad news thing here. Good news is that it turns out with the dome spell like this, it’s very all or nothing. So when you make it, you basically have to leave an entry point, or else you’re as trapped inside it as your enemies are trapped outside. Bad news is, they probably only have one, meaning an army is going to be entirely useless, because if they all funnel through one access point they can just be picked off.”

            “Oh, uh, can we take the dome down, then?” Darryl asked. “Like, maybe we could send someone in like a spy, and have them knock out their power crystals or something?”

             The Library laughed and ruffled Darryl’s hair. Darryl frowned, but put up with it. “Oh Darryl, power crystals? That’s adorable. No, something of this magnitude definitely has a life force holding it up. Now, if you’re suggesting someone go in there and do a murder, maybe we could work with that.”

            “If we have to kill someone to save my son, then that’s what we’ll do,” Darryl said firmly enough to give the Library pause. “I’m not leaving him in there.”

            The Library sighed. “Yes, I suppose I should expect as much. You’ve already killed many people in this quest, haven’t you?”

            Darryl felt a touch uncomfortable at that assertion, and made an aborted gesture at Henry and Ron. “So, um, if you want to talk strategy, should I call the other dads over?”

            “No? I didn’t want to talk strategy, I just wanted an excuse to make you come back over here. I missed you, Darryl.” The Library widened his eyes and even put a little pout on his lips. Darryl groaned and covered his face.

            “I just sat on you for two days straight.”

            “Exactly! I got too used to you warming my lap, it may take ages to ween myself into staying away from you, again.” The Library grinned, and his tongue snaked out of his mouth to scrape across the back of Darryl’s hand and part of his face. Darryl squeaked and pulled away as the Library withdrew his tongue and smacked his lips. “Missed tasting you, too.”

            “Okay, I’m going back to Henry. I’m not dealing with this.”

            “You never do, Darryl.” The Library shook his head, but shooed Darryl off. “I suppose you may as well enjoy your visit while you can, though.”

            “Visit?” Darryl looked back over his shoulder even as he moved to walk away.

            “Darryl, you aren’t staying with them after this. You do remember my conditions, don’t you? You still have a lifetime of indentured servitude and flesh offerings to make good on for destroying your library books.” The Library watched Darryl carefully as the man’s face contorted with some thinly veiled hurt.

            “Yeah, I remember,” Darryl grumbled, shoved his hands in his pockets, and moved to walk away. He was stopped in his tracks, however, by some loud shouting and the sound of five trees ripping themselves out of the ground by their roots. “Uh, what’s that?”

            “Dunno, lemme check.” The Library stretched himself up to his full nine feet and cupped a set of hands around his mouth. “DOING OKAY OVER THERE, DENNIS?”

            Henry didn’t take long to jog over to the van. “Hey! What- what’s going on over there? Is Erin okay? Are we under attack?”

            “Um, I think Erin might be on her time of the month, ha ha,” Ron cleared his throat and squinted across the field with a hand shading his eyes. “Oh, she’s attacking Dennis. Do you think she wants any help with that, maybe? I could help.”

            “Yo, we can’t have them fighting! They’re going to draw attention to us!” Glenn called as he jogged over as well.

            “Alright, everybody in the van. We’re going over there!” Darryl ordered, wasting no time as he wrenched open the driver’s side door and climbed in. Scam had left the keys in the ignition, and within moments all the other dads had climbed into the van and Darryl honked the horn as he hung out his open window. “Library! Get in the van.”

            “Who, me?”

            “Well of all of us, you’d probably be the best at stopping an angry garden witch. Uh, maybe don’t kill her, though.”

            “They aren’t that far away, I could just walk.”

            “WILL YOU JUST GET IN THE VAN?” Darryl slammed his hand on the steering wheel. This was a high stress situation, and he was already pretty upset when this all started.

            “Wow, that was pretty rude,” the Library sniffed, but seemed largely unbothered as he reached for the back hatch of the van and got in. The Library was right, of course, it took Darryl less than a minute to pull screeching up to the battle ensuring on the edge of the field and have everyone pile out of the van again. The situation did look rather grim, although the tornadoes of leaves and twigs billowing several yards across made it a bit hard to see exactly what was going on. They did, however, hear some snatches of Erin shouting in a loud, echoing voice.

            “YOU PIECE OF SHI- HOW DARE YOU THI- -SOME SIDE HUSTLE YOU CAN- -HYPNOTIC ASS- LOOK LIKE- -LYING-!”

            “Wow, Erin is pissed. What did Dennis do?” Glenn asked as he got out of the van, the wind whipping his long black hair around his head.

            “He’s been lying to everyone! He hasn’t been here, and he’s not who he says he is!” Ron insisted, earning exasperated groans from Henry and Darryl. “No, Erin needs to know, too! Erin! ERIN, DENNIS ISN’T A REAL DAD!”

            There was a brief moment of quiet from Erin, then: “YES, RON, I KNOW. THAT’S KIND OF WHY I’M PISSED OFF. NOW STAND BACK WHILE I SMACK A BITCH OVER IT.”

            “Hmm, guess witches do cause trouble,” the Library sounded unconcerned as a flash of light cut through the leaf tornado and revealed the scene within. That being five tree men in battle stances, Erin standing on the branches of the tallest one, eye to eye with a glowing ball of light wherein lay a glowing pink man with a gaunt face, unaccountably many arms and legs, and big glowing eyes. Erin moved her arm and, like a Pacific Rim mech, the tree beneath her lifted a branch and swung at the glowing man, who only just managed to dodge the blow.

            “Babe, I’m sorry! You know, you were just so hot, I- yikes!” the glowing man, (Dennis?) pleaded as he dodged yet another hit.

            “Wait… wait a minute…” Henry covered his mouth and gasped. “Dennis… Dennis tried to trick us! Dennis tried to pretend to be Darryl, and then he wasn’t Darryl, but he said he was a dad… but… we didn’t meet him! He was just… he was just there one morning!”

            “Woah!” Glenn’s mouth hung open as he tangled his fingers in his hair. “This is weird! Too weird, man! I don’t know how to deal with this! Dude, that guy kept saying he was gonna make out with me!”

            “Oh my god, and Ron was trying to tell us this whole time!” Henry gasped again, “Ron, I’m so sorry!”

            “Thank you Henry. I’m still pretty upset about this whole thing, though. Can we can get rid of Dennis, now? Cause he’s really been pissing me off.”

            “Wait, okay, hang on a second,” Darryl put his hands in a time out gesture. “Look, I know what Ron said. But as far as I can tell, this guy is just some magic monster man who made himself look like a hot dude? Who even is he?”

            “Oh, that’s just Mark.”

            “What? You know this guy, Library?” Henry asked, pointing needlessly at the glowing man.

            “Well yeah, he’s my cousin.”

            “He’s your cousin?!” Darryl gaped.

            Glenn squinted up at Dennis-nay-Mark, and then at the Library. “Huh, I guess I see the resemblance.”

            “Wait, hang on, I’m confused.” Ron frowned. “I thought Scam Likely was your cousin?”

            The Library stared at Ron. “I don’t understand the question. Are you implying I can’t have more than one cousin?”

            “So Mark is Scam’s cousin, too?” Darryl asked.

            “No, no, they’re brothers.”

            “Oooooh, that makes sense, actually. What with the whole deception thing,” Henry said, nodding sagely as if he had been the one to figure it all out.

            “So, if he’s your cousin, are you gonna stop him or…?” Glenn trailed off, and the Library gestured to Erin incredulously.

            “What do you mean stop him? He’s the one under attack, I’m pretty sure.” He was right. Although Erin was launching attack after attack at Mark, Mark clearly wasn’t sending any attacks in return. In fact, he was even hit a few times while he was tried to plead forgiveness.

            “Well, can you stop Erin?” Henry asked.

            “Why would I do that?”

            “Uh, so she doesn’t kill your cousin?”

            “Oh,” the Library blinked slowly. “I mean, that’s pretty hard to do. He’s probably fine.”

            “Well, can you at least get her to calm down so she doesn’t make the purple robe guys come and find out what all the commotion is over here?”

            The Library looked rather put upon. “Urgh. That’s going to be unpleasant. What do you think, Darryl? Should I stop Erin?”

            It was clear that Darryl’s brain was working overtime on that one. You could almost see the smoke. “Maybe? I mean, yes? But don’t kill her! You promised you wouldn’t!”

            “Yes, yes, I won’t break my promise.” The Library patted Darryl on the head before he shook out his limbs, leaned forward onto them, and then broke into a bestial gallop toward the feuding mages. While Darryl was used to this image by now, the other dads each flinched in their own way, since the last time they had seen the Library this monstrous he had been aiming his ire at them. By the time the Library reached his destination, Erin had given up on screaming, instead while red faced and resplendent she directed her tree men to fight on her behalf, aiding them with blasts of wind and foliage. The Library skidded to a stop between Mark and the tree men.

            “Oh, hey cousin!” Mark said brightly, “Uh, mind telling Erin that I absolutely did not intend to molest her against her will with my charm spell, and that she was still in full control of her actions toward me even if I did make myself appear supernaturally attractive to mortals?”

            “No I won’t do that, because that’s some murky waters you’re stepping in there, Mark. I want no part in it. However, because Darryl requested it, I will be running some interference.” The Library turned to Erin, who was clearly seething up in her tree. “Hello!”

            “Hi Library,” Erin said sullenly, eyes still angry and fixed on Mark.

            “Enjoy those last books I lent you?”

            “Yeah, they were good.”

            “Kind of destroyed them though, huh? Couldn’t have liked them that much.”

            “Technically, I guess, sure. Darryl enslaved himself to you as payment for that though, so we’re square.”

            “Oh, yes, we’re square. Here’s the thing, though. That guy you’re trying to murder is my cousin, and we might actually want his help getting into Castle Ravenloft. Also he’s pretty hard to kill so, it might be better if you just gave up on this for now. You can always punch him later when he isn’t looking.”

            “Hey! Don’t say that!”

            "Don't you want to be fresh for the battle? This isn't the best time to use up all your spell slots, a short rest will only do so much!"

            Erin grit her teeth, closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then she squared her gaze at the Library for the first time in the conversation. “Fine. That's a good point. I will leave off for now. But you let your cousin know that he better not try to trick me like that again, and if he does, he better not be stupid enough to assume I’m actually sleeping in the back of the van and not listening to find out what you assholes say about me when you think I’m not listening.”

            “Aw fuck, that’s how you figured it out.” Mark made a face, but seemed to sense a lapse in danger and floated closer to the ground, glowing too brightly to see for a second before adopting his Dennis disguise again. “But hey, I mean, can you blame me? I know you can get it, Erin, but not everyone’s into the whole glowing, tons of limbs thing. Gotta have a plan B.”

            “That’s called magical catfishing, and it’s deceptive and creepy.” Erin growled, but allowed her tree men to set her back down on the grass and sent them trudging back to their root systems.

            “I disagree!” said Mark.

            Erin twitched. “Okay, quick poll, show of hands. Is pretending to be a really hot fire fighter dad with hella charisma in order to smooch hot witches creepy?”

            Darryl and Henry immediately put their hands in the air. Glenn hesitated for a second, but eventually shrugged and put his hand up too. The Library, notably, did not.

            “And me, so, four on two.” Erin nodded in satisfaction.

            “Wait, we don’t have Ron’s vote!” Mark said quickly, and immediately everyone started spinning around to figure out where their rogue had wandered off to in one of his frequent fits of boredom. As it turned out, Ron was across the field again, talking to Benedict Cabbagepatch, who was standing in front of his 200 mercenaries. The group immediately piled into the van again to zoom across the field and meet their assault forces. Darryl had barely put the van in park and opened his door when he suddenly had a lap full of Paeden, and a thigh full of knife.

            “AH! Aaaaah, hey Paeden! Fuck, what did I say about knives?”

            Paeden looked up at Darryl with a pout. “Not to stab people with them…”

            “And what did you just do?”

            “Stabbed you in the leg…”

            “That’s right. Give me the knife.”

            Paeden grumpily held out his knife for confiscation. “Figures. You’re back for five seconds and you’re already taking my knives.”

            “Knives? Plural?”

            “Uh, I mean knife! Just one knife, which you have now!”

            Darryl squinted at Paeden for insight, but couldn’t be entirely sure if Paeden was pulling a fast one or not. “I better not see another knife, Paeden.”

            “Okay!” Paeden said before running away very fast so Darryl wouldn’t perchance notice any strange pointy shapes under his shirt. It was good to see Paeden was in high spirits anyway, even if a Paeden in high spirits was usually covered in blood. He just had something in him that always cheered Darryl up when he was around. Like a little slice of home. As soon as Darryl got out of the van and turned his back to grab a few of his emergency paper towels so as to mop up the blood (the wound was fairly shallow by Paeden standards), Glenn let out a cry of pain and alarm. Darryl sighed heavily and grabbed the whole roll before going to check the damage. However, said damage wasn’t much of a concern as Benedict Cabbagepatch was already healing Glenn’s Achilles tendon by the time Darryl limped over. Paeden was busy being scolded by Henry, who was holding another knife in his hand as well. Paeden was regrettably unrepentant, and Darryl was stuck holding his roll of paper towels and feeling kind of useless.

            The Library then appeared out of nowhere to push Darryl’s paper towel bandage aside, healing the wound before Darryl could protest. “Don’t want to infect the meat!” he commented, making Darryl grimace and look away.

            “So, everyone’s here, I presume?” Benedict Cabbagepatch asked in a gruff, refined tone. His mustache twitched on his face with every word. “Do we have a plan of attack?”

            “Hey, you’re the mercenary general, isn’t that what you’re here for?” Darryl asked.

            Benedict Cabbagepatch looked affronted. “I am here to lead my men, and assure your orders are carried out to the letter. We are your tools for a successful military venture, and we may offer advice if you wish, but we usually expect our employers to have some idea of what they want us to do.”

            “We want to siege Castle Ravenloft,” Glenn shrugged. “Can’t you just… do that?”

            Benedict Cabbagepatch sputtered as his mustache raced around his face and across his forehead in indignation. “We don’t just ‘do’ things in the Bad Dogs, sir! We execute carefully laid plans! As I have said, if you would like some advice on your own plan, I can give you that advice, but you must have something for me to work with! What are your current resources outside of my men?”

            “Uh,” Glenn glanced at the hodgepodge of people standing behind him. “Um. Well there’s me, I can play the guitar good. Henry can do magic, Darryl can punch things, Ron’s kind of a wild card, Erin’s got tree magic, the Library’s got book magic and is mad strong, Dennis- uh, whoever the fuck, he’s got mad charisma, and Paeden’s got the eye of the tiger, baby! Hah.” Glenn looked around the field for a second. “Uh, and Scam does scams, but he said he was going to get you guys and never came back.”

            “He probably ditched,” the Library shook his head. “He’s never been especially reliable.”

            Benedict’s mustache twitched again and slowly edged back into its spot above Benedict’s lip, where the general stroked it gently. “Well, I’m sure he will be here when he intends to. Be that as it may! Do we know what we will be up against in our assault?”

            “Yeah! The Library was looking at schematics and stuff, right?” Darryl tugged on the Library’s jacket, making the monster startle out of the book his eyes had drifted back to.

            “Oh! Uh, right, yes,” the Library flipped back through the pages of his book and scanned the entry again before repeating his notes on the barrier to the larger audience. “So, as Darryl suggested to me, we should look into sending someone inside to bring down whoever’s life force is tied to the barrier. Then the rest of the army should have no trouble launching a proper attack.”

            Benedict nodded along. “That could work. Do you know who should be sent in to do this heinous deed? A small team with specialized skills, who would be able to enter the castle’s barrier without being immediately attacked, perhaps?”

            “Uh, it would have to be us, right?” Darryl pointed to himself and his fellow dads. “I mean, we’re the ones they’re expecting.”

            “Nope!” The Library said quickly, grabbing Darryl’s shoulders and tugging him firmly against the monster’s front. “You promised to stay in my sight, remember?”

            “And I said I can’t get out of your sight anyway cause of this!” Darryl waved his left hand in the Library’s face. “Remember?”

            “And I said that I can do more to protect you in person!” The Library glared. “I’m not budging on this, Darryl. You are not going in there with just these boobs for help. No way.”

            “Okay, everybody shut up! I’ve figured it out!” Glenn said loudly, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “We send in me, Henry, Ron, ‘Dennis’, and Darryl- but!” He cut off the Library’s protest, “What if it wasn’t really Darryl, and we got Scam to be Darryl instead!”

            The Library straightened. “I’m listening.”

            “Yes, do go on,” Benedict said, leaning forward with a tiny smile tugging at his mustache.

            “Look, no offense to Darryl, but we know these guys are all magic dudes, right? So Henry’s got magic, I got charisma, Ron’s got… Ron. Darryl just punches things. Definitely the weak link here, right? We can probably get Mark in dressed as Dennis cause he just looks like a dude, and he can use his weird mind warping thing so the purple robe guys won’t know he shouldn’t be there!”

            “Uh, I can’t guarantee that will work,” Mark said slowly. He had been hanging around at the back of the group and as far from Erin as possible. “It worked on you because I had time to study you at a distance, and none of you are actually good at magic.” He ignored Henry’s squawk of offense. “I don’t like my chances of being able to plough through the mind of whoever made a barrier as big as that one. I mean, I might be able to if they roll low on insight, but it’s still kind of a gamble.”

            “Well, okay, if it doesn’t work we send you out.” Glenn didn’t seem bothered. “We smile and say ‘alright, you got us, he’s gone’ and you leave. That’s even better, cause they’re going to assume we’re gonna try to trick them, right? So then they’ll think they got us, and let their guard down! But what they won’t know is that Darryl’s actually a shapeshifting magic guy, too! Scam can definitely scam that magic barrier down, no problem!”

            “Uh,” Benedict’s mustache twitched again and he dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. “So you intend to rely entirely on this ‘Scam’ person, then?”

            “I mean, we can run back up, but I’ve seen this guy work. He’s got this. He’s a cool guy.” Glenn grinned with his hands in his pockets. Benedict’s mustache began to sweat.

            “Heh, ah, right. I-I’m sure he does! I’m sure… right,” Benedict turned around and waved a dismissive hand. “Alright, go ahead and call him, then!”

            “Don’t mind if I do!” Glenn said as he point finger guns at Ron, who had been spending the last several minutes watching some ants going in and out of an anthill. “Ron! Call Scam, would ya?”

            “Oh, yes, thank you Glenn. I’ll just do that right now.” Ron dug into his pocket for his cell phone and made a show of carefully pressing each button. “Phone book… scroll down to… S for Scam… Scam Likely… call button…” Ron pressed the phone to his ear and closed his eyes. “It’s ringing.”

            From nearby, a mysterious ‘Hello Moto’ ringtone echoed as Scam’s faint ‘beep beepbeep beep beep’ tune echoed from Ron’s phone. The call picked up on speakerphone, and Ron began explaining the situation to Scam while Darryl struggled in the Library’s grip.

            “I said I had to go, too! I’m going!” Darryl hissed.

            “You’re here supporting them, aren’t you? Besides, Glenn already said they don’t need you to go in with them.”

            “I don’t care what Glenn says! Grant’s in there, I have to go save him!”

            “And you will. Once the barrier is down, you are more than welcome to join in with this trained mercenary army for all the stabbing and punching that’s sure to ensue from a siege.”

            “I don’t want to just sit on the bench! What if something goes wrong and they need help?”

            “Why would you think you would be more help than Scam and Mark? What exactly do you think you can do compared to eldritch strength and magic?” The Library’s grip tightened and Darryl wheezed on the pressure over his chest. “You can’t even get out of my limbs right now. What do you think you’re going to be able to do in there?”

            “Shut up!” Darryl growled, eyes blazing. He flexed his muscles and threw his whole body forward, putting everything he had into breaking the Library’s hold. He put one foot forward and heaved. The Library tipped forward. His grip didn’t release, but Darryl did drag him forward a couple of feet before the Library growled himself, and Darryl’s foot stopped moving on its own. Darryl howled in frustration. “That’s cheating! The purple robe guys won’t be able to do that!”

            “Darryl, are you okay?” Henry asked loudly. “If he’s bullying you, you let us know!”

            “I’m fine!” Darryl snapped, fighting viciously against his frozen foot. “This is bullshit! I’m good for more than punching things, by the way!”

            “Like what?” The Library ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Honestly, please, explain to me exactly what you think you can do that would be indispensable enough for you to go in there? Because all I’m seeing is a barbarian who thinks he can just punch a wizard and everything will be fine! It doesn’t work that way.”

            “I’m not saying I’m going to punch anyone!” Darryl was starting to get worked up. This was embarrassing, being stuck like this in front of everyone and not being able to gather enough strength to break free. Most of the potential audience to his misery were distracted by Benedict Cabbagepatch ripping off his mustache to reveal that he was actually Scam Likely in another disguise. But Henry kept looking back at Darryl with an awful, concerned expression, and some of the mercenaries were looking at him and whispering to each other. This was a fucking nightmare. “I might be able to think of something someone else can’t. Or someone could get hurt, and I’d be better at carrying them out then the rest of the guys! Maybe? Fine, I don’t know, I don’t know what I could do, but I want to be there to do whatever I can, okay?!”

            “Uh, Darryl?” Both the Library and Darryl looked up at Henry. “Um, couldn’t help but overhear. Um, as much as I don’t approve of the Library tearing down your self-worth like that, Glenn’s plan to get Scam in disguised as one of us is pretty good, actually. So one of us is going to have to stay behind no matter what, right? I mean, I know you want to be there with us, and we really appreciate it, and I know I was the one who said we needed you here in the first place but… maybe it would be better if you waited and came in later to help with Erin and the army?”

            “Yeah, I have to wait out here anyway, since my magic won’t work with that kind of necrotic barrier up,” Erin admitted. “I’m not throwing a fit over it. Sometimes you gotta know your skillset and let your party members do the stuff you can’t.”

            Darryl deflated in the Library’s arms, staring dully at the ground. The Library carefully released him once he determined he wasn’t going to try running off. “Yeah, Henry. Uh, I guess you’re right. Sorry I just… I’m just worried about Grant, is all.”

            Henry trotted over to grab one of Darryl’s hands, warmly patting the back of it. “I know, Darryl. We’re all really worried. I promise that if we find Grant in there, we’ll let him know that his dad’s out here with an army, just waiting to lead them in to save him. Okay?”

            “Yeah, okay,” Darryl nodded glumly as Henry drew away and returned to the group to discuss their plan of entry. The Library put a hand back on Darryl’s shoulder, and the man shook it off. “Can you just leave me alone for a second?! I don’t like you touching me all the time.”

            “Why not? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

            “I’m not ashamed, I don’t fucking like you!” Darryl said far too loudly. Everyone was definitely looking at him now. When Darryl turned to glare at the Library, he nearly faltered at the stricken expression on the monster’s face.

            “Wow, that was pretty fucking harsh, bro,” Paeden whistled.

            “Right…” The Library trailed off and took a conscious step backwards, curling his limbs in on himself. “Well, ah, I guess I should expect that. Doesn’t really matter, though!” The Library forced a laugh. “I’ll leave you alone for now, but you’re still not going on that spy mission! And you’ll have plenty of time to re-evaluate any negative opinions you may have after we’ve saved your son and you’re safely back home at the keep again.” The Library flashed a toothy smile before abruptly turning around and walking off a short distance, only to yank a fourth book from his throat and start reading to himself again.

            Darryl’s hands curled into fists and shook at his sides. When he turned around again, however, he startled to see Scam standing directly behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder showed the other dads, Erin and Paeden were huddled up discussing something, so Darryl turned his attention back to Scam. “What do you want?”

            “Lots of things, Darryl, lots of things. But let’s not talk about me, let’s talk about you and what you want. You want to get in that castle, right?”

            “Yeah? But Glenn said-“

            “Hush, now. Glenn’s plan is fine, truly! But he wants me to run a scam, right?”

            “Right?”

            “And what better scam is there, than to scam the person who wants you to scam someone else?”

            “I’m not following.”

            “Look, you want to go on the spy mission. I have a better plan, one that does involve you going on that spy mission. You want in or not?”

            Darryl looked back over his shoulder at the other dads, grinning and putting their hands in the middle. He had missed that, and he wanted to prove to the other dads that they needed him again. He looked across the field at the Library. He was mad at him. He wanted to prove he was more capable than that asshole said, too. He wasn’t going to be some piece of meat on display!

            Darryl didn’t think twice before he stuck out a hand for Scam to shake. “I’m in.”

             

Chapter 14: Attack

Summary:

The dads minus Darryl enter Castle Ravenloft to save their sons... but is Darryl really staying behind on this adventure like a good boy?

Notes:

... aw shit I think there's a plot now. Fuck.

14 Attack

            Glenn Close knew the other dads didn’t think much of him. He thought that made them kind of stupid, but he was cool with that. He didn’t care what other people thought about him, that’s what made him so cool. He didn’t care if Henry thought he valued his career more than his kid. He didn’t care if Ron thought that making a smart gamble wasn’t as honourable as blindly giving up something important to him so that maybe they would have an easier time finding his kid. He didn’t care that Darryl thought his plan to get into Castle Ravenloft to save his kid was bad or unfair. He didn’t care, because he was cool like that. And besides, his plan was working perfectly! Him, Ron, Henry, ‘Dennis’, and Scam (disguised as Darryl) had all walked straight into the barrier of Castle Ravenloft without incident, going straight down the land bridge toward the looming front gate. Sure, Paeden had followed them in when they weren’t looking, but that was fine. Paeden was a cool kid, and they might need someone to go up a chimney or something later, heh. Can’t hurt to have a little guy on your team. Glenn played enough Goldeneye on the N64 to know that. Oddjob wins every time!

            “Hey, Glenn?”

            Urgh. Henry. “Yeah? What?”

            “I assume that the Library is going to be able to notice when the barrier comes down, and can send the army in when that happens. But what do we do if things go wrong? How are we going to get out of here, or let someone know something’s awry?”

            Glenn huffed. As much as he liked being three steps ahead of everyone, it sucked when he had to back up and explain things to other people. Why couldn’t anyone ever keep up with him? This was why Bush got away with 9/11. “Dude. We got Scam Likely. He can scam us out, no problem. Right, Darryl?” Glenn winked over his shoulder at ‘Darryl’.

            ‘Darryl’ straightened up at the acknowledgement and gave a quick nod. He didn’t answer, but he had been keeping mostly quiet since he took Darryl behind the van to make sure he copied his body ‘down to the sinew’, and Glenn suspected that he might’ve seen something on Darryl’s body that traumatized him. He wasn’t sure what. Could have been something the Library did to him. Glenn had theories. Theories that had gone in some really bizarre directions since Darryl’s weird stammered half-confession, but theories none the less. No time to get too wrapped up in theories, though. He could figure out what was off with Scam later. The group stood ready in front of the big wooden front doors, and Glenn breathed out through his nose to steady himself. He raised a hand to knock.

            Before he could land a single hit on the door, however, a loud roar pierced the air and Glenn stumbled backwards, tilting his head up in time to witness the absolutely awe-inspiring form of a massive yellow dragon hurtling itself out from amidst the castle’s spires, sending a jet of fire into the air so hot that Glenn could feel it on his face from the ground. Gartok and his kids were absolutely nothing compared to the football field-sized beast that flew above them now, sweeping over their heads and beating its wings to hover over the land bridge between them and the one and only exit. Then it furled its wings up along its spine and plummeted downward, smashing directly into the stone, shattering it with the impact. The ground shook under the hapless party, sending them all to their knees. They were forced to watch helplessly as their only means of escape crumbled and fell apart before their eyes.

            “Oh shit,” ‘Darryl’ said before covering his mouth with his hand. That sent a shiver up Glenn’s spine.

            “No one said there would be a dragon!” ‘Dennis’ whimpered, and that made Glenn start to feel an edge of panic. He thought having a couple of monsters on their side gave them an edge! If they were put off by a dragon, they might be totally screwed.

There had to be a bright side to this, right? Glenn just need to think of it. “Well, uh, guess Darryl and the merc army probably noticed that.”

            “THAT DOESN’T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER, GLENN!” Henry sounded stressed out, but what else was new. “There’s an effing DRAGON!” The indicated dragon had picked itself up from the bottom of the chasm, and had flown back into the air. Its scales were scuffed up and dusty from the fall, but when it turned its eyes on the group it looked as murderous as ever, though it wasn’t attacking yet. It just hovered, watching them huddle on the castle’s doorstep.

            “Oh fuck, they’ve got an orb of dragon-kind.” Dennis swore and started to breathe harder. In fact, he looked close to hyper-ventilating. This might actually be pretty bad, then. Glenn needed more information, but he had to calm himself down first. He started searching in his pockets for a joint.

            “Psst, Glenn? Should I know what an orb of dragon-kind is?”

            “I don’t fucking know, Ron. Ask Paeden,’ Glenn muttered as he lit up and took a long enough drag that he coughed at the end of it. God, that felt better.

            “Psst, Paeden? Should I know what an orb of dragon-kind is?”

            “Uhh,” Paeden swallowed. “Well, an orb of dragon-kind basically lets you control a dragon? So I guess Dennis is saying that the purple robe guys are controlling this thing. And uh, look, I’m a pretty tough kid.”

            “Eye of the tiger, Paeden!” Glenn grinned, holding out for a fist bump, which Paeden automatically returned.

            “Yeah, eye of the tiger, baby! But uh, so, I don’t actually think I can fight a dragon? I mean, its fangs are bigger than I am. What are we going to do?”

            “Yeah Glenn, what’s the plan now?” Henry asked in a weird mix of condescension and genuinely seeking advice.

            “Shit, dude, I don’t know! I didn’t expect a dragon! Hey Mark, can you fight a fucking dragon?”           

            “Yeah, but I might not win,” Dennis looked at his disguised brother with growing panic. “Scam, you got a way out of this?”

            “Yeah, Scam’s got this!” Glenn looked at Scam and held out another fist bump, which was notably not returned. Glenn swallowed and lowered his fist, but tried to keep up his pep. “He can scam us out!”

            “Yeah, scam us out, Scam! Heh heh,” Ron laughed awkwardly.

            Scam made a strange sound at the back of his throat and took his time wetting his lip before speaking. He did a convincing Darryl impression, Glenn would give him that. “Well, uh, an orb of dragon-kind, right?” Scam speaking in Darryl’s body sounded weird, like Darryl putting on a fake high-pitched voice. “Okay, uhh, so. The dragon isn’t attacking yet, so it’s probably just there to stop us from leaving?”

            “And it’s doing a very good job, might I add. Maybe I should have one of my bats talk to it?”

            “No, Ron, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Henry sighed.

            “I think we should just go into the castle,” Scam said finally. “They obviously want to actually talk to us. If they just wanted to trap and kill us, we’d be under attack by now. So let’s just go in, find out what the purple robe guys want, and maybe we can get the orb of dragon kind away from them?”

            “You don’t sound very certain there, bro,” Dennis said, narrowing his eyes. He sounded suspicious. That made Glenn suspicious.

            “Yeah, what’s going on, Scam? You’ve been acting kind of weird,” Glenn asked with his newfound suspicion.

            “There’s a dragon, man, I don’t fucking know! I can’t fight a dragon! I can’t scam a fucking fire breathing dragon! Let’s just go talk to some scary mage guys! Come on, uh, dumb-dumbs!” With that, Scam marched passed the rest of the party and pushed on the door. It easily gave way beneath his hand, opening inward to the dimly lit atrium beyond.

            They left the dragon outside and tiptoed into the dark. Glenn remembered that this castle was supposedly once inhabited by a vampire lord, and it seemed like the purple robe guys hadn’t bother redecorating the place since they took it over. The ceiling was tall, vaulted, and hung with four impressive candelabra chandeliers, all dangling from flying buttresses. The floor was stone with a black rug embroidered with bone white skulls running up the center, leading to a second set of doors on the far side of the room. There weren’t any windows, which made sense given the bad relationship between vampires and the sun. Instead, long tapestries covered the walls, depicting scenes of carnage and war, skies darkened by bats and humans wailing and bleeding all over the ground. It was pretty unsettling, to say the least.

            “Dark in here. Nice art, though,” said Dennis, who had shoved his hands in his pockets and had taken on a more confident stride once the dragon was firmly behind them.

            “Guys, I want you to know that if you’re scared right now, I respect you and understand. I, for one, am absolutely terrified,” Henry whispered, his knees shaking so badly that Glenn could almost hear them knocking together. He took another drag on his joint before offering it to Henry. To Glenn’s shock, he actually grabbed it and took a drag, shoving it back into Glenn’s hand without looking at him, only muttering a quick ‘thanks’. Dang. He hoped that helped.

            “Hey, Glenn? Can I also try some of your marijuana? I wasn’t going to, but then Henry had some, so I think it might be a good idea now, actually.”

            “Sure, Ron, knock yourself out,” Glenn passed his joint to Ron, idly curious of what Ron would be like when he was buzzing on something. Ron took a few puffs before handing it back.

            “I don’t feel anything.”

            “It might take some time to kick in, if it does at all,” Glenn shrugged, “Some people don’t feel anything the first time.”

            “Oh. That’s disappointing.”

            “Hey, don’t leave Paeden out! I want some, too!” Paeden hissed, tugging on Glenn’s sleeve.

            “No, Paeden!” Scam snapped. Everyone stared at him. “Uh, h-he’s just a kid?”

            “Since when would you care about that?” Dennis asked, suspicion back in his voice. Scam bit his lip.

            “Okay, so, uh,” Scam laughed awkwardly, “Um, I’m actually Darryl?” Everyone’s jaw dropped. “Yeah uh, Scam and I swapped places. It’s just because I wanted to come! And Scam said that this would be a better idea, anyway! Something about uh, how cause we’re all dads we’d have more power… um… and Erin had a theory about something… he didn’t… tell me what…” Darryl swallowed. “I-I’m sorry?”

            “DARRYL WHAT THE FUCK?!” Henry exploded, ripping strands of hair out the sides of his head as his eyes flashed different colours. It was kinda trippy.

            “I knew it! I fucking knew you weren’t my brother! Shit! I can’t believe he just sent me in here with you guys! This is dangerous as shit and he… oh fuck, this is revenge over the faulty Gaming Orb, isn’t it?” Dennis whined and hugged himself, looking really twitchy all of a sudden.

            “Yo, my man Darryl, sneaking in to get in on the action! Taking and page out of the ol’ Paeden manual! Knew you had it in you!” Paeden held up a hand for a high five, but Darryl returned it only half-heartedly.

            “Wait, you guys didn’t know it was Darryl?” Ron blinked. “I thought we were tricking the purple robe guys into thinking Darryl was Scam?”

            “No, Ron!” Glenn snapped. “We were tricking them into thinking Scam was Darryl cause then we were going to reveal he was Scam and have a secret extra magic user, and now Darryl fucked it up!” The musician covered his eyes and hummed the first few bars to Smoke on the Water over and over until he was able to get his cool back. “You know what? It’s fine. Whatever. He’s here now. Fucked up my plan like a n00B, but I’ll deal with it.” Whatever, if Scam would pull something like this he probably wouldn’t’ve been much help, anyway.

             Henry was absolutely hyperventilating now. Darryl put an awkward hand on his shoulder to try and ground him. “Hey, uh, Henry? Look, I’m sorry, but I just wanted to help, you know? Besides, we don’t need Scam for this! We can do it, just us! These are our sons, we’re there dads, we can do this!” Henry whined, and Dennis started laughing hysterically.

            “Oh yeah, sure, you morons are definitely fit to take on three powerful mages. I’m going to fucking die in here.”

            “Dude, would your brother really send you to your death, man? Like, Scam’s a bastard, but I didn’t think he was that bad?”

            Dennis looked at Glenn like he was stupid. He was used to that, but he still didn’t like it much. “I won’t stay dead. But it’s still gonna suck. Goddamn it, I’m not even gonna get a choice! Scam planned this fucking… GAH!” Dennis covered his face again and screamed into his palms. Strangely, Glenn found that encouraging. If Scam legit had a plan here, they might actually be getting out of this alive after all. Maybe not Dennis, but he said he’ll be fine so, whatever. It’s cool. It’s all cool.

            “Huh. I think I am starting to feel it.” Ron sat on the floor and stared at the wall. He giggled a little under his breath. So Ron was either edging on a high off one puff of Glenn’s joint, or he was disassociating. That was going to be one of the mysteries of the universe for sure.

            “So uh, you guys want to keep going in?” Glenn pointed a thumb at the other set of doors. “I mean, I would’ve thought these guys would bother showing up to greet us or something by now, but doesn’t look like that’s happening.”

            “Uh, yeah, guys!” Ron said as he tried to get back on his feet and fell over on his ass again. “Um, l-let’s go kick s-some butts or whatever, heh heh heh.”

            In that moment, the candles overhead flickered, and about half went out, effectively dimming the lights. Immediately the party all drew in closer together, Paeden tucked in the middle as obnoxious laughter bellowed from every corner of the room at once.

            “Oh really? That’s rich, you’re going to kick our butts? Do you really, honestly think you could possibly get the upper hand here? We could destroy you all right now if we wanted to. You saw that dragon outside? We could make you WISH we let that thing eat you!”

            “Oh you poor, misguided, idiots. There’s no reason for you to get violent. We just wanted you here so we could talk to you, after all.”

            “If you just want to talk, why don’t you show yourselves?” Glenn snapped at the ceiling.

            “Oh sure, we can do that.”

            The candles all flickered at once, plunging the room into darkness for the blink of an eye, and when they returned to light, standing before them were three figures they had only seen in dreams. The people who had stolen their kids. The purple robes. On stood slightly in front of the others, the tallest and widest of the three. Glenn sized him up as the leader. On his left, there was the slightly shorter, skinnier purple robe, and on his right was one that was short and stocky. All three had their arms folded, their faces obscured by their hoods. It only took Glenn a couple of seconds to decide that the first thing he wanted to do was pull those fucking hoods off and find out who was under there, Scooby-doo style.

            “Who are you guys, and what do you want?” Darryl asked loudly while Glenn started scanning the room for stuff he could use to accomplish his goal. The tapestries could be useful, the candles could be useful, Paeden could be useful…

            When the purple robe guys spoke, their voices echoed too much to determine where they came from. They might’ve all been speaking at once from what the dads could hear. “Simple. We are the men who are capable of being the fathers your children need.”

            Glenn immediately tuned out whatever they were saying. They took his kid and sounded like pompous ass hats, so they weren’t worth listening to. They were only going on with some garbage about how Glenn and the others were shit dads and that they wanted to be better dads to their kids so they could use something called daddy magic, which was just suspect as fuck. Glenn was sure Henry would over-analyse whatever they were talking about later if it turned out to be relevant, so Glenn would concentrate on more important stuff while the assholes kept saying dumb asshole things. That just meant they would be distracted.

            Glenn idly stepped backwards into the group and bent over to whisper at Paeden. “Hey, Paeden? Feeling dextrous? Wanna knife something for me?”

            “Oh my god I thought you’d never ask,” Paeden whispered back, practically salivating at the chance to cut into something. Glenn nodded and gave him a tiny fist bump. This kid was so cool. Eye of the tiger, baby! Paeden listened with rapt attention as Glenn hissed his plan into his ear, a feral grin spreading wider on his face every second.

            “Okay, ready? Go!” Glenn slapped the boy on the back, and the eight year old took off running, practically melting into the shadows, as expected. Big baddies like these goons are always standing around in the dark, so Paeden was going to use that to his advantage. While Paeden was taking out a couple knives and using them to scale one of the tapestries behind the purple robes, Glenn provided an extra distraction. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, but that was fine. Glenn often lost track of the conversation, so he could get away with asking dumb questions. “Yeah, okay, but what makes you guys such great dads, huh? Explain that!”

            “Oh my god, we literally just said this. Okay, fine, just for GLENN since he wasn’t paying attention as usual, we will go over this again. So, WE-“

            Glenn immediately started ignoring the purple robes again, merely staring into space until Darryl interjected something else and Glenn knew attention was off of him again. He tiptoed over to Ron. “Hey, Ron.”

            “Oh, hi Glenn,” Ron copied Glenn’s whisper, which was lucky. Ron was a wild card, but he had them rogue skills, and Paeden looked like he had almost finished sawing through the chandelier. The tapestry was catching fire nicely, too, and no one had noticed just yet, natch.

            “Ron, I got an important mission for you. Part of the grand plan. You want to do something heroic and contribute to the mission objective, right?”

            “Oh, yes, I would be happy to utilize my skillset to assist, uhh, in this business venture.”

            “That’s right Ron, you got it. Here’s what you’re gonna do…” Glenn launched into his next set of instructions, and within moments of having looked away from Ron, he too appeared to vanish from sight. Though that was less from the benefit of shadows and more from Ron just being able to inexplicably turn attention off of himself whenever he wasn’t saying or doing anything absolutely buck wild. Glenn was sure if he tried to actively look for Ron he could find him, but he didn’t want to accidentally jinx the situation and make someone else notice Ron at the same time, so he refrained.

            Instead, he looked up at Paeden who appeared to be grunting as he hacked at the cord holding the chandelier up, while putting his full weight on the chandelier itself. Huh. That was probably not great. Just as Glenn was weighing the pros and cons of yelling at Paeden to abort the plan vs. just kind of hoping he didn’t die when he hit the ground, the cord snapped, and Paeden yelled, attracting everyone’s attention before the metal chandelier even hit the ground. The candles blew out and the clattering sound was loud enough to make even the purple robes cover their ears. Dang, that would make it harder to get the hoods off. Paeden, luckily, had grabbed hold of the remains of the cord and was dangling far above everyone, glowing orange in the light of the burning tapestry.

            “What the fuck?!”

            “Paeden!” Darryl gasped, running forward and opening his arms as Paeden kicked his feet, his sweaty little boy hands already slipping down the cord in jerks. “Paeden, it’s okay, I’m here! I’ll catch you!”

            “Uhh, c-can you maybe come up here to get me?”

            “Probably not, kiddo!” Darryl looked frantic, but Glenn knew this was Ron’s best chance to act as the purple robes got their bearings again. So the bard turned his attention fully on their captors and couldn’t help the smirk that snuck its way onto his face when Ron grabbed the hood of the stocky purple robe on the right, and yanked it backward.

            The smirk fell off Glenn’s face like a stone. “W-what the fuck?!” The exclamation was enough to make Henry and Dennis look at him, and then at the purple robes.

            “Aw hell,” the unmasked man muttered, turning around and making a threatening fist at Ron, who scurried away as fast as possible.

            “Oh, Ron! You got one of their hoods off! Good for you!” Henry smiled.

“Yeah, uh, Glenn said it would be a good time to do it.”

 “Glenn? But how would he know…?” Henry gasped. “Wait, Glenn! Did you tell Paeden to climb up there and chop the chandelier down?! That’s really dangerous!”

            But for once, Glenn couldn’t even spare a shred of annoyance over Henry’s bitching. Because the man that Ron had just unmasked was his deceased father, Bill Close. “This is a trick. This has to be a trick.” Glenn muttered to himself, shaking his head steadily from side to side.

            “Trick?” Henry cocked his head to one side. “Glenn, do you know this guy?”

            “No, no I definitely don’t,” Glenn shook his head. “I mean, this guy LOOKS like my dead dad, but that’s impossible since he’s fucking DEAD, so there’s no way that’s him, right? Unless… aw shit, you don’t think we’re dead, do you?”

            “No way, nope, this isn’t the afterlife!” Darryl snapped from where he was, still poised under Paeden’s swinging legs and ready to catch with all the skill of a rusty high school football bencher. “I refuse to believe it! It’s probably just another shapeshifter guy, like Dennis!”

            “Wait, Dennis is a shapeshifter? But I thought… wasn’t Dennis that dad we called here for… ow… ow… wait, WAIT! Dennis wasn’t with you guys before! Who the fuck is he?”

            “Goddamn it, Darryl,” Dennis massaged his temples. “Alright, we’re doing this, then.” Then, abruptly, Dennis’s skin broke out into a billion pinpoints of pink light and exploded outwards, exposing the pink and glowing eldritch being beneath. “Hi, I’m Mark, what’s up?” He turned to Glenn. “Also, for the record, being a shapeshifter myself, I don’t think these guys are shapeshifters. Well, that one is,” he pointed at the skinny purple robe. “But he’s not shifted right now, so, yeah.”

            “Aw fuck, this is the stupidest fucking… there was going to be a big reveal, but then you just had to be stupid about it! Fine! Fine, here you go!” With that, the leader of the purple robes pulled off his hood. Ron gasped and fell backwards into Henry. Paeden let out a short scream, hands slipping from the remains of the cord entirely as he plummeted to the ground, flipping in mid-air so that when Darryl nearly missed him and caught him by the ankles, his head ended up half an inch from the floor.

            “Aw fuck,” Darryl half collapsed as he tugged Paeden back up and righted him, pulling him into his arms as his shoulders began shaking. “Paeden, you can’t just do shit like that! You could’ve been hurt!”

            “U-uh huh, uh, that- uh…” Paeden swallowed hard a few times, and from what Glenn could see, there was a stream of piss running down the boy’s leg.

            “Hey, Paeden? You okay there, kid?” Glenn called.

            “Uh, uh, y-you guys remember I was left at the Bullywog’s by my foster dad? W-well u-uhh, th-th-that…” Paeden pointed a violently shaking finger at the unmasked man.

            “What? Paeden? Paeden’s… my brother?” Ron gasped. Glenn’s jaw went slack.

            “Ron? That’s your dad? Your dad’s here, too?”

            “Yes, that’s Willy Stampler. I also thought he was dead, actually. H-he died a long time ago?” Ron swallowed and waved awkwardly at the purple robe. “H-hello, sir.”

            Willy Stampler ignored his son and made a tiny gesture at the remaining purple robe, who pulled off his hood as well. This time Henry was the one to gasp, though that one came as no surprise. While Glenn only vaguely resembled his dad and Ron looked almost nothing like his, Henry’s father Barry Oak looked nigh-identical to his son, save for his blond hair being a bit lighter and more silvery, and his features only marginally more angular with some distinguished wrinkles around the eyes that somehow seemed to indicate more artful wisdom than age.

            “Dad! W-what are you doing here?!” Henry sounded ready to go back into full panic attack mode. “W-we were at the commune, and we had that fight, and then… it’s all kind of hazy but, why are you here, now?”

            “Oh my son, my son, my son…” Barry Oak shook his head slowly, spreading his hands and wearing an expression so smug Glenn ached to punch it. “We are here for one reason, and one reason alone. We are here to be the fathers your children need. We were good fathers to you, I’m sure you’ll agree. Not… great fathers, as you apparently have turned out to be such poor fathers in turn. But that is the tragedy of fatherhood! Once you reach the pinnacle of success as a father, your children are grown and refuse to continue to benefit from your wisdom! We are here to take the burden of fatherhood from you, so that we can become the omega-daddies. And you… you will return to your original world, safe in the knowledge your children are cared for, and free from the terror that you are raising your children wrong. Which, I’m sure you’ll agree, you definitely have been to this point.”

            Glenn’s hands clenched into fists. “Yo, fuck you guys! I can tell right now you’re full of shit! I mean, I’ve heard you speak for two minutes and I already know you’re just some smug asshole. Ron and Paeden are fucking wetting themselves in fear, so I know their dad’s an asshole, and MY dad was never fucking around, so he sure as fuck never learned how to be a good dad. You’re full of shit, give us our kids back!”

            “Yeah, how do we know our kids are better off with you?” Darryl snapped. “And… and where’s my dad?” Darryl straightened a bit and looked around, still holding Paeden in his arms, as though expecting his dad to appear. “Not that I’d ever expect my dad to be a part of something like this but… why am I even here if my dad’s not here?”

            Willy shrugged. “Back up plan. I don’t really give a fuck about your son. You can have him back if you convince the rest of these idiots to give up on theirs.”

            Glenn stiffened, a thought hitting him. “Now wait just a minute, Darryl’s got a good point! How do we know our kids are even okay right now? We can’t just sign rights to our kids away if we can’t even see they’re alright!”

            Willy and Barry exchanged looks, and Willy gave a sharp nod. Barry turned a placid smile on Glenn. “Ah yes, of course. Of course, we cannot possibly assume you would be content leaving without seeing that your children are truly better off without you.” With that, Barry turned on the spot and raised his hands above his head. Electricity crackled from his fingertips, and a loud creak sounded off as the giant doors behind him slowly began to open. Behind them stood all five missing children. Grant. Lark and Sparrow. Terry Junior. And at the end, shaking and giving his dad a thumbs up, Nick. Glenn giggled nervously.

            “Yo, Nick! You good?”

            “Y-yeah dad.”

            Glenn nodded. “See guys? They’re good!”

            Barry Oak snorted. “Yes, indeed. As you can see, all your children are fine and cared for here. You don’t need to worry about them, and as long as you accept that, we can send you all back home without further incident. I’m sure you’ll agree that this is what is best for everyone.”

            “We can’t just do that!” Darryl finally set Paeden down and took a few hesitant steps toward his own son. “I-I mean, if Grant says that’s what he wants, I mean, we can talk about it. But it’s not our choice to just leave our sons behind!”

            “Urgh, see, that’s your problem. That’s why you’re such poor fathers!” Willy shook his head and chuckled. “You think your kids get a say in their lives. They’re just fucking kids. They don’t know what’s best for them! A father needs to make those choices for them, and obviously you idiots can’t fucking do that.”

            “Language, Willy, the children?” Barry gestured vaguely behind him.

            “Shut the fuck up, Barry.”

            “Right,” Barry ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Yes, well, ah, anyway. We’re offering you the option of going back to that day you entered the forgotten realms. We will make it so instead carpooling, you will place your children onto a bus, and you will not see them again. However, you will be safe, your wives will be safe, and you will know in your hearts that your sons are safe, and happy. There will only be one other change…” Barry trailed off, and Glenn’s cell phone began to ring.

            Glenn’s cell phone was dead. It had been dead for ages. But it was ringing now. Glenn’s fingers twitched a few times before he fumbled for it, his hands clammy as he held the phone to his ear, not even bothering to press the button to answer the call. “Hello?”

            “Hey Glenn, what’s up?”

            Glenn’s mouth dried instantly. His gaze drifted in front of him, falling dead on Nick’s eyes as he managed to breathe out. “Morgan?” Nick’s eyes grew huge, and Glenn tore his gaze away, staring down at the floor as his dead wife’s voice spoke into his ear for the first time in years.

            “Yeah. I’m just at the store picking up a few things. Did you want me to grab anything for you?”

            “Yeah, um, c-could you… could you tell me what year it is?”

            “What? Oh I get it, you got into your stuff pretty hard already, huh? That’s cool, I’ll catch up when I get home, hah! You better have left some of the good stuff for me when I get there.”

            “I’m just… wow. Uh, I just… I missed hearing your voice, babe.”

            “In one of your introspective weed moods, huh? I’m gonna see you soon, okay? I’m just going to get a few things and I’ll be right home.”

            “I love you, baby.” Glenn was breathing harder. He didn’t care. “You know I love you, right?”

            “Geez, you’re making me blush, babe. I love you too, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” The phone hung up. Glenn looked back at the blank screen. He squeezed his eyes shut.

            “Dad?” Nick’s voice seemed to come from leagues away.

            “So, you allow us to raise your children for you. All your wives will be safe and alive, including Morgan Close-nay-Freeman. Everyone wins!”  The other dads started protesting, but Glenn didn’t know what to say. He was staring at his phone, trying desperately to process what had just happened. This wasn’t real. None of this could be real. His dad was dead. His wife was dead. They were dead and they weren’t coming back. It was just him, like always. Just him. Oh, and Nick. Fuck, Nick. Glenn looked up to see the kids were edging closer to the edge of the doorway, all of them casting nervous looks at Willy’s back, clearly considering making a break for it but all of them too scared to make the first move. Nick, however, was also casting looks at Glenn.

            “Uh, you good, dad?” Nick asked. Glenn gave his son a shaky thumbs up. Nick nodded. He did not look reassured.

            “Boys, are you okay?” Henry yelled across the room.

            Lark and Sparrow exchanged looks. “Not really!” yelled Sparrow.

            “They haven’t fed us in days!” Lark elaborated.

            “What?! You haven’t even been feeding them?!” Darryl roared. Willy groaned and turned to Bill angrily.

            “I gave you ONE JOB before we came out here, feed the fucking kids!”

            Bill shrugged, a stunningly familiar look of apathy gracing his face. “I forgot, dude.”

            “You are the most useless fucking… whatever.” Willy turned a forced smile at Darryl. “Okay, fine, our bad. It’s not like we have any women around to remember that shit, do we?” He glanced at Barry. “Since someone wouldn’t volunteer his wife to deal with that garbage.”

            “That’s… a delicate situation,” Barry pressed his fingertips together and examined the ceiling. Willy rolled his eyes in disgust.

            “Hey! Fathers are responsible for ensuring good nutrition for their children, too!” Henry argued. “For your information, in my house, I make most of the meals!”

            Willy folded his arms again and looked at Henry thoughtfully. “Huh. Bear, you mentioned you wanted to try to keep your boy in Faerun too, right?”

            Barry brightened considerably. “Oh, yes, that would be ideal.”

            “Fine. New offer. Hen can stay here and deal with the girly shit so the kids don’t starve, as long as he gives up all authority over his own sons. God knows he doesn’t have much anyway, does he?”

            “Oh, certainly not,” Barry chuckled, opening his arms to Henry. “Come, Hen. Is this not preferable? You may remain with your sons, and have the benefit of living under my rules again. Wouldn’t that be easier? You know you always worried far too much about decisions you had no business making in the first place.”

            Henry looked horrified. “No! No, I did everything I could to get away from you! I don’t want anything to do with you! My sons… you don’t deserve my sons! Give them back! GIVE THEM BACK!” Henry’s skin rippled, and pulsed, and suddenly Henry turned into a goddamn bear.

            “YAY, DAD!” Lark and Sparrow cheered from the doorway as Henry charged at Barry Oak. Barry looked to be readying himself to dodge, but Henry changed direction at the last moment and barrelled right by him, skidding to a halt in front of his sons. He growled and hunkered down, clearly offering his back. Lark and Sparrow wasted no time in grabbing hold of the bear’s yellow-brown fur to hoist themselves up, heedless of bear-Henry’s grunts of pain at every tug.

            As Barry reacted to this turn of events by shapeshifting into a majestic and terrifyingly massive moose, and Nick looked at the other boys. He pulled something out of his pocket and threw it on the ground where it exploded into a cloud of smoke, which quickly mingled with the haze of smoke already in the air from the burning tapestry and lowered visibility considerably. “SCATTER!” Nick screamed, and the boys (and Henry the bear) all took off in different directions.

            “YOU HEARD NICK, SCATTER!” Glenn yelled at the other dads, all coughing in the smoke cloud because they lacked Glenn’s hard-baked smoke immunity. Ron, Dennis, Paeden and Darryl immediately began to move as well. Glenn ran into the smoke cloud in the direction he last saw Nick, and immediately smacked into another, much taller person. There was a sharp, clattering sound as if something had fallen on the floor. “Yo, the fuck?”

            “Oh, it’s you.”

            Glenn bristled. “Dad. Get the fuck out of my way.”

            “Whatever, I don’t give a shit.” Bill Close shrugged and walked away, vanishing back into the smoke. Seriously? That was it? Glenn’s stomach turned cold, and he stared at the place where his father had been standing until the smoke finally overwhelmed him enough to force him to blink. He bent down to try sucking in some of the cleaner air at ground level to regroup. While down there, Glen spotted a strange, yellow orb sitting near his shoe. He picked it up. It looked kind of cool. He pocketed it.

            “NICK!” Glenn yelled. “NICK, WHERE’D YOU GO, KID?”

*

            The Library stood out in the field with the army, feeling a touch of concern. The morning mist had dissipated, and the sunny weather contrasted with the dark clouds hanging over the distant Castle Ravenloft rather starkly. Erin O’Neil was replanting and re-rooting the bits of grass that Ron had pulled out of the ground earlier, muttering angrily the whole time. Darryl was standing next to him silently. He had been pretty quiet the whole time the other dads had been gone. At first the Library had been fine with that. Darryl’s careless comment had hurt, as unfortunate as that was to admit, and he had wanted some time to calm himself down with his books. Now, however, the Library knew that his pet was still pretty butt-hurt over being left out. He had to do something about that, the silent treatment was starting to irritate him.

            “Darryl?” The Library tried, placing a hand hesitantly on his pet’s shoulder. Darryl’s shoulders stiffened under his touch, but he didn’t respond. “Hey, look. I know you aren’t happy about being left out, and you’re probably pretty worried about that dragon over there. You got pretty shaky when it showed up. I did notice, you know.” Darryl made a strange whining noise, and shrugged non-committally. The Library sighed and placed another hand on Darryl’s other shoulder, massaging both. To his delight, Darryl almost immediately relaxed under the pressure. Maybe he wasn’t as angry as the Library feared? “Well, we know the dragon only knocked the bridge out, and we saw those little people dots make it to the other side before that happened. Everyone’s still alright for now, probably. All they need to do is kill one person, most likely, and then we’ll be able to swoop in and save them!”

            “Yeah, uh, yeah,” Darryl’s voice squeaked at first before shaking out back to his normal timber. “But maybe we should move a bit closer? So we’re better able to swoop in on short notice?”

            The Library’s grip tightened. “Yeah, I don’t need you getting any ideas about running in to fight a dragon. You’re staying where you’re safe.” The Library hummed thoughtfully and leaned in closer to Darryl’s ear, blowing a little hot air over it. Darryl jolted in his grip, but he didn’t let him move an inch. “If you’re stressed about it, I could always take you behind one of those trees over there and help you blow off steam, hmm?”

            “Nope! Fuck! I can’t do this!” Darryl yelped, though his voice sounded deeply, horrifically, wrong. The Library let go of his shoulders like hot coals as his pet turned around with a huge, immensely awkward grin on his face that didn’t look right at all.

            “Oh my god, SCAM?!” The Library took in too sharp of a breath and immediately choked on it, shaking out every limb he had stroked Darryl with in the last half hour as if he could knock his cousin’s contamination off them. “What the fuck- you were Darryl this whole-? Wait but then that means…” The Library looked at Castle Ravenloft and the dragon flying around inside its barrier with terror and rage both gnawing at his insides. “GATHER THE TROOPS, WE’RE GOING TO THE CASTLE!”

            “Uh, okay, calm down there cousin.”

            “NO! NO!” The Library wagged a finger in front of Scam’s nose. “You, don’t talk. Take Darryl’s face off before I EAT it, and if you get these morons ready to attack within five minutes, I’LL THINK ABOUT NOT RIPPING YOUR ARMS OFF!”

            “Does it help if I have a plan?”

            “NO!”

            “Geez, alright, I’m going… it was only a half plan anyway…” Scam muttered, his skin already shedding off he stomped over to his troops. The Library, meanwhile, dialed his attention into his pet. Sure enough, Darryl was in the castle. The Library didn’t even stop to think before he hoisted control of his pet’s hand and foot, stopping him dead from whatever he was doing. He could feel the sole of Darryl’s shoe tear open as he forced his foot-mouth wide with the strength of his rage, because there was NO WAY he wasn’t giving his pet a piece of his mind.

            “DARRYL, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH TROUBLE YOU’RE IN!” The Library screamed, his voice exiting both his own mouth and his remote mouth in equal volume. From his distant eye, he could see Darryl looking down at him through a haze of smoke. He looked terrified.

            “Library? Shit, okay, we’re in a bad way here. Let my foot go, cause- AH!” Darryl fell out of view as a gnarled fist entered the Library’s field of vision, punching his pet in the face and knocking him to the ground. A distant cry of ‘DAD’ could be heard in the background, and the Library turned Darryl’s hand around rapidly to see what was going on. But there was too much movement, and smoke everywhere. The Library took in another sharp breath and let go of the connection. He took two long strides to catch up with Scam and grabbed his shoulder. He had already re-adopted his Glenn disguise, the obviously infatuated fool.

            “No time for the army, we have to go NOW!”

            “Now? But, I’ve got mercenaries…”

            “They’re under attack, and if we don’t go now, both our would-be idiot boyfriends will be dead. You run ahead, I’m on your heels!”           The Library practically threw Scam in the direction of the castle, and Scam only gave him a worried look before taking off at full speed, his smoke clouds left behind him white and billowing. The Library shook out his limbs, and took off at a run as well. He hoped Scam would have figured out how to get in by the time he got there, because he didn’t think they had time to waste.

*

            Glenn couldn’t find Nick, and the smoke was starting to overcome him. He saw Darryl hit the ground hard after Willy hit him in the back of side of the head. Grant had yelled, and Willy had made a grab for him, but Glenn managed to give him a decent smack with his nun-chucks, and Grant was able to slip back into the veil of smoke. Glenn had taken off running before Willy could make a return swipe, and the next thing he ran into face-first was the front door. He pushed it open with all the strength he could muster, and could have cried when fresh air hit his face. A mountain of smoke billowed into the open air above him as he stepped out onto the doorstep. The dragon wasn’t between him and the exit now, instead sitting menacingly up on the roof, but the bridge was still out. A dead end. Fuck.

            Glenn needed to think. He pulled out a joint and lit it with trembling hands, sucking in the fumes and idly thinking about the irony of escaping a smoke-filled room only to jam different smoke into his lungs. Inside the hall he could hear shouting, loud bear growls, bleating, screaming… Nick was probably fine. He was a smart kid. He probably went to hide somewhere, right?”

            “Finally! Oh… fuck.” Glenn blinked blearily as Grant Wilson emerged from the smoky atrium and swore as he stood staring at the broken land bridge. The kid looked up at Glenn next, biting his lip like a carbon copy of his dad. “Mr. Close, right?”

            “Glenn,” Glenn muttered, thinking about stabbing out his joint. Maybe after the next drag. Or the one after that.

            “Uh, did you um, did you see my dad anywhere, maybe?”

            “I saw Willy clock him a good one and he went down. Didn’t see him after that.”

            Grant’s eyes widened and he clutched his shirt over his chest. “I-I’ve gotta- I’m going back in there.”

            “Woah, no you’re not!” Glenn grabbed the collar of Grant’s shirt, dragging him back from the door. “You don’t run back into a burning building, little dude!”

            “But my dad…” Grant’s face was twisting, and he struggled in short, jerky movements. It was like watching someone tweak out, and Glenn wasn’t sure he liked seeing a kid move like a junkie.

            “Just wait out here with me, kid. I’m sure Darryl’s fine. He’s a tough guy. He’ll be out here any second and uh, and we’ll figure it out from there?”

            “Yeah, uh, that makes sense, I guess.” Grant looked back at the broken bridge, and then up at the roof. “Uh, is that a dragon?”

            “Huh? Oh, yeah. It hasn’t attacked yet, though. It’s chill, I think.” Glenn frowned. His hand moved down to his pocket, which was bulging out for some reason. Oh yeah, that ball thing from earlier. Glenn pulled it out and tossed it up in the air and caught it a couple times, trying to get some nerves out.

            “If you say so…” Suddenly, a voice yelled from a distance and both Glenn and Grant squinted across the chasm at a tiny figure standing on the edge of the barrier. “Uh, why are you over there and here at the same time?” Grant asked flatly.

            “SCAM? WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE? I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” Glenn shouted. Scam shouted something back, but Glenn still couldn’t make it out. “YOU GOTTA BE LOUDER MAN, I CAN’T HEAR!” Scam shouted again, but Glenn still couldn’t make it out. The noise from the castle was too loud. Glenn held up a finger for Scam to wait a second, and Scam put his hands on his hips while Glenn pushed the door shut.

            “Hey, what about the others?” Grant sounded concerned.

            “Little dude, if I could open that door, so can they.” Glenn yelled for Scam to go ahead, and this time he could just make out the words.

            “DID YOU GET YOUR KID?” Scam shouted, and pointed at Grant.

            “NAH, THIS IS DARRYL’S KID.”

            “OH. THINGS WENT KIND OF BAD, HUH?”

            “YEAH, KINDA!”

            “DO YOU WANT TO BAIL?”

            “WHAT?”

            “DO YOU WANNA BAIL? LIKE, WE CAN GET OUT OF HERE, REGROUP OR SOMETHING?”

            Glenn ran his tongue over his teeth and thought about it. Nick was probably fine. The fire wasn’t that big. Even if he got recaptured, they weren’t going to kill him. Things went pretty sour this time, but they could get another shot if they left now. Dads shouldn’t do other dads dirty, but they’d be up shit creek if all of them got captured or killed. “YEAH, I’D BAIL.”

            “OKAY, UH, I GUESS I’M GONNA TRY TO GET OVER THERE? STAND BACK!” Scam turned around and ran back from the hole in the barrier so far Glenn could barely see him anymore.

            “Uh, what’s he doing?” Grant asked.

            “I don’t know, but uh, let’s do what he said just in case.” Glenn pushed Grant over to one side of the doorstep. They then watched as the dot that was Scam Likely began growing at an alarming rate as he sped toward them. At the edge of the chasm, the running figure leapt, and Glenn’s jaw dropped as Scam Likely began straight up jumping the entire length of the chasm. That’s when the dragon descended.

            “OH, FUCK, THE DRAGON!” Scam screamed as the dragon hurtled forward, jaws wide. Glenn’s hand tightened around the ball in his hand and he reacted without thinking.

            “NO! STOP!” Glenn yelled, and to everyone’s wonder, the dragon stopped dead in mid-air, only hovering in place as it slowly turned to face Glenn. Unfortunately, it was still in Scam’s flight trajectory, so he ended up smacking into the dragon’s back leg and holding on for dear life. “Holy shit, uhhh, don’t attack! Um, can you fly Scam over to us?”

            Without hesitation, the dragon flew toward Glenn and lowered his leg far enough for Scam to reach the ground. He stared at Glenn in wonder. “How the fuck did you get an orb of dragon-kind?”

            “Uuuuuuuhhhh….” Glenn looked down at the ball in his hand. “I… scammed it off someone?”

            Scam stared at Glenn very, very hard for a while as though trying to tell if he was lying. But Glenn had a great bluff check. “Huh. Bravo, I guess. Anyway, you wanna ride the dragon out of here, then?”

            “Sure, but what about the barrier?”

            “What about MY DAD?!” Grant burst from nearby, but was ignored.

            “Uh, let me see the orb for a second.” Scam reached out a grabby hand. Glenn wasn’t sure it was a great idea, but he handed it over anyway. He had a gut feeling that Scam wasn’t out to get them this time, and if he couldn’t trust his gut he couldn’t trust anything. Scam examined the orb for a couple of a seconds. “Wow. Okay, so, great news. Usually a barrier like this needs a human life to maintain it, but it looks like these bozos used this orb of dragonkind to do it instead. So if we smash it, the barrier comes down. And the dragon’s released too, I guess.”

            “Sounds good, let’s get out of here. Come on Grant, we’re gonna ride a fucking DRAGON! How metal is that?”

            “But my dad-“

            “We’ll come back for him after, we just need to regroup! You saw how it fell apart in there!” Glenn pushed, grabbing the kid and passing him to Scam, who hoisted him onto the dragon’s neck and followed suit, giving Glenn a hand up after. Grant struggled to get back down, but there was no way the kid was going back in there. Darryl sure as hell wouldn’t want that.

            “Okay, so the dragon will bring us across, I’m gonna smash the orb, and uuuuhhhh, hopefully the dragon will be grateful we saved it?” Scam said through gritted teeth.

            “What happens if it’s not?” Glenn asked, Grant finally giving up his struggle as the ground fell away beneath them.

            “We miiiiiiiiight get eaten. Maybe. Let’s go!” Scam said in a hurry as the dragon took off at top speed, and he crushed the orb to dust in his hand.

*

            The Library arrived at the edge of the chasm just in time to see the barrier come down and the large yellow dragon swoop overhead, roaring loudly. Scam shot him a peace sign from atop the creature’s neck, with Glenn and one of the children riding behind him. No sign of Darryl, though. The Library grit his fangs as he cast his awareness back to his pet’s limbs. Darryl was still out cold, no question, but the smoke had cleared somewhat. The room was in shambles. Soot covered the floor, and the set of doors leading further into the castle hung open. He saw a child run by the door followed by Ron, but they were out of sight quickly. He could hear some yelling in the distance, but that was it. The Library groaned, grabbed hold of a boulder jutting from the ground to brace himself, and started stretching out his tongue. This wouldn’t be a pleasant use of excess flesh, but should have enough to breach the gap, at least.

            It was strenuous. After he got his tongue across the gorge, he had to thread it through the door handle at a distance and pull the thing open. He definitely pulled some muscles, but he managed to keep grip on the door as he jumped into the chasm and tried retracting his tongue as fast as possible as he did so. He didn’t hit the bottom of the chasm, but he did manage to hit the other side of the gorge hard enough to scrap up several of his palms. This made scaling up the side of the cliff, using his tongue as a safety rope, pretty unpleasant, too. But when he reached the top and was finally able to tuck his tongue away, it was worth it to run across the castle’s blackened cobblestones to Darryl’s fallen form. The Library fell to his knees and gathered Darryl’s head and torso into his lap to check the damage. There was a hearty bruise blossoming over the side of his face, easily fixed with a brief healing spell, though it may still be a while before he woke up. From what the Library could tell he was breathing fine, so he would most likely be okay. The Library breathed a sigh of relief as he prepared to stretch out his jaw and put Darryl away for the long journey home, when a deep voice cut through the room.

            “Urgh, gay.”

            The Library looked up at Willy Stampler with narrowed eyes. “Can I help you?”

            Willy looked at the Library’s battered and over-strained limbs, then at Darryl’s unconscious body, and shrugged. “You can just take him and leave. Like I said, I don’t need him. This worked out okay, actually. Lost the fucking dragon, but that guy and his son aren’t necessary for what we’re doing, and Glenn’s as much of a space cadet as his dumbass dad is, and Ron’s… urgh…” Willy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I don’t care where they ran off too. We still got the important kids. Maybe Barry will stop bitching now that he’s got his own kid back, too. Just get out of here and don’t come back.”

            “I don’t plan to,” the Library said tersely. While making full, unblinking eye contact with Willy Stampler, he laid Darryl out, unhinged his jaw, and swallowed Darryl down the hatch feet-first. Willy’s eyes narrowed further at first, then widened, and finally he looked away quickly as the Library finished and made a very audible gulping sound when Darryl vanished from view.

            “That was disgusting.” Willy muttered.

            “That’s your opinion.” The Library sniffed, getting back to his feet. He glared down at Willy from his full height, and got the feeling Willy did NOT appreciate looking up at him. The Library cocked his head to one said and slowly, a creepy little smile slid onto his face. “Hmm, can I interest you in a book that might help you build yourself a better barrier for this castle than the last one?”

            Willy frowned. “Why would you offer me that?”

            The Library shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t want Darryl getting back in here. Clearly it didn’t agree with him, poor lamb.”

            “Whatever. Gimmie the book, then.”

            “Well, I will require one other thing in return for letting you borrow my book. Knowledge for knowledge, you must tell me something I don’t know that I find interesting.”

            Willy Stampler seemed to size the Library up for a moment, then smirked. “I got something better. Get your book ready, I’ll be back.” He turned on his heel and left the room. The Library frowned, but dutifully pulled the book Magical Barriers and You from his guts (it was resting under Darryl’s unconscious butt, the silly thing), and waited. When Willy came back, the Library’s eyes widened to see Paeden squirming and sobbing body under his arm. He was thrown carelessly to the floor at the Library’s feet, where he immediately curled into a ball.

            “What would I want that for?” the Library asked, completely lost.

            “That boy there isn’t what he seems.” Willy gave a tight-lipped smile. “If you take him out of here with you, you’re doing me a favour. And if you figure out why he matters, you’ll get plenty of interesting knowledge out of him.”

            The Library frowned. “My cousin’s the one that’s fond of riddles, and I prefer to get my knowledge from books, not boys.”

            “Well-“

            “LIBRARY!” Mark Likely staggered in from the hall next, body still pink but his unearthly glow was visibly missing. He was also bleeding profusely from a gaping, empty eye socket as he fell to the ground. “G-get me out of here! That Bill guy can fucking- he sucked something out of me! Out of my eye!”

            Willy’s eyebrows rose, and he looked excited as the Library’s concern grew over Mark’s pleading form. He might be better off taking an out while he had it, and by the way Willy was looking at them that window of opportunity may be closing fast. “Yep, okay, that’s fine!” the Library nodded, tossing Willy the book as he gathered Paeden into his arms and swallowed the kid as well, probably before he realised what was going on. Given the sharp feeling in his stomach seconds later, he had probably stabbed him the second he landed in his stomach. Great. As Willy swore, picking the book up from where it had slid out of his hands and skidded along the floor, the Library grabbed Mark along the side of his face. “Mark, I’m sorry, you gotta do your thing.”

            Mark whined. “But… but I don’t want to! I got so strong this time!”

            “Mark, these people are nuts. You get us out of here right now, or they might make it so you can’t come back next time. You don’t want that, do you? You need to regenerate your eye, anyway. It’ll be fine.”

            “What the fuck are you creeps talking about?” Willy asked, taking a step toward them. His hand was raised, and a purple aura surrounded it. The Library grimaced, he didn’t like the odds.

            “You have two weeks to return your library book!” The Library said cheerfully before looking at his cousin with pleading eyes. “Mark…”

            “God, FINE!” Mark grabbed the Library, closed his remaining eye, and exploded in a supernova of energy. The Library braced against the feeling of his entire body discorporating,  Mark’s death-blow teleporting them in a flash all the way across the forgotten realms.

The Library sat alone beside a construction site with an infant crying in his lap, and more stabbing pains in his stomach than before. It took him a couple of seconds to re-orient himself. That had been quite the trip. The Library turned to the nearest random villager who was pointing at him and gaping. The people around him were turning and seemed agitated too. You would almost think they were annoyed with him appearing in their midst out of nowhere or something. But who would be annoyed by an unexpected visit from the Library? Then again, these villagers did look a bit familiar… oh.

            “No way, is this Eroville?” The Library looked down at the infant in his lap and picked it up to cradle carefully in front of his face. “Well, well, well, Mark. Looks like you did a lot better with your aiming than last time! Tell you what, I’ll get you a lollipop in a couple days when you’re big enough to eat one.”

Chapter 15: Comforting

Summary:

Darryl wakes up and learns what has occurred in his absence. Then he gets spanked.

Notes:

Darryl gets spanked in this chapter. Because I wanted to. There was no reason for it. I just wanted to write about the Library spanking Darryl, and then I did it. I have too much power. Goddamn it. Maybe I was just sad that the last two chapters lacked sexy times.

15 Comforting

            When Darryl woke up in his bed in the servant’s bedroom of the Library’s keep, he wondered if the entire Castle Ravenloft escapade had been a dream. The last thing he remembered was pain exploding across the side of his head. He figured if it was real, then he must have been knocked out, but he had no way of telling how long he was out for. Assuming that all actually happened, he must’ve been out for at least a couple days if the Library had time to get him all the way back to his castle. That was worrying. That was really worrying, actually. He had to find the Library.

            Swinging his legs around and sitting up on the edge of the mattress, Darryl was surprised at how alert he felt. Against the odds, he felt better rested than he probably should have after being unconscious for days. Someone had clearly cleaned him up in his sleep, too, which wasn’t great but it was nice to not feel grit in his hair and dirt on his skin. His clothes had been changed too, instead of his sweaty tunic and cargo shorts, he had been put in a soft, blue robe. He couldn’t see any other clothing options around to change into, and he was definitely nude under it, but it was thick and warm, and there were slippers on the floor. So Darryl accepted the situation and made sure the knot at the front of the robe was tightened and doubled up on before he opened the door and peered out into the empty hallway.

The cold from the flagstone floor seeped into the bottom of his slippers, and Darryl shivered his way down the corridor, giving one fruitless glance into the vacant kitchen before continuing on to the main hall. He pushed open the door to said hall, and the first thing he clocked was that the piles of books were different. As he recalled, the Library had packed them all away before they had left to flag down the van, and it seemed he decided to rearrange them when he emptied them onto the floor again. This time they seemed to be in three distinct, massive piles. One of the piles, the one pushed up against the wall nearest to him, was definitely kids’ books and comics, but the other two looked pretty similar as far as Darryl could tell. Both the other piles were much larger and in the center of the room, tall enough that Darryl couldn’t see over or around them.

            Darryl glanced down at his hand, and nearly jumped out of his skin to see the Library’s eye sitting there, staring at him placidly. “Woah, Library! Uh,” Darryl spoke in a quiet voice, as though afraid to disturb the books. Really, he just wasn’t sure he had the wherewithal for full volume just yet after everything that happened. “Um, I’m in the main hall. You in here?” Two blinks. “No? Are you outside?” One blink. “Okay, I’m coming.” And Darryl tiptoed out of the main hall and out the front door. The courtyard was much as he remembered, though to his surprise it looked like a couple of his herbs had sprouted in the garden patch. Otherwise it was as expansive and barren as ever, the slap of his slippers against the dirt adding to the desolate atmosphere. He couldn’t spot the Library, so Darryl looked down at his hand again. The eye was still there. “I’m outside, where are you?” The eyeball looked up, and Darryl followed the line of sight. The Library was sitting up on the sloped roof above the main door, knees drawn to his chest and grinning down at him. Beside him was a sleeping child. A familiar sleeping child.

            “Hey! Is that Paeden?” Darryl yelled up at the figures above him. This probably should have woken up a sleeping child, but Paeden had proven capable of sleeping through just about anything.

            “Yep!” The Library called back, popping the ‘p’. “He was a gift!”

            Darryl’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean he was a ‘gift’?”

            “Well, when I had to break into Castle Ravenloft to save your sorry unconscious butt, Willy Stampler simply insisted I take this young lad with me! I mean, I didn’t really want him, but Willy’s a hard man to say ‘no’ to!” The Library trailed off on an awkward laugh.

            Darryl ran his tongue over the back of his teeth. That sort of made sense. Hadn’t Willy left Paeden at the Bull E. Wog’s before to get rid of him? If Willy didn’t want Paeden around, handing him off to the first monster he saw wasn’t beyond belief. “Okay, well, thanks for not killing him or something, I guess?”

            “Why would I kill him?” The Library seemed flabbergasted. “Did he burn a book when I wasn’t looking?”

            “No!” Darryl said quickly, “No just… forget it. I don’t know. Why are you letting him sleep on the roof?”

            The Library looked back at Paeden for a moment. “Well, he was getting kind of rambunctious and stab-happy and wouldn’t calm down for story time, so I sent him outside to burn it off. He’s been climbing the walls for hours. He was asleep when I got out here so I figured if I hung around him here I could stop him from rolling off the roof.” As if to demonstrate, Paeden made loud snore and shifted, starting to slide down the slope and only stopped by one of the Library’s limbs, which grabbed the boy’s ankle and gently pulled him back up into his original position.

            “Why wouldn’t you just pick him up and put him somewhere safer?”

            “I don’t know, it’s kind of nice up here. Thought I’d have a sit and think about some stuff.”
            “What kind of stuff?”

            “Oh, stuff such as suitable punishments for sneaking off after I told you not to follow my cousin’s ill-conceived advice again.” The Library leered down at Darryl, who swallowed audibly.

            “Uh, hmm. I’m sorry?” Darryl tried, wincing at the Library’s sharp hack of a laugh.

            “You will be.”

            “Should I be running?”

            “Not just yet,” the Library shook his head. “I assume you want to know what happened after you passed out? I could tell you.”

            That was a bigger offer than Darryl had expected. “I assumed it wasn’t good, things got pretty rough in there. Did any of the kids get out? Other than Paeden, I mean.” The Library leaned forward and his tongue began snaking down from his mouth to the ground, coming to dangle nearly at Darryl’s feet. The dad looked at the tongue curiously and held out his palms in question.

            The Library rolled his eyes hard, his mouth not moving along with the words coming from his throat. “Grab my tongue, I’ll pull you up here.”

            “What? Why?”

            “Because it’s not exactly good news, so you might want to sit down for this. I know you don’t like me, but if you want to know what happened, you’ll humor me.”

            Darryl flinched at the bitterness in the Library’s tone, but he figured that there wasn’t much harm in being up on the roof versus the ground. He grabbed hold of the Library’s tongue, only to have the end of it instantly spring to life and wrap tightly around his waist, hoisting him up into the air and onto the small sloped roof, which was more of a wooden awning really. As soon as he was released, Darryl scuttled backwards up the slope until his back was against the stone wall. This thing was steeper than it looked! The Library seemed to notice his distress and threw a couple limbs around Darryl’s shoulder to hold him to his side, and the monster felt solid enough that Darryl’s immediate worry of sliding off the roof dissipated.

            “Uh, thanks,” Darryl muttered, doing his best not to relax too much into the Library’s hold. “So what happened after I was knocked out?”

            The Library hummed as he looked out over the empty courtyard for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he launched into a spiel about the immediate aftermath of Darryl’s concussion. He detailed Scam revealing his deception, running to the rescue, watching Scam fly off on a dragon with Glenn and one of the kids (though he hushed Darryl when he tried to ask which kid it was). Then he breezed by making his way across the chasm, finding Darryl, swallowing him safely away, trading Willy a lent book on magical barriers in return for Paeden, and getting Mark to teleport them back to Eroville.

            “What? Mark could have gotten us out that easily the whole time?!” Darryl snapped.

            “Yes, though it’s not something he likes doing, since his body can’t really handle the power needed for that level of spellcraft on his own. He had to reset himself from just sending me across the realm with him. I’m sure my cousin was hoping that he would give in and do that before everything went to shit, but I think Scam sometimes overestimates his ability to predict his brother’s actions.” The Library shook his head. “It’s unfortunate, but I sent Mark back to Scam to recover, so he should be fine, at least.”

            Darryl’s lips parted as he thought through what the Library had said, and he felt a lump growing in his throat as he realized how bad things actually were. “Wait, so, the only ones who got out were me, Glenn, Paeden, and one of the kids?”

            “And Mark!”

            “I don’t give a crap about Mark!” Darryl was breathing hard through his nose, feeling himself growing hot under the collar. “So not only are all the kids still in there, but they got Henry and Ron? What the fuck- what are they gonna do with them? We have to get them out! We-“

            “Calm down! You’re not going anywhere, darling, especially after that stunt you and Scam pulled. I’m still rather angry at you, you know!”

            “I don’t give a fuck! My friends are trapped with those bastards, my son’s still in danger!”

            “Oh, no, Grant’s fine.”

            “What?” Darryl’s rage flagged instantly as he stared at the Library in confusion.

            “Yeah, Scam made it out with a kid, right? It was your son.”

            “M-my… my son?” Darryl couldn’t even find words to be mad at the Library for withholding that news until now. “Where is he? Is he still with Scam? I want to see him!”

            The Library snorted and ruffled Darryl’s hair. “Yes, I’m sure you do. He’s not with Scam, I traded little Mark for him when Scam stopped by to visit. Last I saw him he was reading in the main hall. You failed to notice him, I take it?”

            “If I saw him, I wouldn’t’ve come out here!” Darryl was doing his best to wriggle free of the Library’s embrace, edging down the roof. “Let me down!”

            It seemed that even Paeden couldn’t sleep through Darryl’s motor-mouth any longer. The eight year old grunted and rubbed at his eyes, giving a huge yawn as he sat up and looked at the Library and Darryl. “What the hell, were you guys watching me sleep? That’s creepy. Oh, Darryl’s awake! Good to see you, my man. Did ya say hi to Grant, yet?”

            Darryl gave Paeden a pained smile and a little fist bump in greeting. “Nope! Just about to do that, kiddo. Uh, how’s Grant, by the way? Did he seem normal to you?”

            “Dude, I never met him before. How would I know?”

            “Right, sorry, just feels like you’ve always been around, you know? But does he seem okay, to you?”

            Paeden shrugged. “He’s quiet. Been reading a lot. Kind of a nerd, I guess. Spent a lot of time sitting in your room staring at you while you were sleeping. Is that normal?”

            Didn’t sound normal, but Darryl would take anything if it meant getting to see his son. He petitioned the Library again, and this time the monster relented, lowering both Darryl and Paeden safely to the ground. Darryl took off the second he was released, nearly losing his slippers in his haste to get to his missing son as fast as possible. The doors of the main hall swung open easily for him, and from this angle he saw what he missed before. Grant was tucked away behind one of the larger piles of books, nose buried deep in a thick tome with a dark purple cover. Yelling his son’s name loud enough for his voice to reverberate around the walls, Grant was startled out of his reading stupor. Strangely, he seemed more concerned than excited to see his dad running at him.

            “Jesus, Dad? Are you okay? You were in bed a long time, I don’t know if you should be running this soon aft-AH!” Grant was cut off by his dad grabbing him under the armpits and crushing him in hug as he spun around the room. “Dad! Geez, put me down! You got hurt really bad, you shouldn’t strain yourself!”

            On his last spin Darryl’s lower back began to hurt, but he covered it up with a laugh as he set his son down. “Aw, your old man’s fine! How are you? I mean, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through but uh, you doing okay? We can talk about it, if you want?”

            Grant’s face became carefully blank as he cast his eyes down to the book in his hand. Darryl could read the title on it now: Effective Healing Spells for Novices. “I’m fine. Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, or who this Library guy really is. But if you’re awake and able to walk around and stuff, we should probably start figuring out how to get back in there to save the other kids, right?”

            “Uhh, well, I don’t think we are going to do that, kiddo.” Darryl ruffled Grant’s hair, and pretended not to be hurt when his son ducked away from his touch. “I mean, yeah we have to save them for sure, but there’s no way you’re going back in there. I guess there’s plenty of books here if you want to do some research to help out somehow. You’ve got a good one from what I can see, healing’s a good thing to know about. You know I learned a thing or two about splinting a broken bone when I was in boy scouts.”

            “I know Dad, geez.” Grant ran a hand through his hair. It was shorter than Darryl remembered it being, had those bastards at Castle Ravenloft cut it? Darryl wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, so he didn’t ask.

            “My point is, I’m not about to send you back in there after everything. If you want to help, you can do research on uh, good spells for sneaking into castles? If that’s a thing? But I think when it comes down to going back in there, you’d better leave that to me. Actually, if I can figure out how to send you back to Earth that would probably be even better.”

            Grant’s eyes widened. “But… no. No, you can’t send me back to Earth without you!”

            “Look kiddo, I know you wouldn’t want that, and I don’t really want to send you back alone either. I’m just letting you know it’s a possibility. It’s not your responsibility to save anyone, that’s all on me.”

            “Yeah, uh,” Grant frowned, seeming to pick his next words with more care than Darryl was used to seeing from him. “Paeden said you weren’t supposed to be with everyone on the rescue mission, they told you that you should stay behind, and you came anyway, didn’t you?”

            “Oh, he told you about that, huh?” Darryl felt a rush of embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, well, your dad’s not perfect, right? I just… I really wanted to be there to help get you out, you know?”

            “But they told you to stay behind, and you didn’t. You just knew that you needed to be there, right?”

            Darryl winced and got down on one knee to put a hand on his son’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch away this time, which was heartening. “Saying I knew I needed to be there is a little… it’s not exactly what happened. I didn’t know I needed to be there, I just-“

            “But it was a gut feeling, right? Well I have a gut feeling that-“

            “No, son, let me finish.” Darryl wet his lips before going on. “I made a mistake. I wanted to be there so bad to help you out, and I ended up really hurt. Everything ended up going wrong, you know? And I don’t think that was all on me being there when I shouldn’t have been, but I still messed up pretty bad. Learn from your dad’s mistake, and know that when I tell you that it isn’t safe for you to go in there, I’m saying that because I know from experience that it’s pointless to go in and get yourself really hurt just to save your own pride, okay?”

            Grant bit his lip and the look in his eyes was strange for Darryl to witness. There was still a spark of childish frustration in them, but that was buried under layers of weariness that Darryl was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to deal with until he was sixteen and trying to balance homework with a part-time job and extra-curricular activities. “Yeah, sure dad, okay.”

            While he wouldn’t say he was fully convinced by that declaration, Darryl decided to drop the subject. Considering that going after the other dads was going to hinge rather hard on either somehow talking the Library into letting them try again, or staging another escape attempt, there would be plenty of time to work out how to keep Grant out of that mess. Instead, Darryl decided to grill his son for a little more information than what the Library gave him, and his son was at least a bit more forthcoming about the hard facts. Grant had been rescued by Scam Likely with Glenn. Glenn had managed to charm the dragon into giving them a ride to Scam Likely’s weird house that looked kind of like a bouncy castle. Scam left them there with a bunch of junk food for about half a day, came back driving the van, and then took Glenn and Grant to the Library’s castle. Scam and the Library had talked a lot while Paeden stabbed Glenn in the ankles. Then the Library finally took Grant in to see his dad, and Scam left with a weird looking baby that the Library had with him and Glenn had gone with him too, though Grant was kind of vague on why Glenn didn’t stick around for Darryl to wake up.

            “Uh, well, Scam would probably be more likely to help him try to get his son back than the Library would.” Darryl suspected there might be more to it than that, at least on Scam’s end, but he didn’t want to play too hard in that space. “How long have you been here, then?”

            “About five-ish days I think?”

            “What? Jesus, I would’ve thought I’d be starving if I was out that long.”

            “Uhh, well the Library went into your room a lot with food and cast a bunch of spells on you, so I think that was him feeding you? But sometimes he’d come out covered in blood, too, so I was… I was kind of afraid things were worse than people were telling me. I was trying to, uh,” Grant gestured at the book he was holding. “A-anyway, it’s fine, you’re awake now, so… yeah.”

            “Oh, he got more food?” Darryl brightened up. “Hey, how about we go to the kitchen and see if I can whip us up some sandwiches or something to celebrate, huh?”

            “Uh, no… no that’s okay, I’m not really hungry. You can go ahead, though,” Grant sank back into the spot he was sitting in before, opening his book again. Darryl just stood there, looking down at his son for a while.  Grant was different. He knew he had to be, Darryl was the cause of it, had the evidence of the change burned into his eyes as the moment the blood-pact burst into flames and revealed his son’s broken expression behind it. Darryl had fucked up so badly. He’d gotten tricked into that stupid blood pact, he’d traumatized his son to get out of it, and he hadn’t even managed to save Grant from that fucking castle, had he? Scam and Glenn had saved him, and Darryl had needed the Library to drag his dumb ass out of there.

            “Okay, Grant. If you change your mind, I’ll be around. Okay?”

            “Yeah, okay dad. Thanks.” The ‘thanks’ felt tacked on as an obligatory afterthought, and Darryl left before he could somehow make things worse. He didn’t go to the kitchen, though. Instead he went back to his bedroom and sank back onto the bed he had just left, shucking his slippers onto the floor and lying back to stare at the ceiling. Grant was right. They couldn’t leave everyone in danger. But he wasn’t going to risk Grant getting put in danger again while trying to save the others. He’d been through way too much for a thirteen year old already. There had to be a way to send Grant back to Earth on his own. He could probably ask the Library for a book on it. He couldn’t see why the Library wouldn’t help with that, he only wanted Darryl after all. If anything, he would probably be happy to get Grant out of the way, and Darryl could always work on his own escape later.

            Darryl covered his face with his hands and let out a shaky sigh, trying and failing to forget how hurt his son had looked holding that book. Darryl was no genius, but he could read the situation enough to know Grant had thought it was up to him to find a way to save his dad’s life, and why? Because Darryl had fucked him over again. There was no getting around it. Ever since he had come to this world he couldn’t seem to do anything right by Grant. And what about when they got back to Earth? After all this shit, Grant will have to find out that his dad screwed up so bad that his mom wanted a divorce.

            “Knock knock.” Darryl’s eyes snapped open and he remembered he hadn’t closed his door. Taking up the whole doorframe was the thin body of the Library, who looked expectant for some reason.

            “Uh, come in?” The Library smiled and stepped into the room, shutting the door firmly behind him and striding over to sit on the bed as though he had every right to be there. Darryl sat up to make more room, and the Library continued to look expectant. “What’s up?”

            “Did you talk to your son?”

            “Yes?”

            “You’re satisfied that he’s healthy and unharmed?”

            “Er, kind of? I mean, he’s not doing great up here,” Darryl tapped his forehead. “But that makes sense after what he’s been through.” Darryl frowned, and added in a mumble, “What I put him through.”

            “Huh. But you agree that Grant has been saved?”

            “Uhh, yes?”

            “So what do we say?”

            Darryl stared at the Library blankly for a moment before he realised what he was asking for. “Thank you?”

            “For?”

            “Um… for…” Darryl racked his brain for what the fuck the Library did to help. “Bringing me back to the other dads? And getting me out of Ravenloft when I passed out? And…” He remembered what Grant had told him. “And keeping me alive when I was in a coma for a few days, I guess.”

            The Library smiled. “Ah well, I think I already took my payment for that last one, so don’t worry too much about that.”

            Darryl frowned. “What do you mean?” The Library wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips. Then Darryl remembered Grant mentioning the Library being covered in blood. “Hey! Were you eating parts of me while I was passed out?!”

            The Library leaned in and walked a couple of fingers up Darryl’s bare leg. “Maaaaaaaybe?”

            Darryl pulled his leg away and scowled. “What the hell?! Why the fuck would you do that? My son thought I was dying because you were wandering around covered in my blood, and meanwhile you were just stuffing your face!”

            The Library let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh but Darryl, how could I possibly resist taking advantage of you while you were so limp and pliable like that?”

            Darryl’s eyes widened and he leaned away from the monster in front of him. “You didn’t do anything else while I was asleep, did you?”

            “Like what?”

            “Like, I dunno… molest me or something.”

            The Library looked briefly scandalized. “What? No! Of course not! I’m not some beast! Besides, what would be the point of touching you like that if you weren’t awake to squirm around and pretend you don’t like it?”

            “You are still so fucking creepy. You know that, right?”

            “Guilty! But seriously, I helped save your son, and I was hoping you’d be willing to show me a little gratitude for that.” In seconds, the Library had grabbed Darryl’s shoulders and pushed him down on his back, hovering over him so that his fanged grin filled Darryl’s vision. Darryl tried grabbing at the Library’s wrists, and was rewarded by having another set of hands yank his away, pinning them down on the pillow on either side of his head. The burly dad’s heart sped up at the compromising position, and to Darryl’s dismay, his dick seemed to take interest in his predicament as it twitched under the robe that suddenly felt a little too warm.

            Darryl licked his lips as the Library’s crotch dropped onto his and gave him a most salacious grind, making his thoughts race for the gutter like a freight train. He never would’ve thought the Library would be able to arouse him like this, he wasn’t anywhere close to what he imagined his taste in men was, but after fooling around with him a bit he couldn’t deny that the prospect of a guaranteed orgasm was tempting. Especially when he felt kind of shitty about things at the moment. Even though he probably shouldn’t agree to anything like this because the Library had just admitted to eating bits of him while he was asleep and really didn’t want the Library to think that was okay. It couldn’t hurt to find out what the Library intended, though, right? “Um, what did you have in mind?”

            “You really want to know?” The Library asked as he traced a line down Darryl’s cheek to his neck. Darryl whined at the sharp nail, but nodded. “Hm, well to start with, I’d love to punish you for running off without permission and getting yourself hurt.” The Library leaned in to Darryl’s ear, his breath balmy as he added, “There must be a punishment for damaging library property, after all.”

            A shudder bloomed across Darryl’s shoulders and down his spine, but it came far more from anticipation than fear. When had the Library stopped feeling like a threat? He had just said he wanted to punish him! And called him property, too! But he had said it like that, so maybe Darryl might like this punishment? He and Carol had always been fairly vanilla in the bedroom, though after reading Fifty Shades of Grey, Carol had wanted to experiment with handcuffs. They’d abandoned that pretty fast though when Darryl had to go to the bathroom halfway through, gotten distracted when he noticed the faucet was leaking, and accidentally left Carol handcuffed to the headboard for almost an hour while he fixed it. He had asked her why she hadn’t called for help, but had to agree that it probably wasn’t worth potentially waking up Grant and having him witness his own mother like that. That experience was apparently enough to turn Carol off the idea of kink play entirely, and Darryl had respected that. But he remained kind of curious about it. “What kind of punishment?”

            “How do you feel about spanking?”

            “Spanking?” Darryl reeled a little as a vision of lying across the Library’s lap with his ass in the air assaulted his mind. “That’s uhh, that’s kind of a lot? I mean, maybe we could start smaller?”

            “Smaller than spanking?”

            “Like you could uh, maybe you could try a-a riding crop?” Darryl’s cheeks immediately flooded red as the words left his mouth. He turned his head away and chopped down on his tongue to prevent himself from saying something even worse.

            “A riding crop?” The Library sounded incredulous. “You think getting hit with a riding crop isn’t as bad as getting spanked with a bare hand?” Darryl couldn’t speak. He nodded reluctantly. The Library whistled. “Wow. You have more issues than I thought. Well unfortunately for you, I don’t have a riding crop on hand.”

            “I think there might be one out in the stable?”

            “Darryl, I’m not going to hit you with a dirty old riding crop that’s been sitting in a crumbling stable for twenty years. Not this time, anyway.” The Library took Darryl’s chin in hand, gently but firmly forcing him to retain eye contact. “Tell you what. Let’s say you agree to be punished. I will spank your delectable rump exactly, ooh, let’s say a good even ten times. After that, you can tell me if you think you deserve more punishment. If you do, you can tell me how you want to be punished next. But not with the dirty riding crop. Is that a good compromise?”

            The barbarian fought the Library’s grip for a second, but quickly gave up when the Library ground down against him again. It was hard to think through his arousal, but he tried his best to suss out if that was actually a compromise or not. “Uh, what if I don’t like the spanking, though?”

            “If you really don’t like it, I suppose I can find a different punishment in the future,” the Library hummed, “But to be honest, I’m probably going to do that anyway even if you do like it. Maybe especially if you like it. I don’t really want to encourage you to break my rules, but also I rather missed having you awake and responsive. So this is mixing business and pleasure for me. If you like it, though, of course you can always ask me to do it again. Anytime, in fact!”

            “I really can’t see myself asking you to spank me, just telling you that now.”

            “Well we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?” The Library sang as he spread Darryl’s robe open, revealing that while he had been distracting Darryl with his touches and dirty propositions, he had also been undoing Darryl’s DIY knot that had been keeping his robe closed. Darryl wasn’t fully hard yet, but he was definitely half-masting it, and the Library ran a finger along its underside just firmly enough to tickle. “But do we have a deal?”

            “Urgh, um, I guess so?”

            “So what do you deserve?”

            Darryl’s breath caught in his throat, but something about the Library’s unwavering gaze was extremely persuasive in the moment. “T-to be punished?”

            “Oh yes, Darryl, you definitely do! How delicious of you to suggest it.” The Library released him from his hold and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, patting his lap invitingly. “How about you take that robe off, pet?”

            “I’m not a pet,” Darryl muttered, but he only hesitated for a moment before complying with the demand and leaving his robe to pool at the head of the bed. At least he wasn’t shy about nudity, or his whole body would’ve been flushed by this point. He shuffled off the bed and stood in front of the Library, feeling uncomfortably sweaty as he stared down at the fateful lap before him. “So um, how did you want me to…?”

            The Library quickly took pity on Darryl’s awkward stance and reached out to him, taking his arms and hips in hand and guiding him down to lay along the edge of the bed, his groin nestled on top of the Library’s, propping up his impressively round ass for easy access. The position felt very strange, but at least he didn’t have to look at the Library while he did this. He buried his face in his folded arms instead. To his surprise, the Library didn’t immediately begin hitting him. Instead, the monster ran hands delicately over Darryl’s shoulders and spine, stroking and rubbing gently to warm his skin, moving slowly down to his posterior and massaging his buttocks briefly before running down his thighs. It actually felt pretty nice. Definitely not what he had expected to happen. He was about to glance over his shoulder to ask when the Library was going to get to the punishment part when the massage stopped and the Library gave Darryl’s butt a single, firm, experimental smack.

            Darryl yelped when it hit, but it was far more from surprise than pain, and his love handles jiggled in its aftermath. The smack had been just that, a smack, and there was more of a tingle and heat to it than anything sharp or aching.

            “Are you doing alright, Darryl? May I just say, I love how much booty you’ve got to work with here, it’s like I’ve got a whole canvas to paint!”

            “I’m fine,” Darryl replied automatically before he had thought about it. The following smack was a bit harder, rocking Darryl against the Library’s thighs, and he was definitely hard now. It might’ve had something to do with the blood rushing southward in a quest to redden his ass, but none the less, it was dawning on Darryl that he might actually be into spanking? That was unexpected. The third slap felt more painful, probably because the Library kept hitting the same spot, and Darryl made a grunt of discomfort. But the fourth smack was on the other cheek, and suddenly the warm tingling sensation was back with a vengence. Darryl’s breathing was getting laboured, and he suddenly felt self-conscious over the fact that his dick was twitching against the Library’s clothed thigh.

            The fifth smack was the first one to rock Darryl enough that he moaned reflexively into his arms, and that was probably the most embarrassing thing his body had betrayed him with yet. The Library gave a pleasurable hum and began rubbing along Darryl’s shoulders and ass against, massaging out the tension that had grown in both as he anticipated the next set of smacks. “Still doing okay?” Darryl huffed and nodded into his arms. The Library paused his massage minutely before continuing, “We can stop if you want.”

            “I-I thought we were going to ten?”

            “We were, but it’s okay if this is too much. You can call stop if you want, we can do something else.”

            It felt strange to be given the power to stop things after having it taken from him for so long. Darryl wasn’t sure what the right thing to say was. “Why do you care if it’s too much? You basically insisted I do this, and you’re calling it quits?”

            “I think ‘insist’ is a bit strong but… I don’t know. I suppose I don’t feel like you should be obligated to do this when it’s obviously very sexual for you.” The Library paused. “I know I force you into a lot of things, Darryl, but I don’t want to force you to feel the delights of pleasure against your will.”

            “What? Why not?” Darryl propped himself up on his elbows so he could turn and look at the Library’s face. It seemed like such a bizarre statement to make since the monster clearly had no problem causing him pain and isolating him from his friends against his will.

            “Because it would ruin pleasure for you. I do want you to be happy, Darryl.” Then the Library shrugged, and the action felt overly dismissive alongside such a declaration. Then, quieter, he added, “And I want you to like me.” Darryl nearly collapsed back into his arms again.

            “What the fuck? How can you say you want me to be happy when you keep ripping me open and eating parts of me? And you lock me up in here, and you say I won’t be able to go home again… how is any of that supposed to make me happy? How is that supposed to make me like you?”

            “It’s not, I just think I can do enough to make up for it, if I work at it.” The Library took that moment to press down on the center of Darryl’s back hard enough that he did collapse into his folded arms again, and groaned as his back cracked. Now that felt amazing. “So, do you want to keep counting to ten, or not?”

            There was silence for a while. Then, “Just to ten.”

            “Okay, here it comes.”

            The last five slaps were announced one by one, alternating in location, and Darryl dug his teeth into the meat of his arm to keep from groaning too loud. When the Library stopped, Darryl ass and groin were both throbbing, and he didn’t make any move to fight as the Library turned him gently onto his back and wormed his way out from under him.

            “What do you want now? More humiliating pain? More salacious pleasure? Both? None?” The Library asked as Darryl worked on trying to steady his breathing.

            “Um, c-can you blow me again?” Darryl asked, and then a horribly weird thought struck him, one that never would have sprung to mind if his mind hadn’t already been so thoroughly taken apart and discombobulated by his strange situation and stranger bed partner. “Maybe uh, maybe like you did behind the van?”

            “Behind the van?” The Library blinked. “How was that different than any other time I… oh. Oh.” The Library’s eyes got very, very, big. His smile grew devastatingly, hideously wide. Several pairs of hands clasped together under his chin and he leaned on them over Darryl like an immensely pleased cat. “Why Darryl, are you suggesting that you would like me to bring you to the brink of orgasm and then swallow you whole?”

            The barbarian let out a long, desperate whine. Then his dick spontaneously exploded between them, spraying sticky cum all over the Library’s pants. Darryl lay there, staring at the ceiling, and panting as his mind blanked out from the high. When it hit him what he had just done, he fought against his exhaustion to look at the Library, who had sat back on his haunches and was staring at Darryl’s dick as though unsure whether he felt impressed or offended by it.

            After a long moment of silence punctuated by Darryl’s laboured breaths, the Library settled on impressed. His Cheshire cat grin settled more naturally on his face as he commented in his smoothest tone, “So, apparently all you need is the sound of my most seductive voice to get off hmm? I’ll be sure to make use of that.”

            “Oh no,” Darryl closed his eyes and turned his head away as the Library started giggling hysterically. Well, he was done for the day. There was no recovering from that level of humiliation. At least it couldn’t get worse.

            Darryl opened his eyes, staring ahead dully as he happened to be facing the door to his room. His door which was open a crack. Hadn’t the Library closed the door behind him? Darryl’s blood began to run cold as he realised that the Library had absolutely closed the door behind him. It was the first thing he did. Oh shit. Oh shit.

            “Wow, you’re moving kind of fast there, Darryl? I thought you were wiped out after- huh, okay, you’re putting your robe on. Where are you off to so fast? Hello? YOU FORGOT YOUR SLIPPERS! Wow, rude.” The Library folded his limbs as he sat alone on the bed, looking out the open bedroom door. He sucked in a deep breath. “I DIDN’T GET TO GET OFF, YOU KNOW!”

            A small face peeked around the corner of the doorframe. “Woah, uh, didn’t need to know that.”

            The Library’s eyebrows rose, and though he didn’t notice it, his cheeks actually dusted a little pink. “Oh. Um. Hello, Paeden! Done helping Grant with his books?”

            “Uh huh.”

            “You wouldn’t happen to be irreversibly traumatized now, would you?”

            “Look man, these Paeden eyes have seen things an eight year old should never see. Accidentally overhearing and briefly seeing a man I respect being consensual spanked doesn’t even make my top ten list of traumatic incidents that have moulded me into the rowdy boy you see today.”

            “Well that’s a relief!”

            “Grant seemed pretty freaked out, though.”

            “Oh, shit.”

Chapter 16: Talking

Summary:

Just what it says on the tin. Lots of talking. Looooots of talking. About many things! Holy shit this chapter got too long oh well.

16 Talking

            Grant had managed to get back to the main hall and was frantically tearing through the pile of books in front of him when Darryl caught up, triple knotting his robe shut as he went. “Grant, buddy? Uh, I guess I need to talk to you about some stuff.”

            “Nope!” Grant said loudly as he squinted at the title of a leather-bound book and then growled, tossing it aside and going deeper.

            “Y-you might want to be careful with those books, son! I don’t want to scare you, but the Library absolutely kills people who damage his books, so uh, try not to do that.”

            “OH REALLY?” Grant’s voice rose in pitch, and when he turned to his dad he had a somewhat hysterical grin on his face. He started nodding rapidly along with his words. “Oh yeah, you know what? That makes sense! That makes total sense! The Library’s this monster thing, and it kills people, and it did something to you while you were knocked out, right? It hypnotized you, or something, so you’d do… that with him.” Grant covered his face with his hands and screamed into them for a couple of seconds while Darryl tried to get closer, reaching out for him. Grant noticed and knocked Darryl’s hand away, scrambling up the pile of books so he was looking down at Darryl with a mix of fear and disgust. It felt like a punch to the gut.

            Darryl took a deep breath and decided his best option was to just hope that the Library wouldn’t be too mad about dusty footprints on his book jackets. “Grant, I’m really sorry you saw me like that. I know I sure wouldn’t have wanted to see my dad, um…”

            “Cheating on mom?” Grant snapped, his words like a bucket of ice water. That phone call with Carol had already settled into his brain as a firm, tragic reality for Darryl. So much so that he had momentarily forgotten that Grant still didn’t know.

            Grant was still standing on the pile of books, eyes wide and awaiting a response. Darryl didn’t know what to tell him. Would it be better to let him believe that the Library had used magic to force him into doing stuff with him? That would be a straight up lie, and the Library probably wouldn’t let him get away with it. He couldn’t let Grant believe his dad was straight up cheating on Carol, because Grant would never forgive him, and it was more complicated than that anyway. But the only way to soften it at all without getting WAY too detailed about his feelings would be to tell Grant about Carol wanting a divorce, and he didn’t want to tell him that yet. Not without Carol. Then again, it still wasn’t a good look that Darryl’s wife asked for a divorce and Darryl went screwing around the same night, so maybe he was screwed no matter what he said.

            “Okay.” Darryl swallowed. His palms were sweating. “It’s complicated. It’s a complicated, messy situation, and I really wish you hadn’t seen it. But you did, and I know you can’t un-see it.” He paused, desperately trying to keep his voice from shaking. “I know I always told you how important it is to love the person you’re with, and to stand by them, and never betray them for anything, and I meant all that. I still do. But…”

            “But what? But you’re a hypocrite? But you… with him… are you…?” Grant trailed off, and his eyes widened comically. “A-are you gay, too? Is that what this is? Have you been sleeping around behind mom’s… wait, does mom know? How long have you been doing this?”

            “No, mom doesn’t know, this is new, and I’m not gay. I’m just…” Bisexual? Confused? Trying something out? Being weirdly seduced by his captor like a Disney princess? “I’m figuring some stuff out, but I swear I would never even think about cheating on your mom. I mean, I guess from the church’s perspective I have but like… god you weren’t supposed to find out like this. Your mom should really be here, too.”

            “What? Why? So we can talk about your home-wrecking-monster-dom-daddy as a family?”

            Darryl stiffened. “First of all, he’s not my… did you say ‘dom daddy’? Why the hell do you know that word?”

            “I’ve been on the internet, dad!”

            “I should probably be monitoring that closer…” Darryl mumbled, then spoke up more clearly. “Look, a lot happened after the Four Knights Tournament between then and getting you out of Ravenloft. Your mom called me, and we had a long talk, and I’m sure you can talk to her more about it later, and maybe we should call her. Hell, maybe she should tell you this instead of me.”

            “Just TELL ME!” Grant yelled, startling Darryl with the intensity of it. His face was red as he twisted his fingers into his hair and pulled. “Oh my GOD, dad! Can’t you just, for once, tell me straight up what’s going on? I’m not a little kid anymore! I’ve seen fucking awful shit in this world, and now my own DAD is a part of that! So for once, just this one time, can you stop pushing this aside and tell me what’s happening?!”

            Darryl licked his lips and instinctively his eyes tracked the distance between him and the door out. No, he couldn’t run from this. There was nothing else that was going to distract Grant from this. He had to say it. “Your mom and I are getting a divorce.”

            Grant stumbled, a book catching under his foot wrong and he yelped as he slid down the pile. Darryl darted forward to catch his son under the armpits before his head could hit the ground, and it spoke to how shocked Grant was that he didn’t even flinch as Darryl set him on his feet and pulled him into a very tight hug. He started talking rapid fire into his son’s ear, as though hoping if he could say enough, he might stumble across the right words to earn his forgiveness. “Your mom and I have been drifting apart for a long while now, and I didn’t want to see it. Your mom accidentally butt-dialed me during the Four Knights tournament, and I heard her saying she wanted a divorce, and then she realised she butt dialed me and hung up. I got the message after you were taken again,” One white lie couldn’t hurt, “And then when she called back we had a long talk,” Carol had a long talk, Darryl had just sat and listened like an idiot. Grant didn’t need to know that much, “And we both decided,” (Carol decided), “That when you and me got back to Earth we’d uh, we’d start going through divorce, uh, proceedings.”

            “I-I thought it was going to be a magic thing. I didn’t think… that’s not… what I expected.”

            “Yeah, seems like too normal a problem to have in the middle of this mess, right?” Darryl huffed a laugh.

            His son was quiet for a long while, and Darryl prayed that Carol was right about him being a mature kid. He still hadn’t pulled away from Darryl, but he wasn’t hugging back either, his arms hanging limply at his sides. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and sounded more childish than it had since he’d been rescued from Ravenloft. Even just the tone made Darryl’s heart swell with relief to know that even after everything, his kid was still somewhere inside of this strange, hurt little teenager that wore his name. “What’re you gonna to do with me, though? Are we… shit are we moving out of the house, too?”

            Darryl huffed out another laugh and patted his son’s back. “Your mom and I still have to talk about it more. But I promise that whatever gets decided, you’ll have a say in it, okay? That’s something we definitely have to talk about as a family, because it’ll affect all of us. But you get to have a choice in it, too. I mean, your mom…” Carol had said she wanted Grant to stay with Darryl, but Darryl was pretty sure he could convince her otherwise if his son didn’t want to live with him after this. He could accept that, after everything he’d managed to screw up. “Your mom and I will be okay with what you decide. If you want to live with me, or your mom, or if you want to split your time up evenly… we’ll work it out. But I swear to you that you will still have a choice.”

            Grant let out a long, shuddering breath. Although he still didn’t hug back, he did start leaning his full weight onto his dad. “Okay. Thanks, I guess. That’s uh, that’s good to know.”

            “You gonna be okay there, buddy? I know that was a lot.”

            “Are you okay?” Grant asked, his head turning up to look at his dad sideways from where his face was still smooshed into Darryl’s chest. “Cause it sounds like mom left you and then you started messing around with a gross book monster guy, so it doesn’t look like you’re doing great, either.”

            “That’s also really complicated, and I really don’t want to go into that right now.”

            “Okay, but like, we’re in the guy’s house. He’s the one who rescued you from Ravenloft and nursed you back to health so like, obviously something’s going on. At first I thought maybe he was just… nice? Or he owed you one or something? But now I know… that you and him… actually you know what?” Grant grimaced. “I take it back. I don’t want to know. I’m fine.”

            “Heh, yep! But um, if you want to talk to mom or something, we can call her on my phone later. She’d probably be glad to know I found you, anyway.”

            “Oh, uh, m-maybe later. I think I’m gonna take a walk, for a while. If that’s cool.”

            Darryl nodded and released his son, who seemed a bit unsteady on his feet. “Sure, whatever you need to do. Walking’s good.” Grant gave him a tiny nod, shoved his hands in his pockets, and passed Darryl on his way out the door to the courtyard. “Well, that didn’t go so bad,” Darryl said to himself when the door shut, barring Grant from his sight.

            “I agree!” The Library’s voice came from behind him. Darryl groaned into the chorus of slow claps. “Of course, I do wish you had cleared it with me before you offered your son the choice of living here with us, but I don’t see it being too much of an issue. After all, this is an awfully big castle, and he seems to be a reader, so he may fit in rather nicely!”

            “What? Grant’s not staying… oh.” Darryl blinked slowly as he felt the Library’s hands descend on his shoulders and knead them gently.

            “Darryl,” the Library sang lightly, “You didn’t forget that you’re not going back to that world you came from, did you?”

            Not taking his eyes off the door his son disappeared through, Darryl answered flatly. “Please, let me go.” The Library’s hands tightened hard enough to hurt, and Darryl grunted, but pushed on anyway. “Please. I can’t stay here. My son needs me, and my son isn’t safe in this world. We have to go back.”

            “Grant’s perfectly safe here!” The Library stressed. Another pair of arms snaked around Darryl’s waist to hold him close to the Library’s front. “I heard it from Willy Stampler himself. They don’t want you or Grant, as long as they have the other children. You can stay here in this castle with me, and no undue harm will befall you! This keep has plenty of magic within its walls to keep out any ill-meaning sentient beings I don’t want in here. Except for my family, apparently.” Darryl could hear the scowl in his voice. “You can certainly stay here indefinitely. Your garden is starting to grow! I can get you some livestock to raise for meat, and you can modify and decorate these rooms however you want, I don’t care! You can keep your son with you, and if you want to adopt that other child Willy foisted upon me, you may!”

            “Paeden’s already got a dad, actually. We found him one.” Darryl said this in the same monotone as before. He made no move to struggle or look at the Library when yet another set of hands wound their way into clasping each of his own.

            “Then we can give him back! After I solve whatever Willy’s riddle was, of course.”

            “Riddle? What riddle?” Darryl perked up for the first time since the Library touched him.

            “Hmm? Oh yes, when he gave me the boy he claimed that he wasn’t what he seemed, that if I took him I was doing Willy a favour, and if I found out why he was important I could get much unknown knowledge from him.”

            Darryl’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure that’s a riddle?”

            “It sounded like a riddle.”

            “I guess it kind of does, but he didn’t really give you anything to work with? I dunno, Willy didn’t really seem like a riddle master kind of guy.”

            “He is a powerful warlock. Talking in riddles is often a thing they do.”

            “Yeah, but he’s also an asshole. And talking vaguely so no one knows what they’re talking about is something assholes do all the time.”

            The Library’s chin buried itself in the hair on top of Darryl’s head. “I suppose you may have a point. I’ll have to think about this. Do you think he was lying?”

            “I dunno. I mean, he probably meant it when he said taking Paeden would be doing him a favour. He already tried to get rid of him before. I guess it would make sense if there was more of a reason for that then just not needing him around, but I don’t know why he’d be important.”

            “Yes, quite the mystery. I have been watching him closely for most of a week, and he seems to be nothing more than an especially rambunctious little boy who doesn’t care much for reading. And who mysteriously always has knives on him. I wonder if that’s related.”

            “Well, we could just try asking him. He’s hanging around somewhere, right?”

            “I guess. But that can wait a while, I think. I’m still pretty horny from earlier. Kind of was hoping you’d help me finish off.” As if to prove his point, the Library’s mysterious wiggling dick squirmed directly into the clef of Darryl’s ass, and finally the dad had something to yelp about. The Library laughed and took a sharp swipe at Darryl’s ear with his tongue as the man tried to twist out of the monster’s grip, but all was stopped short by another yelp that came from behind him.

            “Holy fuck, do you guys just do that stuff everywhere?! Is there nowhere safe for these Paeden eyes?” Darryl and the Library both turned on the spot to see Paeden covering his face and whining dramatically.

            “Well obviously the bedroom wasn’t safe, so we had to make do.” The Library smiled cheerily, and Paeden wailed louder about the unfairness of it all. But to his credit, he did let go when Darryl pulled away from him, this time.

            “Actually, Paeden, it’s a good thing you’re here! We have some stuff to ask you about,” Darryl said, hoping to forcibly change the subject.

            “Please tell me it isn’t at all related to whatever I keep walking in on.”

            “It’s not. It’s about Willy Stampler.”

            Paeden’s lips pressed together and he hunched in on himself, suddenly appearing much more like the scrawny eight year old kid he was. “I don’t really wanna talk about him.”

            “I know you don’t buddy,” Darryl took a few steps toward Paeden with his hands out and open. “But it might be real important. You know that Ron and Henry and the other kids are all still in there, right? Whatever you can tell us could help get them out. I know Willy left you at the Bull E. Wug’s, but why were you with him in the first place?”

            Paeden shrugged absently, and didn’t look Darryl in the eye when he answered. “I dunno, I just remember Willy being around, and he said I would always be a scrawny asthmatic and never amount to anything, a-and then he- he uh, h-h-he taught me about fighting! A-a lot. A-and then he said I needed to toughen up, and he dumped me at the Bull E. Wug’s and said not to come back u-unless I thought I could take him on.” Paeden swallowed pathetically, but then rallied. “A-and so I fought, and I kept fighting, and maybe I didn’t win, but I made a name for myself! And then I met you guys, and things have never been better!” Suddenly Paeden was all gap-toothed smiles again, flashing Darryl a peace sign.

            “So… Willy’s your dad, then?” Darryl asked slowly, trying to understand what was happening. “If Willy’s your dad, why would he get rid of you, if he wants to use daddy magic so bad?”

            “Oh, he’s not… he’s not my… I mean he’s kinda my dad?” Paeden seemed very confused all of a sudden. “He never had me call him dad, he was always ‘sir’. And I mostly seemed to get on his nerves, but he told the guys running the UFC fights that he was my foster dad, so I guess he was my foster dad.”

            “Huh. So he could’ve picked you up from anywhere? He could’ve got you from an orphanage or… shit, could he have kidnapped you, too?”

            “Wouldn’t surprise me. That’s not too uncommon in Faerun, especially in the UFC. Like, half the kids in there were kidnapped. A hostage is pretty much the same as a foster kid as far as the rules are concerned.” Paeden didn’t seem bothered by the implications of having been either adopted or abducted.

            “God this world sucks so much,” Darryl groaned and shook his head. “Okay, and what about those other guys? Henry and Glenn’s dads? What were they like?”

            “Oh, I don’t know, I never met them.”

            “You didn’t?” That was interesting.

            “Nope! Well, not really. I mean, not the short guy. Bear Ry’Oak was around once or twice, but he never talked to me. So mostly it was just me and Willy. Actually, it was usually just me. Willy was busy with a lot of stuff. Spent a lot of time talking to people in crystals and mumbling and building stuff in the basement, and would go out for a couple weeks and tell me if I left the house while he was gone I’d regret it. But I left anyway cause he usually didn’t leave food around so, yeah. It wasn’t great.”

            “And how long ago did he leave you at the Bull E. Wug’s?”

            “Uhh, I wanna say about… hm. Maybe about six months before I met you guys?”

            “Just six months?” Darryl winced, not sure whether it was better or worse that Paeden spent less time fighting in a ring and more time living with Willy Stampler than he had expected. “Okay, well, that’s something we know then. These guys haven’t been working together that long, and for some reason Paeden didn’t work for this daddy magic thing.” Darryl squinted. “Maybe it only works if the dad’s related to the kid?”

            “But isn’t Ron Stampler only Terry Junior’s stepfather?” The Library finally cut in, but Darryl didn’t mind, it was a good point.

            “That’s a good point,” Darryl nodded, putting a hand to his chin as he tried to think all this through.

            “If it helps, uh, he never actually officially stopped being my foster dad? And I think that sending me off to toughen up might’ve been parenting? Maybe?”

            “But he sent you away again, and he still kidnapped the other kids, so it wasn’t as much daddy magic as he wanted, I guess.”

            “You got me there!” said Paeden, unbothered as usual.

            “And yet, Willy Stampler claimed you were important.” The Library leaned down in front of Paeden to look into the boys eyes, as if they would reveal his secrets. “Perhaps he took you in for a reason. You don’t remember when you came into his possession, so you must have been quite young, correct?”

            “I guess so, I don’t really remember.” Paeden shrugged. “I guess I must’ve been younger at some point, but I got nothing.”

            “You don’t remember being younger?” Darryl blinked. That was weird. “How far back can you remember?”

            “Uhh, it’s kinda hazy…” Paeden squinted into space for a moment. “A couple years I guess?”

            “So since you were six?”

            Paeden seemed to be deep in thought, staring at his hands. “I… guess… so?”

            “You’re about eight, right?”

            “I don’t know, no one ever told me how old I was. The Bull E. Wug’s guy thought I was eight. That’s what I tell people but, I don’t really know.”

            “I guess that makes sense…” Darryl looked at the Library as though the monster would have some insight, but he seemed more lost than Darryl was.

            “I see children. I see adults. Beyond that, the differences in age eludes me.” The Library shrugged.

            “Yeah? How old are you, then?” Darryl asked.

            “Older than you.”

            “You don’t know how old I am.”

            “Trust me, I’m older than you. And older than Scam and Mark. That’s all I’m telling.”

            “Hm,” Darryl frowned but returned his attention to Paeden. “So that’s all you can tell us, kiddo?”

            “Sorry, my man. They just ain’t that much to Paeden.” He spread his hands and did a little turn on the spot. “What you see is what you get!”

            Darryl sighed, but resigned himself to the lack of useful intel. The Library, however, seemed to have one more question. “Where do you keep getting knives from?”

            “Uh, who said anything about knives?” Paeden laughed awkwardly, shifting in place. Darryl noticed something pointy under his shirt.

            “Paeden! Give it here!” Darryl threw out a practiced hand and Paeden sighed deeply, pulling a pocket knife from under his shirt and reluctantly handing it over.

            “That won’t do any good,” the Library shook his head. “He’ll just get another one.”

            “What do you mean?” Darryl asked with a frown as the Library pulled the knife from his hand and examined it more closely than he thought it warranted.

            “Look at this knife, here. Does it look familiar to you at all?” Darryl squinted at the knife the Library dangled in front of his nose and shook his head. The handle was black and shiny, and it was clearly a switchblade. It looked similar to the other knives Paeden had on him, but it wasn’t familiar beyond that. “You see? This knife looks nothing like the knives in this castle. The only knives here are found in the kitchen, and I have since hidden them after removing several from this child’s person. I have also removed no less than thirteen switchblades from his person since he arrived here, and taken them all from the premises. And yet, every time you take a knife from him… there, look at him!”

            Both Darryl and the Library turned to see Paeden trying to do a trick with a butterfly knife. The kid looked guilty immediately and tried to hide the knife behind his back, only to be faced with Darryl’s open hand again. Paeden sighed miserably and handed it over.

            “Why bother? I told you, it’s pointless. He keeps getting them. I can only assume he’s producing them somehow, perhaps from his very skin.” The Library’s mouth dropped open on a thought. “I wonder if…?”

            “Phht, humans don’t produce stuff from their skin.” Darryl snorted.

            “I do,” the Library said, sounding a little distant all of a sudden. “I eat flesh, and I make books out of it, or I add to my body, or I add to your body.” A limb ran down Darryl’s left forearm and he shivered. “While I don’t tend to bother, I could theoretically make other things with the flesh I consume.”

            “Okay, well one, you’re not human. And two, Paeden doesn’t eat flesh.”

            “Yeah I do! I eat meat all the time!”

            “The Library eats people Paeden.”

            “Oh. What?”

            “Now hold on Darryl, let’s stay on topic.” The Library tapped Darryl’s head. “I think you may have hit on exactly why Paeden may be important! You’re right, I’m not human, and that’s why I can make things out of my own body and what I put into it. So what would that mean if our young friend here is making knives unconsciously out of something?”

            “We don’t even know if that’s what’s happening!” Darryl looked at Paeden with a creeping worry in his belly. “Paeden, where did you get that knife from?”

            “Um… I dunno.”

            “You gotta know!” Darryl said quickly, “Come on, did you find it somewhere? Did you steal it? It’s okay if you did, I won’t be mad.”

            “I… yeah, I guess I found it?”

            “You don’t sound sure there, buddy. Where’d you find it?”

            “Um… in my shirt?”

            “What do you mean in your shirt?”

            “I don’t know, man! Sometimes I just have knives! It didn’t happen before I met you guys. But ever since Glenn gave me that first, beautiful, delicious knife, and you know I liked that knife, and I would really like it back, actually?”

            “You aren’t getting it back, Paeden.”

            “Urgh, well, ever since then, I just have knives! I don’t see what the big deal is! Lots of people have knives!”

            “I think that proves my point,” the Library piped in. Darryl grit his teeth, but he couldn’t really argue that Paeden having all these knives was kind of weird.

            “Okay.” Darryl sighed, then rounded on the Library again. “But that still doesn’t mean he’s not human! Magic’s a thing in this world! He could be teleporting them to him from somewhere, or just making them out of nothing, I don’t know! He might just have magic powers, like Henry does!”

            “Hmm, I don’t know, something about these knives seem familiar to meeeeee….” The Library sniffed the blade and snaked out his tongue to run along the edge of it. He cringed slightly as a drop of black, sticky liquid swelled on the tip of his tongue. Then he appeared to think very hard, and grimaced, dropping the knife to the floor. “Oh, gross!”

            “What? What’s gross?” Darryl asked, baffled.

            “I think it’s pee? I think this blade is made of urine?” The Library looked vaguely nauseous as he kicked the knife so it skidded across the room. Darryl looked at Paeden in question, who to his further confusion was nodding along as though that made sense.

            “That tracks. I don’t pee, so all those sports drinks had to go somewhere. I guess I’m so cool and manly, my pee comes out as knives!”

            “No, no, that doesn’t track. That doesn’t make sense. I don’t like any of this, I need- wow. Okay. I don’t like where any of this is going.” Darryl pressed his face into his hands and sat himself on the floor to take some deep breaths. “Wow. Okay. Yep. Makes sense. Uh huh.”

            “Darryl, uhh, hey, I think you’re putting too much weight on this,” Paeden said as he carefully put a hand on top of Darryl’s head. “Does it really matter that much? I feel pretty human, but if I’m not, hey, I’m still Paeden! I’m still me! Whatever’s going on with this, maybe we can figure it out. I’m cool with it!”

            “I’m going to do some research,” the Library said, and Darryl peeked between his fingers to see the monster heading over to one of his book piles. “This might take a while, and since neither of you seem inclined to do any with me, you may go amuse yourselves somewhere where you won’t be a bother. Though if you run across your delightful son again, feel free to send him back. It’s nice to have someone around who actually appreciates and makes use of my vast collection of knowledge.”

            Darryl rolled his eyes as he brushed Paeden’s hand from his head and stood up. “I’m just not that smart. If you don’t like that, you don’t have to keep me around.”

            “Hm, I suppose you make up for it in other ways.” The Library winked over his shoulder before making a shooing motion toward the door. Darryl shook his head, took Paeden’s hand, and led him outside.

            About five seconds after the door shut, Paeden broke the silence. “So, since I just got a whole grill session thing, can I ask you something now?”

            “Uh, sure buddy. What’s on your mind?”

            “When are we gonna break out of this dump? We got some friends to save, right?”

            Darryl’s grip tightened on Paeden’s hand and he clenched his opposite hand in a fist. Wasn’t that the million dollar question? Darryl’s own body parts would betray him on another escape attempt, and they were miles away from Ravenloft. He didn’t even have the van, or money, or anything. Just himself and two kids he had to protect. “I dunno, Paeden. I’m gonna try to figure that out. I might still be able to get the Library to change his mind, or I could try calling Scam, maybe Glenn if he’s with them, but it might take some time.”

            “Why? Why can’t we just go now?” Paeden asked, tugging on Darryl’s hand and pointing at the front gate of the keep. “The Library’s reading, and from what I’ve seen, when he reads he doesn’t notice anything going on. I bet we could get a good distance before he even notices! I mean, I guess you’d want to find Grant first, but-“

            “No, Paeden, that won’t work.” Darryl sighed and waved his left hand where Paeden could see it. It was empty at the moment, but that didn’t mean much. “The Library’s got me on a leash. He took my hand a while ago and did something too it, so he can pretty much control it at will, and can listen in on us when he wants… I’m not going to get far like that.”

            “So chop your hand off, what’s the problem?” Paeden said this so plainly that Darryl had to take a second to remind himself that this wasn’t a completely reasonable solution he should’ve thought of already.

            “No good, he got my right foot, too. Can’t get far if he stops it from moving or if I cut it off.”

            Paeden lowered his head to contemplate this new information. “That’s kind of harder. Maybe we could cut it off and get you a peg leg?”

            Darryl made a strangled laugh in the back of his throat. “Um, h-how about we put that on the table as a last resort kind of thing? I’ll try to talk the Library around first, and then we can talk about, uh, other options.”

            “Hm. Methinks this Paeden’s got some research of my own to do. I’ll catch up with you, later!” Paeden released Darryl’s hand and took off running across the courtyard to one of the castle’s walls, producing two knives from his pants and driving them into the stone, using them to scramble up onto the roof where he dropped onto the top behind the archer blockade and out of sight. Left on his own, Darryl shoved his hands into his pockets and decided he needed to take a walk, too.

*

            Despite having been there as long as he had, Darryl hadn’t done that much exploring. He got the hang of the various outbuildings in the courtyard and the main rooms of the castle proper, but hadn’t really done much to explore the inside of the walls or the towers embedded in them. So, given that he wanted to clear his head and think as well as kill some time, Darryl pushed open one of the wooden doors on the wall he had previously ignored and peered into the gloom beyond. It wasn’t nearly as dark as the labyrinth beneath the castle had been, as a number of narrow defensive windows were spaced along the corridor letting in just enough light to see by. It wasn’t exactly inviting, however, and Darryl dithered a while before drummed up the courage to go in. In the end, he figured that a little adrenaline rush from walking into a spooky space might be just what he needed, so he headed in and started strolling down the perimeter of the Library’s home.

            He had to get the Library’s help, for real this time. He could call Scam and Glenn, and have them come to get Paeden and Grant if it came to it, but there was no way they would be alright on their own to save anyone. Darryl had to be there, too. Sure, last time he hadn’t been much help, but they had been going in blind! And maybe, yeah, okay, Darryl had messed up whatever plan Glenn had, but Scam had been a part of that too, so that just put the nail in the coffin of how much help Scam would be on a rescue mission. No, if they were saving anyone, Darryl had to be there this time for sure. And he couldn’t think of another way to do that besides getting the Library on his side.

            The corridor in the wall was narrow, and the ceiling above was rotting wood, a platform for another level of narrow windows where archers could’ve shot arrows during a siege. By the time Darryl reached a door at the end leading into one of the towers, he realised that he was going to have to have something to bargain with. Reasoning wasn’t going to work. The Library didn’t care about the other dads or the other kids, and while he was able to understand why Darryl cared about Grant, he probably wouldn’t get why he would care about the others. Even if he agreed to a rescue mission, there was absolutely no way in hell he’d let Darryl back into Ravenloft after what happened last time. Plus, this time the enemy had more hostages, and they had way less to take in with them in terms of mercenary armies and helpful witches. It wasn’t good.

            The tower was pretty empty, save for a couple broken arrows on the floor and a set of wooden stairs along the edge spiraling up, presumably, to the top of the battlements. He could keep walking around in a big circle, or he could go up. The stairs looked fairly sturdy, so Darryl opted for up.

            What could he bargain? Saying he’d stay here forever wasn’t going to work, the Library seemed pretty damn confident he could keep him there as long as he wanted whether he liked it or not, and Darryl was starting to think that might be true. Maybe he could offer to blow him and actually follow through this time, but something told him that probably wasn’t going to be enough in this case. He could offer the whole package, maybe? Prostitute himself for the cause. He didn’t even have to question his own willingness to go that far. Even without his upcoming divorce ever hanging in the back of his mind, saving everyone else was definitely a noble reason to sell his body for. But why should the Library agree to that when Darryl was already very obviously on the road to giving it all up for free anyway?

            Halfway up the stairs, Darryl groaned and pressed his forehead into the cold stone of the wall. This was such garbage. He had nothing. No bargaining chips. Nothing the Library would want that he couldn’t just take from him, or wait him out on. Couldn’t fight him with his hand and foot tied behind his back. He was fucked. He was so, so fucked. He sank down on the stairs and pressed his face into his bare knees to try and calm down. Grant was safe. That was something. He may not be the reason Grant was safe, but it was a relief to know that his son was alright physically, even if he was obviously still going through some shit. He had even told him about the divorce, and he hadn’t done too badly with that, though he should call Carol and tell her Grant knows.

            Come to think of it, what happened to his cell phone? He’d woken up in a robe, his cell phone nowhere in sight. Maybe the Library had taken it? Would he have to beg for that, too? God, this was the worst. His shoulders shook and his next breath rasped along the back of his throat. He was trapped. He had nothing to offer. His friends were in danger, his son was in pain, his wife didn’t want him, and the monster who did want him wouldn’t help him when he needed it.

            Darryl nearly choked when the first low sob worked its way out of him. He didn’t want to break down like this. Not over himself. He could cry at a sad movie, or when someone died, but he couldn’t cry for not being able to handle things. He had to keep it together. People were counting on him to keep it together. But no one was around now, were they? No, the Library might still hear him. Fucking Library. Darryl body shuddered as another sob wracked through him against his will. He squeezed his eyes shut and realised that they were wet with unshed tears, which were now rolling down his face. He was crying. Shit, he was crying. He tried to swallow down any sound, but it kept bubbling from him in gasps and sniffles. He knew it was okay for a man to cry. He knew that. He really did. But he still felt like shit for it. His dad never cried in front of him. He never messed up like this. He was so strong, and always knew what to do. Why didn’t Darryl know what to do? He knew he wasn’t the smartest guy around, but goddamn it, he should be doing something more than crying in a corner! People needed him, he needed to be out there helping them, and he couldn’t…

            Another, louder, sob escaped him, and Darryl shoved a fist into his mouth to muffle it. Shit, did the Library hear that? That’s the last thing he needed, having the Library hear him-

            “Dad?”

            Shit, no, that was the last thing he needed. He hadn’t closed the door behind him, why hadn’t he heard Grant coming up the stairs? Darryl stared out in the dim light at the silhouette of his son standing on the narrow landing below him. He couldn’t move. He hoped the dark was enough to hide his red eyes as he rubbed his cheeks on the sleeve of his robe.

            “G-Grant-“ Darryl snapped his mouth shut when he realised how broken his voice sounded.

            “Dad? Are you… crying?”

            Darryl swallowed hard. “I- uh, no, no I just, I f-fell? Um, just pain tears, it’s nothing-“

            “You fell? Are you bleeding? Did you break something? I’ve been practicing healing, I can help-“

            “No, nope! No bleeding just uh, hit the ol’ shin, you know, it’s good, it’s fine, I’m good.” Darryl could just make out his son squinting at him.

            “You didn’t actually fall, did you? You’re lying to me again. Like with the shotgun.”

            Darryl closed his eyes again, biting down on his lip. Damn it. Damn it, of course his son saw right through that, he was a smart kid. Like Carol. Not like him. Fuck. “I’m sorry. I-”

            He was cut off by Grant taking a very audible breath, as though grounding himself. “Dad. You’re crying. What’s going on? Did the monster hurt you?”

            “The Library? Uh,” Darryl’s eyes automatically darted to his smooth left palm. “No. Not, uh, not really. S’not why I was cr- why I’m here. I’m not… it’s not… no. Not really.”

            Grant took another step toward Darryl, hesitantly, but didn’t move to climb the stairs to reach him. “Okay. Then, why are you crying?”

            Darryl winced. “It’s just some complicated grown up stuff. I don’t-“

            He was cut off again by Grant growling in frustration, and Darryl’s mouth opened to shock when his son abruptly punched the wall hard enough that there was an audible crack. Darryl jumped to his feet and made it down three stairs before Grant waved him off, grabbing his broken hand with his good one. A bright light emitted from one hand and sank into the other, and the limp fingers twitched and straightened out.

            “See? It’s fine. I can heal it if I hurt myself too much, now. Yay?” Grant wiggled his fingers at Darryl. It was unsettling.

            “You still shouldn’t hurt yourself on purpose, Grant. That’s not good for you, even if you heal it after.”

            “Dad, that doesn’t matter. You’re sitting in here by yourself, crying, and I’ve never seen you cry before!”

            “That’s not true! I cried when we watched Marley and Me the night before the soccer game!”

            “Okay, I’ve never seen you cry like this!” Grant gestured in Darryl’s direction, and Darryl had nothing to say to that. “You say it’s all too complicated for me to get, but I’ve been through so much shit since I got here! I know I’d get it if you just explained it to me! I want to help! Let me help you!”

            “I’m not- it’s not that you wouldn’t get it. I know you would. You’re a smart kid.”

            “Then why won’t you tell me?”

            Darryl felt something in him snap. “Because you shouldn’t have to deal with this! You’re still a kid, even if you’ve been through all this shit! You’re going through so much, been through so much that I should’ve been there to protect you from! I wasn’t there for you, and when I tried to be there, I failed! If it weren’t for Glenn, and Scam, you’d still be in there. I couldn’t save you, and I still can’t help you now, and I can’t help the other dads, or anything, because of-“

            “The Library? Paeden told me what he did to you.”

            “H-he did?” Darryl blinked. “I- yeah. Look, the point is, you shouldn’t have to deal with this stuff. I’m the dad, this is my job.”

            Grant was quiet for a while, head down and eyes shaded. When he finally spoke, it was subdued, but firm. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s your job. But it seems to me that right now, you can’t do your job. So maybe I shouldn’t have to help, but I still need to help. And I want to help. So I’m going to help, whether you want me to or not.”

            “What? What do you mean? Grant!” Darryl called after him, but Grant’s feet were already hammering down the stairs, and the door slammed before Darryl got anywhere close to him. By the time Darryl opened the door to stare down the corridor, Grant was nowhere in sight.

*

            Dinner came and went with little fanfare. Darryl found the Library had stocked the larder surprisingly well while he was out. He had enough meat, veg, and potatoes to make a half-decent shepherd’s pie for him and the kids. The Library had declined to join them, instead whispering in Darryl’s ear that he would be paying him a visit later in the evening for a snack. A concern, but not an immediate one. Paeden and Grant both seemed to eat at the speed of light and bolted out of the kitchen before Darryl could say anything to them, Paeden yelling something about doing more ‘research’. Darryl’s shoulders slumped, but he slowly gathered the dishes and headed for the wash basin the Library filled for him earlier, prepared to clean up alone with naught but his thoughts for company.

            “Need help drying?”

            Darryl nearly dropped the dish he was holding. The Library had apparently slunk in without making a sound like the creepy fucker he was. Still, it was an innocent offer. “Yeah, sure, you can dry I guess. I thought you weren’t coming back till later?”

            “I wasn’t, but I saw both the boys go running off to the main hall faster than expected, so I take it you aren’t going to be spending the evening with them.” The Library grabbed one of the tea towels that had also mysteriously appeared in the kitchen alongside all the fresh food. “So I figured you might want someone to keep you company! Especially since you were crying earlier.”

            “Goddamn it, I knew you were listening,” Darryl muttered darkly as he ground the little scrub brush harder against the fork in his hand. There was silence and the clink of dishes being put away as the Library worked on the ones Darryl had already washed. Darryl passed him the fork and moved on to the pot he’d baked the pie in. That was going to need some serious scrubbing.

            The Library finished with the other dishes, a fact Darryl only knew because the rubbing and clinking noises stopped at some point while he bent over the pot in his hands, scrubbing harder and harder at it as he felt the Library’s eyes drilling holes into the back of his neck. “Apparently insisting on helping others even when you have no business doing so is a family trait?”

            “Don’t talk about Grant,” Darryl snapped, digging in hard on a particularly stubborn bit of burnt meat on the bottom of the pot.

            “Fine. Let’s talk about you.” Out the corner of his eye, Darryl saw the Library leaning against the edge of the wash basin. “Tell me what you want from me.”

            He wants to know? Darryl will be blunt. He didn’t care. “I want you to let me go.”

            “Let you go and do what, Darryl?”

            Darryl scowled as the burnt piece came free and he moved on to the next one. “Let me save the other dads. And the other kids. And take Grant back home.”

            The Library sighed heavily. “Darryl, you have no plan. Your odds of success are-“

            “I know! I know I probably can’t do it!” Darryl plunged the dish back in the water and squeezed his eyes shut. “I know that, but you asked what I wanted you to do, and I told you!” The Library slammed a hand on the side of the basin hard enough the whole thing rocked, and water slopped up over the side and down Darryl’s front. The dad staggered back from the basin in disgust, picking up the sopping end of his robe and squeezing a handful of dirty water out of it. “Great! Perfect! Are you happy now?”

            “No!” The Library snapped, and Darryl looked at him properly. Despite his tone, the Library didn’t look angry. He looked confused, and maybe even a little sad and scared, which somehow hit worse than straight up anger would have. “I’m not happy! Why would I be happy that you’re this upset?” The Library made a frustrated noise. “I thought if you got your son back, you would be happy, and you would stop this nonsense about trying to leave! But that’s all you’ve talked about doing since you woke up!”

            “Of course I want to leave! People I care about are still in danger! Yes, Grant’s safe, and I’m glad he is, but I can’t be happy when people still need my help!”

            “They’re being helped! Glenn and Scam are most likely cooking up something to get them out of there as we speak.”

            “Well forgive me if I don’t trust Glenn and Scam to do anything helpful ever!”

            “I’m not going to just let you go to walk into a trap and get yourself hurt or killed! I won’t do it!” The Library’s hands clenched, all of them, and Darryl felt a shock of intimidation in his belly. “You belong to me! I have taken responsibility for you! You are mine to care for, and mine to protect, even if it’s from yourself. I’m sorry, Darryl, I really am. I don’t want you to be upset like this. I promise that if Scam and Glenn save the others, or if the others manage to free themselves, I will let you see them to know they’re alright. But you’ve proven that you won’t obey a simple order, even from your friends. You’ve proven that you won’t even attempt to research your enemy before a fight, and it’s evident that you would walk straight into a chimera’s mouth if you thought it would ‘help’ someone! I can’t trust you to do even the bare minimum to keep yourself safe!”

            Darryl’s lips pressed together as he fought for something to say to that. He didn’t like hearing it, not any of it. “You don’t- okay first of all, I’m not yours. I don’t belong to you, whatever the stupid laws of this world say, or whatever you’ve done to my arm or foot or anything! And two, you don’t have to protect me. I don’t want to be protected!”

            The Library pointed at Darryl, again using all his hands at once. Somehow that felt more unsettling than when he unhinged his jaw like a snake. “Exactly! You claim to care so much about other people, and yet you say you don’t want to be protected! That’s ridiculous! It’s like you have no idea how much you matter to the people around you!”

            “I- what?” Darryl’s shoulders sagged, his damp robe dropping to his thigh with a wet slap.

            The Library’s hands dropped as well, his head cocking too far to one side as he examined Darryl’s face. “You really don’t realise what you’re doing, do you?” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and covered his mouth as if trying to process this information. Darryl waited. He didn’t know what else to do, the Library’s statement had left him dumbstruck. “Alright. So… I really can’t believe I have to say this because this is a toddler level of logic BUT. You, obviously, care about… let’s say your son in this example. You care about Grant, yes?”

            “Yes.” Darryl couldn’t even find indignation over having to be asked such a thing.

            “So if Grant were to go running off into danger with no plan, and got very hurt because of it, you would feel bad, correct?”

            “Well, yeah.”

            “So you would try to stop him, yes or no?”

            “Yes?”

            “Even if he told you that you don’t have any right to protect him, and even if he yelled and cried about it? You’d still stop him, right?”

            Darryl pursed his lips for a moment before answering. “If he really cared that much about it, I’d let him do it. But I’d have him make a plan first, and I’d go with him.”

            The Library cringed, his limbs folding up against him. “Seriously?” He half turned away from Darryl to look at the wall, as if it may have answers for him. “You incorrigible little…” He shook his head slowly and then looked back at Darryl. “Okay. If that’s really what you would do then I might see fit to agree to this method. Might. But you MUST have a plan, and a backup plan. I have to approve of BOTH plans, and I stay with you at all times.” The Library clicked his tongue. “Also, if I think of a plan that keeps you further away from danger while still saving your friends, we’re doing that instead.”

            Darryl stared at the Library slack-jawed. That was it? He agreed? Just like that? Darryl didn’t even ask him to and- “That’s great! That’s… yeah, sure, I can make a plan! Totally can do that. We can get Scam and Glenn in on it and-“

            “Oh no, not them.”

            “Huh? But you said they were working on a plan already?”

            “Yes, and you correctly pointed out that neither of them are to be trusted to not mess that plan up. Besides, this time the purple robes won’t just let you in the front gate. It’s easier to sneak two people into a castle than four.”

            “Guess that makes sense. I’ll figure it out.” Darryl nodded to himself. Grant could even help with that if he wanted, he would like being part of the planning anyway. Put his research to good use.

            “So are you feeling better, now?” The Library asked, striding close enough to Darryl to run a hand through his hair.

            “Yeah, definitely better,” Darryl even chanced a small smile as the monster leaned over him, though that vanished quickly beneath the Library’s lips on his. It was a soft kiss, demanding nothing other than Darryl staying just where he was until it was over, the Library drawing back enough to look at Darryl with darkened eyes.

            “Can I tell you what I want, my delicious Darryl?”

            Darryl felt sweat beading on the back of his neck. “Late dinner, I’m guessing?”

            “Nope! Well, maybe later,” the Library amended, placing a hand alongside Darryl’s cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb. “But right now, I would really, really like to fuck you.”

            Darryl stiffened and pulled away from the hand on his face. It let him go, but didn’t lower itself. “Jesus, have I even heard you say ‘fuck’ before? That sounded so weird.” He laughed awkwardly, not knowing what else to do. This had come from nowhere, as far as Darryl could tell. He’d thought the Library was kind of mad at him, still.

            “I could say it another way if you’d prefer. I could be more tactful about it. I’d like to take you to bed. Get you out of those wet clothes. Bend you over the furniture.” The Library’s tongue darted out minutely against his lips as he added, “Perhaps you’d prefer the term ‘make love’?”

            “Fuck. Uh. Holy shit.” Darryl backed up until he was against the kitchen table, still stained from the meat juice where Paeden had slopped part of his dinner onto it. “Okay, so, that’s blunt. Um. Can I think about it for a minute?” Why had he said that? He should have just said no! He should say no now, why wasn’t he saying it?

            The Library nodded, finally dropping his outstretched hand and backing off a couple of steps, though he was still clearly watching him from across the room. Darryl let out a breath and twisted the end of the sash keeping his robe together between his fingers as he tried to calm down. Of course the Library would want this eventually. He knew that. A guy doesn’t typically ask to blow you and spank you without eventually wanting to go all the way. And hell, Darryl had already decided that if giving up his body would get the Library to help him save the others, he would do it. The Library had already agreed to save them, so maybe this was karma?

            “What would happen if I said no?” Darryl asked, not meeting the Library’s unblinking gaze.

            The Library was quiet for a while before answering. “That’s up to you.”

            Darryl groaned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “It means that it’s up to you, Darryl. If you don’t want this, I won’t force it on you. But you may as well know that it’s what I want. We don’t have to go all the way. I will take what I can get. If you want to be spanked again, or massaged, I could do that for you. I could blow you again, if that’s still all you feel comfortable asking for. Or you could just go bed alone. Or you could ask that I come with you and cuddle you until you fall asleep.” The Library spread his limbs and smirked. “I am at your command.”

            At those words, Darryl felt strange, like something about the power dynamic shifted in his favour. It was hard to believe, because so much had felt out of his control lately. But if the Library was really offering to let Darryl tell him what to do. Well. That was kind of tempting. The robe was starting to feel a little too hot again.

            “Okay.” Darryl wet his lips and finally met the Library’s eyes with a steady look. “If that’s true, prove it. How about you take your clothes off, right now.”

            “Ooh, I know just the right quote for this occasion, even if you won’t fully appreciate it.” The Library’s entire face seemed to light up dramatically and his eyelids dropped in a smoulder that sent a torrent of blood rushing straight to Darryl’s groin. “As you wish.”

Notes:

Next chapter there's gonna be a bunch of monster sex so like. Get ready for that I guess. I'm being self indulgent.

PS I stole the paeden spawns knives idea from the fic Knife to Meet You by DMisforDaddyMaster which is a quality fic go read that shiz if you havent.

Chapter 17: Fucking

Summary:

Darryl and the Library do the nasty while the kids are busy. That's it, that's the chapter.

Notes:

Welcome to the self-indulgent porn chapter. Somehow there is no vore in this, but there IS a lot of TLC and the Library not being good at giving important information, plus some possibly disturbing descriptions of inhuman anatomy, and general Libray being gross humanoid, and this is absolutely monster sex. If it gets too much, that's fine, it's all weird sex here, you aren't missing much to skip the whole chapter if I've lost you on this one.

17 Fucking

            Watching the Library get undressed hurts Darryl’s eyes, but not for any reason that would make him less interested in what was under that brown, tenured professor suit that he always wore. There was something weird about the jacket and shirt. He hadn’t really thought about how a piece of clothing would handle being worn by a being with an uncountable number of limbs. Magic was clearly involved. At first the action seemed natural enough, unbuttoning the jacket and shirt beneath one button at a time for effect (surely with so many hands he could do them all at once if he’d wanted), but when he shucked them from his shoulders, something about the whole image flickered strangely in Darryl’s retinas. There was an uncomfortable overlap and blur of colour and shape that made his eyes hurt. It wasn’t unlike watching a 3D movie without the glasses. Luckily the moment passed quickly enough, and Darryl was left looking at an only somewhat inhuman torso. There was a trail of salt and pepper hair that started on his waspish chest, which appeared as boney as his limbs and each rib was subtly made out along it. It would’ve been unhealthy on a human, but on the Library it seemed to match the rest of his gaunt and sometimes skeletal visage. His strength didn’t come from muscles, that was for sure. The trail of hair continued over his stomach which rounded out into a belly, and disappeared into his trousers.

            The Library trailed a hand over the clasp of his pants and watched Darryl carefully. The man licked his lips unconsciously, and the Library grinned. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

            Darryl didn’t reply. Couldn’t reply. He only swallowed and bit his lip, but that was all the confirmation the Library needed before he unclasped his pants and let them fall carelessly to his ankles, stepping out of them quickly and thrusting his groin out as though for inspection. If Darryl’s short cry of ‘holy fuck’ was any indication, there was a lot to inspect.

            “That’s not a dick!” Was Darryl’s first coherent sentence. The Library hummed. “You said you had a dick! That’s not a dick! That’s a, uh, I don’t even know what to call that.”

            “I believe that octopi have something that looks similar!” The Library chimed in helpfully. “A hectocotylus, which you might associate with a breeding tentacle. Of course, mine work a little differently. It doesn’t break off when I have sex, for one thing.”

            “Uh huh, that’s great, glad to know that’s off the table.” Darryl was nodding rapidly by this point, more in effort to rattle his brain into processing this than in agreement. He had accepted another dick being involved in this situation. He hadn’t always been super comfortable with the idea of anal sex, but he at least knew how that worked and had worked up enough nerve to accept that much. But the thing attached to the Library’s crotch wasn’t a dick. It was smooth, and tapered toward the end, but would occasionally bristle and wiggle in the warm air of the kitchen like a worm, and that was weird, right? That was definitely weird. 

            “I mean I could make it look different if I wanted, I guess,” the Library seemed off-put by Darryl’s clear distress. “But I would have hoped that if you actually intend to go through with this, you’d be willing to accept me as-is. You’re going to make me self-conscious, Darryl.”

            “Oh, er, right, s-sorry.” Darryl stammered, looking away for a moment to recompose himself. Making fun of a guy’s dick in the bedroom is a shit thing to do, even if the bedroom was currently the kitchen. Shit, were they really going to fuck in the kitchen? Darryl looked back at the Library, who was still watching him expectantly. Right, he’d given Darryl control over this. If he called stop, or told him to cover up, the Library said he’d comply with that. It wasn’t like he was going to walk over and force Darryl into this. “I’m going to need a minute.”

            “Take your time,” the Library sighed, walking across the room without any lack of confidence despite Darryl’s outburst. He pulled a chair from the kitchen table and sat astride it with his legs spread wide, not giving Darryl the option to avoid looking at the alien genitalia if he even glanced in the Library’s direction. Well, since he clearly wanted Darryl to look at it, the barbarian made the effort to screw up his nerve to actually examine the thing. Albeit from the safety of halfway across the room.

            It wasn’t really that big, at least. Not anything bigger than anything he’d seen attached to a dude in a porno, anyway. If it was hung limp, it probably wouldn’t have looked any scarier than any flaccid dick. It’s just… it kept moving on its own. That was creepy. “Can you stop it from doing that?”

            “Doing what?”

            “Wiggling.”

            “I could, but then I wouldn’t be aroused anymore, so it would make having sex a bit more difficult.”

            “Oh. That’s fair, I guess.” So it was like an erection, then? Darryl took a breath in through the nose and out through the mouth. It was weird. This was weird. But so was everything in Faerun. Maybe this was okay? “I’m gonna, uh, come over to you? Don’t move though.”

            “Ooh, I like where this is headed already!”

            Darryl didn’t deem that worthy of a response, and so he didn’t give it one. Instead he took one slow, uncertain step after another until he stood above the Library in the chair. It was a compromising position, and Darryl suddenly felt overdressed. And despite all the knee-jerk shock of being faced with the not-dick, Darryl’s own growing erection hadn’t exactly gone down any. So he took a deep breath, and fumbled with the knot in his robe. After about thirty seconds, he realised it wasn’t coming loose.

            “Oh, come on!” Darryl growled, breaking eye contact with the Library to look at what he was doing.

            “Do you want help?”

            “I’ve got this!” Darryl snapped, slapping the Library’s hand away. The gasp the monster gave sounded more interested than hurt. “You said I’m calling the shots, and I’ll tell you if I need help!”

            “Promise?” The Library waited, but Darryl didn’t respond and only continued his struggle. “I might have an easier time getting it from this angle than you do, you know.”

            The knot was souring Darryl’s mood, and he knew it. After another thirty seconds, he finally gave up the reigns. “Fine, okay, you do it.”

            “As you wish!” The Library said cheekily, and using four hands he managed to untie the knot in seconds, leaving the robe hanging loose. The Library pulled his limbs back and held them behind his head. “Better?”

            “Yeah, thanks,” Darryl mumbled. He hesitated a moment before shrugging the robe off his shoulders and letting it pool at his feet. The Library’s eyes traced his body from feet to chest before settling back on his face and making a very calculated wink. Darryl let a pause hang between them before speaking again. “Can I touch it?”

            “By all means!” The Library seemed truly delighted, and his tentacle-dick wriggled happily as well as Darryl’s right hand slowly edged toward it. He told himself it was just a body part. Nothing weird about that. Nothing. Totally cool. He got closer, closer, and at last his fingertips brushed the skin halfway down the length. The Library shuddered. The tentacle-dick was warmer to the touch than Darryl had been expecting, though when he pulled back a little, he noticed a thin film of slime that clung to his pointer finger.

            “Um,” Darryl fought very hard against outright calling it gross. “What’s… is that normal? The uh, slime?”

            “Slime? Oh, that’s just my mucus! Yes, you can think of it as self-lubrication. I believe human vaginas do something similar?”

            The comparison helped. Darryl certainly had no trouble with going down on his wife, so knowing this might be similar to that actually relaxed him enough to move in to touching it again, a little more firmly. He ran his fingers from the base of it down to the tip, biting his lip against yanking his hand back when the whole thing quivered under his touch. He did startle, however, when one of the Library’s limbs darted out and grabbed his shoulder. A look at the monster’s face revealed he had gone rather red. “What’s wrong? Did that hurt?”

            “N-no.” The Library loosed an odd little giggle. “I apologize, I haven’t had anyone touch me like that in… well, in a while. It affected me more than I expected it to.”

            That was interesting. Darryl was overcome by a little rush of heady excitement for having gotten such a response. A tiny half smile tugged at his lips. “Oh you liked that, huh?”

            “Ooh, very much so. I hope there’s more to come?”

            “Yeah, there’s more.” Darryl took the Library’s length up again, cupping his hand under it and drawing his palm down along it as if letting out a line of rope. He got a better feel for it this way, and the occasional squirms felt less like an alien creature this time and more like muscles twitching involuntarily, much like the Library’s hand tightening and loosening on his shoulder. As he warmed to that idea, Darryl repeated the action, this time watching the Library’s gaunt face. The Library wasn’t looking back at him for once, his eyes trained solely on Darryl’s hand as it moved over him. A look of wonder passed over his face, the corners of his mouth frequently twitching up as though he couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. Darryl could relate, he certainly hadn’t expected to be this bold about touching the Library’s version of a cock when he woke up that day.

            On the third pass, Darryl experimented with squeezing gently on his way down, and the Library gasped as something green and shiny beaded up at the tip of the tentacle. Darryl blinked. “Uh, is your pre-come green?” The Library moaned loudly and leaned forward in his seat as Darryl got closer to the tip. Getting a bit more curious, Darryl flicked his thumb over the green bead, and felt a touch of alarm when he realised whatever it was, it wasn’t liquid. It was very firm, and the second he touched it the entire tentacle gave the biggest shudder yet.

            “Oh, I should probably warn you tha- AH!” The Library was cut off with a scream as Darryl ran over the green thing again, harder. That scream was quickly drowned out by Darryl’s own holler over what immediately happened next.

            Like the blooming of a flower made of flesh, the skin around that green tip began peeling backwards, rippling and rolling as it went, splitting along seams that must’ve been too small for Darryl to see, and each shining brightly with the same mucus that had glistened on the outside. Although now there was enough of it that it dripped down the Library’s thighs and onto the chair beneath him. In the center of this flesh flower was what looked like a writhing mass of green tendrils, a few of them reaching out in Darryl’s direction, bizarrely reminding him of Ursula’s creepy lost souls garden from The Little Mermaid.

            “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?!”

            “Hm, I see now I probably should have explained this before it happened. My bad. That one’s on me.” The Library was leaning boneless against the back of his chair and panting between his words. His flush had worked its way down his neck and his entire chest was painted with patches of pink. If he didn’t have a crotch full of the most bizarre shit Darryl had ever seen in his life, he might’ve been more turned on by that. Instead his erection had, mournfully, completely wilted away in shock. The Library seemed to notice that and winced. “Oh no. This was too much, wasn’t it? Too much. Hold on, I think I can-” The Library grunted, his hands clenching into fists as the entire flesh flower shook. After a moment of more intense writhing, the petals of skin began to unroll again, covering up the interior. The Library used a hand to hold it together at its base and appeared to shape it like clay until the whole thing was wrapped back in its tentacle shape again, still squirming occasionally. Only now Darryl knew it wasn’t just muscles twitching under it.

            The Library finished by pressing down hard on the tip and gasped again, releasing it and looking up at Darryl with incredibly blown pupils. “I-is that better? I-it shouldn’t unfurl itself again where you can see it. It’s okay like this, right?”

            “Uhh, Jesus.” Darryl bit his lip and his eyes darted for the door and down to his robe a couple of times before looking back at the Library. “Look, I’m really sorry, but I definitely am not in the mood anymore. That just… I don’t know if I can come back from that.”

            The Library whined and shut his eyes for a long moment as Darryl started to seriously contemplate bending down to grab his robe. Finally the Library seemed to compose himself enough slap his knees and get to his feet, though only standing tall enough to look Darryl in the eyes. “Will you at least give me the chance to try to get you back in the mood?”

            “Um…” Well, he had wanted to be distracted. And he wanted to feel good. Would it hurt to let him try? Maybe he shouldn’t overthink it, but he should be careful, too. “Can I set boundaries?”

            “Absolutely, Darryl! I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable!” As he said this, several of the Library’s limbs reached out to rest of Darryl’s shoulders and he leaned in much closer to Darryl’s face. The barbarian’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t try to escape the hold.

            “Uh huh. Look, I don’t want to make you feel bad about your junk, but that really freaked me out. So whatever you’re gonna do, don’t do anything else weird like that.”

            “That’s pretty vague,” the Library frowned, “How am I supposed to know what’s weird for you before I try it?”

            “Okay, how about this: you have to tell me everything you’re going to do before you do it, and I’ll let you know if it’s too weird.”

            The Library looked thoughtful for a moment, then gave a careless shrug. “Yeah, pretty sure I can do that. In that case, first I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

            “Are you going to use your tongue?”

            A heavy sigh. “No. Though if I did, I could just heal your wounds after?”

            “No tongue.”

            “No tongue.” The Library agreed, though seemed a bit downhearted over it as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Darryl’s. He’d lost track of how many times the Library had kissed him by this point, despite knowing it hadn’t been that many. He seemed to have gotten better at it. His lips moved very naturally with Darryl’s, and his fingers threaded into Darryl’s hair to gently knead his scalp at the same time. It felt good. Maybe not enough to arouse, but he did feel a little more calm by the time the Library gave him a moment to breathe. “Can I lick your face?”

            Darryl scowled. “I just said no tongue!”

            “I won’t lick it hard!”

            “God, forget it!” Darryl tried pulling away, but the Library clung to his biceps, stopping him in his tracks. Darryl’s heartbeat sped up. “Let go!”

            The Library’s hands dropped fast, but he still stepped toward Darryl as he backed away. “Fair enough! I won’t lick you, I promise. No tongue. Can I try again?” Darryl glared. “Please?”

            The please sort of did it. Darryl felt reluctant over it all, but he still felt pretty crumby, and he had enjoyed the kiss… “Okay. But don’t even fucking joke about that. I’m not a masochist.”

            “You did like the spanking, though!”

            “Maybe,” Darryl admitted grudgingly, “But that didn’t hurt, really.”

            “True. Not a masochist, then.” The Library trailed a finger down Darryl’s arm as though testing the waters. When he didn’t resist, the Library took that as permission to move in again, pulling Darryl’s naked body up against his front. The tentacle immediately squirmed and nuzzled up to Darryl’s flaccid dick, partially wrapping around it and…

            “Y-your dick vibrates?” Darryl squeaked.

            “Oops, I should’ve told you about that too, huh? Sorry, I can make it let go if you want.”

            The pure sensation was enough to start up the tell-tale pin pricks of pleasure, and Darryl’s erection was whispering back to life again. “N-no, it’s okay. This is fine.” Darryl closed his eyes as the Library’s many limbs encircled him, rubbing slow circles into his shoulders and stroking his hair, gradually adding more down his back until a pair found their way to his ass and gave it a good squeeze. Darryl grunted and made an involuntary thrust forward, his hands reaching up to grab at the Library’s hips as the tentacle dick squeezing his own and squirming along the length of it, going so far as to nuzzle at its tip. Yep, he was definitely interested again. “Fuck, you win.” Darryl muttered, feeling a little put out by how easily the Library managed to get him into this state. The tentacle squeezed him again and he pressed his mouth into the Library’s neck to muffle a moan, breathing out hard through his nose.

            “Mm, my lovely Darryl.” The Library’s lips caressed the shell of Darryl’s ear as he spoke into it. “Every moment I spend with you pressed up against me like this, it only makes me want more.” His arms tightened, and Darryl felt some air escape his lungs. “You are absolutely marvelous to hold onto. So soft, so tender, just the right amount of give, really. So very much hot, supple flesh, and all for me to enjoy!”

            Darryl was very glad his face was pressed into the crook of the Library’s neck, because he was certain it had gone very red. Getting talked about like a choice cut of steak shouldn’t turn him on, but… well, he was getting a dick massage and had more hands running over his bare skin than he can remember ever happening in a sexual context. Plus the whole Pavlovian circumstance of having most recent blow jobs lead up to being actually used as a choice cut of steak was probably playing a factor. Either way, if the Library kept talking like that, Darryl might not last too much longer.

            Just as his dick began to swell more with need, the Library’s tentacle abruptly decided to stop dead in its ministrations, and Darryl was left to only whine into the Library’s shoulder and thrust forward again, trying to get friction. Sadly, the tentacle only stayed wrapped around him and wouldn’t allow itself to be rubbed against. “W-why’d you stop?”

            “Do you really want to come like this?”

            “I-I’d be okay with it, yeah.”

            “I was still kind of hoping to use this part.” The Library’s long finger took that opportunity to slip between Darryl’s buttocks and traced over the hole nestled between them. Darryl’s whole body shook, and as his eyes flew wide he realised he had been alarmingly close to coming right there. The Library didn’t seem to miss that as he began to gently press a fingertip against the tight pucker. “Does that sound nice to you, too?”

            That was hard to say. Darryl was definitely sweating harder as the Library began to put a short rhythm into his pressing, dipping just a little into the ring of muscle as though trying to coax it open. Actually, that was probably exactly what he was doing. Darryl couldn’t say he explored that part of himself much. Carol had no interest in his asshole, and he had seen no reason for her to have any. There had been some soft questions from Henry after they’d kissed for the third time, but that had ended with Darryl firmly telling him that no matter what he might have felt for him, he wasn’t going to have an extra-marital affair. So much for that assertion now.

            He’d already done so many things he absolutely never though he’d do since entering this world, and definitely more than he expected since the Library took disturbing interest in him. Was this really so different? Henry was really open about how he and Mercedes took turns topping, and he said he liked it. His orgasm that had been so close only a minute before had settled back into a more general need, so it didn’t feel quite so urgent an issue.

            “Surely it wouldn’t hurt you to try,” the Library persuaded, and damn if he didn’t have advantage on persuasion, “If it gets to be too much, I can stop.”

            “I know,” Darryl said quickly, and he did know. He wasn’t sure why he was so certain of it, though he might’ve been able to work it out if his dick wasn’t throbbing so much, but he knew if he firmly told the Library he didn’t want him to penetrate him, he wouldn’t. At least not now. “Um, just… b-be careful okay?”

            The Library practically purred, and the finger was removed. Instead, several limbs cupped themselves under Darryl’s ass and lifted him up and against the monster as he was walked slowly in a circle and then carefully, reverently, settled onto the kitchen table. Darryl let go of the Library as he was released from his limbs, and he shivered from the lack of body heat when the Library took the opportunity to stand back and look at him. It was very similar to how he looked at him when trying to decide what part of him he was going to have for dinner that night, and that fact made Darryl shiver for a different reason.

            “I don’t want to do it here!” he said suddenly as the Library began to move toward him again. The monster stopped and tilted his head.

            “What’s wrong with here?”

            Darryl groaned and rubbed his temples. “I don’t- Jesus, can’t I have one thing I don’t have to associate with you eating me?”

            “But you wanted me to swallow you during sex, earlier! You said so!” The Library seemed genuinely confused.

            “That’s different!”

            “How?”

            “How? Jesus, okay. Well for one, when you just swallow me whole, it’s kinda gross but it’s never hurt, and I don’t typically feel like I’m going to die, and sometimes it’s… sometimes it’s kind of… nice.” His face felt very hot. “But when you’re chopping me up, even when I don’t feel it, I still can remember when it did hurt, and it’s disturbing watching you yank parts of me off, and… and I just feel…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Kinda helpless.”

            “But you don’t feel helpless when I swallow you?”

            “It’s different. Look, I’m not telling you to stop cause I know by now you won’t, and I’m okay with the blow jobs before you do it because I think they help me deal with it. But not… this. Please.”

            “Hm.” When Darryl cracked his eyes open, the Library appeared thoughtful. When he spoke, the words came out even and measured. “Alright. Should we take this to your bedroom, then?”

            Darryl could have cried from relief.

*

            They didn’t run into the kids in the hall, which was good because although Darryl had gotten his robe back on, the Library had only thrown on his pants and it would’ve been pretty hard to deny what they were about to get up to. Not that Darryl was especially worried about how his son would react necessarily, but he didn’t think Grant needed to know exactly when and where his dad was getting down and dirty. As soon as the door was firmly shut, Darryl grabbed the chair from the desk and jammed it under the door handle.

            “Don’t want to be disturbed this time, hmm?” The Library asked as he wasted no time getting his pants off again.

            “I don’t want any more kids seeing more than they should.” Darryl grimaced as he remembered the look on Grant’s face on top of the book pile and then did his best to brush that image away. He didn’t want to think about him in the face of what he had resolved to do.

            “Fair enough.” The Library crawled up to kneel on the small bed and gestured for Darryl to join him. Nodding more to himself than his would-be lover, Darryl let his robe fall from his shoulders and joined the Library on the bed.

            “Should I, er, get on hands and knees?” Darryl winced at the phrasing, and actually felt relieved when the Library shook his head.

            “We might go into that later, but I’d rather be able to watch your face while I’m getting you ready. I’m not entirely sure you’ll stop me if it hurts, so I’d feel better if I can watch out for that myself. Just lie on your back and get comfortable.” One of the Library’s hands was then shoved into his mouth a bit too far, hacked on, and came out absolutely coated in slime. Or maybe mucus. Either way, it was vaguely gross and kind of intimidating. Darryl swallowed, but let himself fall backwards against his pillows, staring at the ceiling and unsure how he got there as he felt the Library’s limbs run along the inside of his thighs to part them, and then down to his calves.  His legs were lifted straight up and onto the Library’s shoulders, where more limbs were waiting to hold them securely, and leaving his tender parts on full display.

            By this point, Darryl was pretty sure his whole body must’ve been red and sweating, but that didn’t seem to put the Library off any. In fact, before the monster even bothered to touch his butt or cock or anything else, he spent time just looking at Darryl, eyes trained on his face until Darryl gave in and made eye contact with him, bottom lip firmly caught between his teeth in apprehension.

            As the Library firmly caressed the inside of Darryl’s thigh, watching it quiver in his wake, he smiled that signature Cheshire cat smile. “Well, well, well, aren’t you a pretty boy.”

            “Oh my god.”

            “Yes you are!” The Library’s slimy index finger finally began tracing Darryl’s hole again, the slick reducing the friction but making the shallow, thrusting entry a lot easier. Darryl huffed out a breath through his nose and closed his eyes as the finger kept moving, ever so gradually deeper, and the Library kept talking. “I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t exactly picture wanting to sample your flesh this way when we first met, but if I’d seen you like this, I don’t think I’d have ever left you alone.”

            “Do you have to talk?” Darryl mumbled, turning his head to look nervously at the jammed door. “You don’t need to flatter me, you’ve already got me in bed with you.”

            “Did you never flatter your wife in the bedroom?”

            “Can we really not bring up Carol?” Darryl grimaced. “Er, I guess I did, though.”

            “And did she not flatter you?”

            “She did, well, she used to… I don’t know.”

            “Well I want to flatter you, so I will. You aren’t going to escape from that, so you may as well learn to enjoy it.” The Library continued to grin as his finger thrust in the furthest yet and wriggled in a way that Darryl was pretty sure a finger usually couldn’t wiggle. It brushed against something inside him that made his muscles tighten as a wave of pleasure rushed through him. Darryl’s head fell back as he loosed an involuntary moan.

            “Shit, is that- was that my prostate?” Darryl had a prostate exam before, obviously, but the doctor had never touched it like that. Henry hadn’t been lying, that had felt good as hell.

            “I’m pretty sure. It felt nice, right?” The Library wiggled his finger again over the spot, and Darryl was certainly rock hard now, his dick hanging and leaking all over his belly. His eyes widened and his hands clutched at the blanket beneath him when he felt a second finger prodding at his entrance alongside the first. “You are being so good for me, my dear Darryl. It seems as though every day I find some new angle of you to admire.” The second finger slipped into him, and he hissed at the burn. The Library immediately pulled his fingers out in alarm, and Darryl felt oddly empty in their absence.

            “I-I’m fine, you don’t have to stop.”

            “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice on this one. You said you don’t like pain, so I won’t let you feel any. Too late now, you shan’t change my mind. But don’t worry darling, I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of.” The Library leaned in over him, pressing his thighs up to his stomach and folding him in half so that he could press a single, hot kiss to Darryl’s stubbly cheek. The dad whimpered as a hand brushed some of his curly brown hair off his forehead, and the Library left a kiss there as well. It was so tender, too tender. Too much.

            “Stop. I don’t- you don’t have to- I don’t care if it hurts a bit. It’s fine. Stop talking like that.”

            A pair of hands grabbed the sides of Darryl’s face and forced him to look at the monster hanging over him, and Darryl felt a lump grow in his throat. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but it hadn’t been concern. It was definitely too much. Now he couldn’t blink, because his eyes were feeling wet, and he was not going to cry in this position just because someone was actually looking at him like he was something precious. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t his role to play. But he was here, and this was happening, and he couldn’t bring himself to fully voice his fearful desire to escape from it.

            “I am going to take care of you, Darryl. I don’t care how many times I have to say it, and I don’t care if you want me to or not.” The Library finally backed away and resumed his position at Darryl’s ass again. He shoved his hand back down his throat and hacking harder this time, positively drenching his fingers before returning them to Darryl’s hole. He pressed two digits against him and gently tried to work both inside at once. Darryl cringed, and the Library’s eyes narrowed. “Still hurts?”

            “… kinda.”

            “Well, I suppose they do say that if it’s not dripping from the ceiling, you’re not using enough,” the Library muttered, more to himself than Darryl. Then without further ado, the Library leaned in and sealed his lips around Darryl’s asshole, and sounded off his loudest hack yet. The barbarian let out a shriek of alarm as he suddenly learned what a cold lube enema felt like. He would’ve kicked his legs out if they weren’t still held firm where there were, and so he scrambled at the blankets instead as the alien sensation of getting filled with something cool and slimy settled into him. When the Library’s mouth released him, the slime was visibly running down the monster’s chin, and Darryl had to fight for coherency.

            “I- what- you- what the fuck? What the actual FUCK?”

            The Library wiped uselessly at his chin with the back of an arm, but his eyes were full of mirth. “You can’t tell me that hurt.”

            “No, but it was weird!”

            “I see. Well, before you knock it, let’s try this again.” This time when the Library pressed the fingers into him, both slid inside so easily that it was as if Darryl’s ass had been designed just for them, and the second they rubbed against his prostate the discomfort over the impromptu douching fled in the wake of fierce pleasure. He thrashed against the mattress as the Library slid in a third finger with only a minimal amount of resistance, and though the stretch was still noticeable and ached a bit, there was no burning accompanying it. It was as though the slime had numbed and soothed the area before it was touched. “No pain?” Darryl shook his head. “Splendid!” The Library continued his thrusting and wiggling with three fingers for a while, gently spreading them apart here and there, and when he finally withdrew them Darryl felt the odd sensation of his asshole flexing on the air.

            “God, that probably looks nasty,” Darryl laughed a little, but the Library was the one to shake his head this time.

            “Not as nasty as you’d think. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you look absolutely beautiful.”

            That was really too much, and Darryl actually laughed. “You’re full of shit. I know I’m not beautiful.”

            “I have to disagree with you, hot stuff. You have quite a lot going for you. Thick hair, pretty eyes, muscular, a cute, round belly…” the Library trailed a finger over his love handle and Darryl’s mouth twitched. “You truly are a lovely sight, Darryl. I couldn’t have picked a better pet to care for.”

            Darryl rolled his eyes. “I’m not a pet.”

            “Are too.”

            “Am not!”

            The Library sighed as he leaned over Darryl again, but this time paying more attention to lining up his wriggling length with Darryl’s entrance. The barbarian held his breath as he felt the tapered tip brush against him, though it didn’t enter just yet. “You are beautiful. You are my pet. I am happy to have the privilege of taking care of you, like this. Mark my words, darling, I am going to make you accept all of that, eventually.”

            Darryl scoffed. “Good luck with that.”

            His answering smile was dazzling. “Ooh, I’m not going to need luck, but thank you anyway!” And with that, the Library’s squirming tentacle dick began to worm its way into him, and Darryl’s eyes went wide as saucers. His mouth dropped open in a silent ‘oh’.

            The slimy mucus eased the way considerably, and the Library met little resistance as he burrowed inside of him. It was different from the fingers. Though it started out narrow, it rapidly widened, and Darryl was left panting openly as it felt like something hot and alive was trying to get all the way up into his bowels. It was alien, and intense, and it kept vibrating and squirming so much, he thought there was no way he was going to last long this way. He also didn’t seem to be able to do more than grunt and moan as the Library’s hips began to move, and that felt strange too, because he wasn’t working with a hard shaft. Instead the wriggling length within him was pulled out with the uneven suction of a cracked bathtub stopper, and then left to worm its way back in again and again. It was like nothing he had ever experienced, and frankly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it beyond the knowledge that his vision was starting to blur at the corners, and yet he still wasn’t quite making it over the edge. He blindly groped for his erection, only to have his hand grabbed tightly and pulled aside.

            “I-I can’t, I need to-” Darryl gasped as the Library’s hand took up his erection instead.

            “I told you, I will be the one taking care of you from now on, so you don’t need to worry about a thing!” The Library began to expertly stroke Darryl’s weeping cock, and Darryl could do nothing but squeeze the hand holding his and gasp for air as he grew rapidly closer to release.

            When his orgasm finally came, it rushed over him like a wave, drowning and overstimulating him into a shuddering wreck. Yet even in that state, the Library’s tentacle only writhed harder inside of him, setting his nerves on edge to the point where he couldn’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks. He was feeling everything, way too much, and it was overwhelming him. As far as his mind was concerned, nothing existed in the world besides his too-hot body and the monster that continued to assault it.

            “Too much, too much, so much,” Darryl felt a sob come to his throat as the Library moved faster.

            “I’m sorry, I’m so close Darryl. Please, just allow it a little longer, my sweet, my- oh!” The Library seemed as surprised by his own release as Darryl was, which was astounding, because at least the Library presumably knew what happened when he orgasmed. Darryl was left absolutely screaming as it felt as though the tentacle in his ass split had apart within him and flooded him with even more slippery goo and numerous tendrils that flowed further into his insides, further than anything should have, definitely. Darryl’s cock jumped hard with a second, dry orgasm, and he saw white.

            It seemed that this at last was really too much for him, and Darryl passed out.

            It had felt like a long blink, for Darryl. One moment he was screaming and feeling too much at once, the next lying exhausted on his side with delicate circles being rubbed into his back and shoulders by someone lying close behind him. Well, they had to be close. It wasn’t a wide bed. Darryl groaned as his insides ached, and turned to bury his face into the pillow.

            “Soooo, I probably should have warned you about that part too, huh?”

            “Shut up,” Darryl mumbled as he laboriously turned himself around, threw an arm around the Library’s waist, and buried his face into the monster’s neck. “Everything hurts and I’m tired. Just shut up and don’t move.”

            There was silence for about a minute before, “So… it… wasn’t good?”

            Darryl huffed but didn’t lift his head. Frankly, the whole thing had made his skin crawl, but not necessarily in a bad way, and he definitely wasn't aware enough to think too hard on that one. “Let me sleep on it. I’ll tell you later.” Maybe he’d roll for constitution.

            “Did… did you want me to stay all night? Or just until you fall asleep?”

            “Does it matter?” Darryl’s voice was starting to slur as his brain followed the lethargy of his limbs.

            “Well it’s just... I don’t sleep? So this is going to be kind of boring if you’re just going to-?” The Library paused as his pet let out a deep snore. “Oh dear. I do wish I had left that gardening book in here.”

*

            Grant and Paeden had spent the last several hours in the main hall. Grant was pouring over two books at once, making notes on some scraps of paper with a stick of charcoal that Paeden had found somewhere. Paeden had apparently scoped out the whole castle and had spent the last two hours practicing the ability to run straight up the walls. He only got to a point where he was making it two steps up before falling flat on his back, but it seemed he had finally succumbed to energy depletion and had fallen asleep on the floor.

            But Grant continued his research. He knew he was on the right track for this. He had gained a basic idea of what sort of magic the Library was using on his dad, and he thought, maybe, he would be able to make a shield against it. It might not be permanent, or completely effective, but it only needed to work long enough to get into Ravenloft again. He might not have the power to get rid of the Library, but he suspected the grandads would, and it seemed like the smart play was to let the big bads all finish each other off while they made their escape.

            Grant was going to save everyone. He had to. It was his turn to take care of things this time, whether his dad liked it or not.

Chapter 18: Persuasion

Summary:

Grant launches the first step of his plan to save his dad, and the Library might be getting in too deep.

Notes:

Soooooooo a lot of these chapters are getting longer than expected? Especially recently. I wanted to get a lot further this chapter but it's already gotten this long. So fair warning that, although I haven't changed the chapter count yet, this story will likely be a few more chapters than currently advertised by the end of it.

18 Persuasion

            It was another week before Grant had a breakthrough. During that time, he spent every waking minute his dad wasn’t trying to force food down his throat in the main hall, pouring over book after book. His dad would sometimes join him for short periods, but he wasn’t much of a reader. He would spend half an hour on a book, only make it fifteen pages in, and then mumble something about a headache and leave. Paeden was no help, bouncing off the walls as he was. He only had patience to read some of the graphic novels in the kid’s books pile. One look at whatever Grant was reading was enough to make him doze. So without help, Grant knew he couldn’t afford to stop.

            His dad had already told him about the Library’s promise, but Grant didn’t buy it for a second. The Library told his dad that if he came up with not one, but two plans, ones that the Library approves of, only then would he help them save their friends? First of all, his dad doesn’t plan much besides meals and subpar sports strategies from what Grant had seen. He couldn’t even understand Fortnite, so how the hell was he going to come up with even one halfway decent plan? And what’s to stop the Library from vetoing literally anything they came up with, anyway? Plus he had said his dad couldn’t ask Glenn and Scam for help, and Grant hadn’t seen his dad’s cell phone at all since he got to the castle. The Library probably had it, and Grant’s was still with the grandads, meaning the Library had managed to cut off their helplines and make planning even harder.

            Grant had been observing the Library. It was pretty easy to do. When he wasn’t hovering over his dad like a creepy vulture, he spent hours sitting in the main hall reading just like Grant was. The only difference being that the Library didn’t seem to have any focus on what he was reading about. He would seem to grab a book at random when he came in, read it all in one sitting, and then place it carefully back in the pile he got it from and grab another, wash rinse repeat. Genre, age-group, fiction or non-fiction, none of that seemed to matter. He never seemed to read the same book twice that Grant had noticed, though, so it couldn’t be entirely random. He also noticed that absolutely nothing the Library was reading seemed to have anything to do with infiltrating Castle Ravenloft, so that was another nail in the coffin for the Library’s supposed helpful intentions.

            Also when he said the Library hung over his dad like a creepy vulture, he meant creepy in the most pervy way possible. It was bad enough to know your parents are getting a divorce. It was worse when your dad was doing a shit job of hiding the fact he was sleeping with the monster that was holding them captive in his castle. Sure, Grant knew better than to open any door without knocking, but the Library spent every second he and his dad were in the same room hanging over his shoulder, or holding his hands, or hugging him from behind, or nuzzling his ears… or nuzzling his face… and the worst part of THAT was that his dad’s protests over it seemed to be way more focused on the fact that Grant was there than over the actions themselves.

            Grant had no idea how it got to this point, but his dad had been seduced by what he has fully acknowledged to be a flesh eating monster. That was difficult to deal with, to say the least. Paeden didn’t seem to understand Grant’s distress over the matter either, which was frustrating.

            “Whatever, I think it’s cool,” the eight year old had shrugged.

            “Cool? How can it be cool?! The Library eats people! My dad told us that!”

            “Eh, Darryl’s a tough guy, he can handle it. I think it just kind of makes him cooler, you know? Like, even the big powerful monster guy can’t get enough of him.”

            Grant had stared at Paeden for a long time and then went back to his books. Paeden, luckily, took neither offense nor notice and instead started carving his name in the wall with one of his many knives.

            But after a week of searching, yes, Grant finally thought he had managed to come up with a plan. Not one the Library would approve of, and not one that would either allow or require a backup plan, but a plan that would get his dad out of this place, save the others, hopefully put an end to all their problems at once, and get them back home before anything else could go wrong.

            It was risky, but having put off getting lunch for an hour after hearing his dad’s whining and the Library’s lilting praises wafting through the kitchen door, Grant was feeling desperate enough to give it a try. However, the first thing he was going to have to do was be very, very persuasive. For that, timing would be everything.

            After a week of tracking both his dad’s and the Library’s usual daily routines, trying to pick as little at the details as possible, Grant managed to convince Paeden to go lure his dad into a game of catch in the courtyard just after lunch (his dad had tried to make Grant come with them, but as much as Grant didn’t like the disappointment on his father’s face, this was for his own good). With those two out of the way, Grant settled into his usual place against the book pile with a tome in his lap. This time, however, the book was incidental. He had already found and memorized the pamphlet on Library Rules and Regulations, and had found some second hand accounts of the Library’s practices. The book in front of him now was a low-level curse-breaking guide, one he had already memorized most of. It didn’t matter, he just needed the Library to think he was reading it.

            In the first couple of days Grant had been in the Library’s castle, back when he still wasn’t sure what the Library even was or what he wanted with his dad (he missed that ignorance at times), the Library had actually been a lot more talkative and helpful. As soon as he saw Grant was picking over the books, he happily directed him toward the healing spell books he wanted, and even asked how his research was going at times. Since his dad had gotten the Library’s ‘promise to help’ however, the Library seemed to avoid speaking to Grant. Easy enough to do, since Grant didn’t exactly want to engage with him either. Now, though, he had to. So Grant drummed up his courage, lowered his book, and peered around the pile at the monster holding them captive.

            The Library was lounging on the wood chair in the corner like it was the most comfortable armchair in the world, which was definitely not the case, and it made Grant wonder if the Library simply had no desire for comfort or if the chair was enchanted in some way. It was weird. Well, everything else about the Library was weird too, so maybe he shouldn’t fixate on that. The Library was reading a novel, by the looks of things. The title, ‘The King’s Man’, didn’t seem especially educational, and the Library had been grabbing more from the fiction pile recently. Deliberately unhelpful.

            Grant took a deep breath and got to his feet. He sensed more than saw the Library’s attention flicker to him for the briefest moment before losing himself in his literature once more. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Grant unexpectedly got up to go to the bathroom or grab a light snack, so it wouldn’t cause much of a reaction. He set his book back on the pile and marched at a forcibly even pace until he was standing directly in front of the Library, arms jerking first up to fold across his chest and then thinking better of it he dropped them to hold stiffly at his sides instead.

            He cleared his throat loudly. “Ehem, hey.”

            The Library wasn’t moving much before, but now he seemed to freeze like a statue. One of his hands ever so slowly raised a finger as though to ask for one moment. Then it descended to carefully rest against the page of his book to though hold his place before his face inched upward, eyes wide and glazed as he looked blankly at Grant. When he continued to wait, the Library blinked twice and Grant realized he expected him to speak.

            “Right, um,” Grant shifted in place, put off by his own voice echoing back at him from the walls. “So I’ve been doing some reading. And uh, I have some questions.” Grant winced as the Library’s blank expression was broken by his lips twisting upward into his trademarked, too-wide smile.

            “Ah yes, of course, you are an inquiring young mind! I would be happy to answer any questions you have, though I do change a fee for that service.”

            “Knowledge for knowledge, I know.”

            “Ooh, you have been studying up. And studying about me, if I’m not mistaken?”

            Grant bit his lip, but nodded. No sense lying about that, the Library knew exactly what he had been reading. From what he could tell, the books were a part of the Library, somehow, and Grant had done most of his reading in the same room as the monster even if he wasn’t directly in his line of sight.

            “Well ask away, then. Although if the questions are all about me, I would expect a rather steeper price for anything that might be, oh shall we say, dangerous for a young boy such as yourself to know.”

            “Yeah, that makes sense.” Grant nodded again, more sharply this time. He knew what he had to ask, but he wasn’t sure what it would cost. He hoped he could make this next part work for him. “Um, since I’m a kid, though, I was hoping I could invoke the handicap where I don’t have to just volunteer knowledge, and you have to ask me a question instead.”

            The Library hummed, leaning his cheek against in one of his palms. “I suppose that seems fair, although that’s more of a quiz usually. I would normally be testing the young kiddies on what they had been reading, but I suspect that you’ve prepared for that possibility. In fact, from what I’ve seen of you, you seem to be at a rather advanced reading level. So I propose that I ask you questions, but they can be about anything I choose, not simply what you’ve been reading lately.”

            Not the best Grant had been hoping for, but definitely better than going in blind and just hoping what he offered was worth what he was asking for. Besides, he doubted there was too much the Library could ask that would be a problem to answer. The Library wasn’t omniscient from what he could tell, so if Grant was very careful, he should be able to lie to him if he had to. “I accept that.”

            “Very well. What are your questions?”

            “First, I read in the Library rules and regulations that if you, the Library, were to ever destroy a book, you would have to destroy yourself because the rule against destroying your books still applies to you.” The Library’s smile was unreadable, but didn’t budge. “Is that the only way to get rid of you?”

            “Wow, you don’t pull any punches, do you?” The Library twiddled a couple of thumbs as he stared at the ceiling. “Let me see… you may have the answer in exchange for the answer to the question: ‘Who would you want to live with once your parents are divorced, Darryl or your mother?’”

            Grant balked. “Why would you care about that?”

            “It’s not so much about caring as it is about equal exchange… but, since Darryl plans to give you the choice, I’d like to know what your preference would be.”

            His brow furrowed in thought. “I guess… my dad. Mom works a lot, so I’d probably just be in the way if I was living with her most of the time.”

            “Hmm. Interesting. Well, the answer is yes, there are other ways to kill me, if that’s what you mean by ‘get rid of’.”

            Silence stretched between them for a bit. “Uh… and those would be?”

            “That wasn’t your question, was it? You asked if ways exist, and they do. If you want to know what those ways are, that would require a greater exchange of knowledge than I think you would possess.”

            Grant’s eyes narrowed. He knew it would be harder than that. “What would I have to answer?”

            “How do you kill an elder god?” The Library grinned so wide Grant could hear his skin stretching.

            “How am I supposed to-? God, um, I guess…” Grant’s eyes closed as he thought it over, both to concentrate and to stop looking at those pearly white fangs. “Um… stop… believing in it?”

            The Library’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. “Huh, that’s a clever answer. Especially for a child. Clever, definitely not correct, I would know. But I do like seeing a clever answer…” The Library stroked his chin. “That still deserves a reward. Alright, I’ll tell you this. In the time since he has been here, I have given your father enough clues that if he bothered to put them together, he could find one or two other ways to kill me. So if you managed to ask him the right questions, you might be able to figure it out.”

             Grant blinked, working to keep his face carefully blank. Luckily, ever since he stopped being able to feel much beyond small bursts of rage, keeping his face blank had become a lot easier. “Okay, uh, thanks.”

            “Also, just a little freebie, the most effective ways to kill me require a level of magic you would need decades to reach on your own. You really would be better off being a good boy and not trying anything stupid. You’ll find I’m far better to have as an ally than an enemy. Your father can attest to that one.”

            Jaw set in stone, Grant decided to ignore that jab and press forward. He had more to ask about. “In all the books I’ve read about you, none of them mention a castle or anything. You walk from town to town and lend books out, but I haven’t seen you do that at all. Why aren’t you travelling?”

            “Oh, that’s much easier.” The Library laughed. “I’m tempted to give you that one for free, but I just can’t give up a chance for a little more knowledge. You may have the answer in exchange for the answer to the question: ‘What are five things Darryl likes?’”

            Grant made a face. “I’m not helping you seduce my dad.”

            “I don’t need your help with that, I’ve already been there done that.” The Library shrugged and Grant supressed a shudder. “But surely you would like to help me make your father happy?”

            “He likes freedom. And my mom.” Grant glared at the Library, but the monster did nothing more than look expectant. Grant rolled his eyes and thought about it, dragging out the rest of his answer. “And… football? Beer. Um, surprising people? I don’t know, he likes dad stuff.”

            The Library nodded along with the last few items, seeming thoughtful. “Hm, yes, I can work with that, I believe. To answer your question, the castle was a, hm, shall we say a ‘gift’ from your father’s friends. I never had a place to stay for an extended period before, and I suppose I’m just impulsively trying something new. As always, I kind of just do what I want.” The Library sighed wistfully, staring at empty space over Grant’s shoulder. “Although, admittedly, I do miss stretching my legs. And tearing apart screaming children who return their books late. And sharing my collection of knowledge with the world. But alas, that will have to wait.”

            “How come?”

            “Well unfortunately, I cannot trust your father to not do something utterly stupid while I’m gone. Until I can trust that he isn’t going to try to run the second I’m too far away to actively stop him, I’m stuck.”

            “Why can’t you just bring him with you?”

            This time the Library balked. “Bring him? I couldn’t possibly…” The Library trailed off as his mind switched tracks. “Although I suppose with him leashed as he is, he couldn’t really wander off too far. Not to mention it would be good exercise… stimulating… hm. You know what? I’m going to give that some serious thought! Perhaps we can make a trip to the village Paeden’s father is in, Rocqueporte was it? Darryl said something about wanting to return him.”

            “Something like that, yeah.” Grant kept his tone neutral, but inside he felt some quiet satisfaction. His plan had worked. Rocqueporte wasn’t as close to Ravenloft as he’d like, but it was closer than here from what he could tell, and it would be way easier to get away from the Library if they weren’t stuck in a castle with only one exit the Library couldn’t shut at will, and that one only accessible through a maze that would take too long to navigate and the Library knew where it came out anyway. “I agree. We should definitely go bring Paeden back home.”

            “Wait,” the Library squinted at Grant for a moment. “You wouldn’t happen to have an alternative reason for wanting me to take Darryl out of the castle, would you?”

            “No.” Grant lied, and very smoothly. He had been practicing that one. The Library kept looking at him, clearly trying to divine his honesty.

            “Hm, well, in case you do…” The Library’s hand shot out so fast Grant could do nothing but gasp as it twisted into the collar of his shirt and jerked him forward, nearly off his feet. The Library’s face was a foot from his own, and he could hear the click of the monster’s fangs as he spoke. “Your father is my property. More so than this castle. Nearly as much as my books. Maybe even on par, that’s still to be tested. If I find you have run off with Darryl, I will consider you to have ‘borrowed’ him, and if he is not returned, there will be punishment in store. Although…” the Library released his hold, and Grant grabbed at his throat with both hands, quickly backing away and staring at the Library in sinking horror. “I will only kill you if you manage to get Darryl killed, but don’t let that put you at ease. I can do plenty of things to make you miserable without killing you. Maybe I ought to let Darryl know that too, it might stop him from needlessly endangering himself again.” The Library trailed off on a mutter.

            “F-fuck you,” Grant said, voice shaking, a bubble of rage in his gut. “My dad doesn’t- he isn’t your property! You can’t own people!”

            “You yourself have been sold into slavery before, were you not? You were property of the Four Knights arena… actually, you may still be considered ‘stolen goods’. Did winning the game also win you your freedom? I should look into that. If not I suppose I could just buy you from them.”

            Grant’s rage popped before it could bloom, a chill settling under his skin instead. Was he still property of the arena? Could they demand him back? Could the Library really buy him? Even as he shivered, he could feel the welcoming numbing spread through his skull, burying his emotions again. “N-no, I’m pretty sure winning would mean I don’t have to play anymore if I don’t want to… I think…”

            “Well at any rate, you’re perfectly safe here.” The Library’s usual smile had returned. It looked so mild-mannered and goofy, it was hard to believe that a monster lived behind it. “I will discuss the matter of Paeden with Darryl, and we will let you know what is decided. Is that everything you needed?”

            “Yeah, yeah that’s… no, um. One more thing.” He had debated on asking it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but if he didn’t, he was afraid he might hurt his dad worse than he had to. “Do you think my dad’s…” Grant winced, “…in love with you?”

            The Library’s grin dropped immediately, and instead he gaped at Grant open-mouthed for a moment. Finally he began sputtering. “I- what? How would I-? I d-didn’t, fuck, I don’t know!” The Library seemed so frazzled at Grant’s question that the teen had to marvel at it. “He hasn’t said he is? But I suppose that doesn’t… do you think…?” The Library coughed into his fist and shut his eyes, steadying himself with a deep breath. “Do you think your father’s, erm, in l-love with me?” The end of the sentence came as a squeak, and Grant blinked, cheeks tinting pink.

            “I-I don’t think he is.” Grant shook his head, grimacing as he looked at his shoes. “But uh, I guess I also don’t want him to be. So I might’ve missed it if he was.”

            “Right.” The Library smoothed down his hair, which had begun to stand on end. “Well, yes. I don’t believe Darryl is in love with me, no. Not yet, at least. Maybe he will, one day. However,” a smile tugged its way back onto the Library’s face as though returning to the default. “I do think he is starting to like me. That will do for now, I think. Question session over, back to your studies.”

            “Uh huh. Um, actually I’m going to go see if Paeden and my dad are still playing catch out front.”

            “Suit yourself!” And with that, the Library went back to reading, and Grant shoved his hands in his pockets as he made for the door outside. He wasn’t sure if he was fully satisfied, but he was pretty sure that response meant that his dad would forgive him after what he was going to do. Even if he didn’t, Grant was still going to go through with it, because he knew that staying in a magic realm as a monster’s slave wasn’t a good end by any standards. But Grant still didn’t want his dad to hate him. God, he knew he had to be resolute in this, but he really, really hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake.

*

            The Library didn’t actually take that long to ask Darryl. As it turned out, the Library missed wandering around more than he thought, and having an excellent excuse to make a quick trip to take his pet’s mind off of his rescue mission and stretch his legs was enough to get him excited for the possibility.

            He waited for Darryl to come in from the courtyard, hot and sweaty from running around with the children and looking to be in high spirits. Dinner was still a couple of hours away, so this seemed like the perfect time to lead him away for some private time. Darryl told the boys he needed to take a break, not being as young as he used to be or something like that, and headed off to his bedroom to lie down. Perfect.

            The Library slunk out of his chair (where he had decidedly not been acknowledged by any of the humans passing through the room, but he didn’t mind that too much in light of his own buzzing thoughts and excitement), and slipped after Darryl through the halls. He managed to be quiet enough that Darryl didn’t notice him until he turned to close the door and saw his master looking directly at him.

            “Boo!” The Library said happily, not waiting for Darryl to finish sputtering before he pulled the man in, kissing him firmly on the mouth and shutting the door behind him with his foot. He chuckled as Darryl squirmed and turned his face away, contenting himself to nibble at the man’s ear and gently nudge him into walking backwards while he caught his breath.

            “Jesus! You scared me, why the hell are you sneaking around like that?” Darryl grunted as the backs of his knees hit his bed. The Library may play his mind games with his pet’s clever son, but he had come to learn it was better to be very clear with Darryl. He tended to get a lot more success when Darryl knew exactly what he wanted from him.

            “I wanted to surprise you, obviously. I thought you liked surprises? How about you lie down and I’ll make it up to you.”

            Darryl huffed out a breathy laugh and sank down on the bed, letting the Library push him gently onto his back with his feet still dangling off the side, a half inch from the floor. “I’m kind of tired, I was actually hoping to take a nap this time. Didn’t you get enough this morning?”

            The Library hummed, nuzzling his long nose along the side of his pet’s coarse beard and pressing his lips against the man’s neck for a moment. “As if I could ever have enough of my delicious Darryl.” He began to massage at his pet’s sides and scalp, and made a pleased sound when his pet easily relaxed under his touch. “You’ve been so much calmer since your son arrived. You know, he had a rather interesting proposition for me this afternoon.”

            Abruptly Darryl’s whole body stiffened, and the Library clicked his tongue in disappointment, redoubling his efforts on the massage as Darryl spoke. “You were talking to Grant?”

            “Well, Grant spoke to me and I answered. Should I not have? He is in my house reading my books after all.”

            “No, that’s… fine. What were you talking about?”

            “Oh, he simply had some questions about something he was reading. But the conversation led me to something else. While having you here in this castle with me has been lovely in its own way, I have been feeling the old wanderlust returning. As much as I treasure my books and having a safe place to keep them where they won’t be at risk for being fully absorbed by my body is nice, it feels very wrong to keep my treasure trove of knowledge away from the world. Also, I do have some late fees to collect, though I may be more lenient this time because I interrupted my usual circuit and dropped off the face of the realm for a month. Maybe I’ll just take a few fingers.”

            Darryl’s brow furrowed. “Uh, are you saying you’re leaving?” He paled slightly. “Uh, the garden isn’t actually growing much yet, and most of the food we’ve got isn’t going to last more than a week or two, so-“

            Ah, that was a good sign. His pet should show concern over being left alone. If he was dismissive or eager, that would be cause for suspicion. “Hush, no need to worry about that. Even if I planned to leave you alone, I would ensure you would be provided for. But I was thinking this would be a good chance to get you some exercise! It won’t be a long trip, just to Rocqueporte and back. I can peddle some books, do some collections in town, you can bring Paeden home like you wanted! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

            Darryl stared at the Library as though he had grown an extra head. “You… want me to come? And Paeden? What about Grant?”

            “Yes, Grant too. A whole family outing! Doesn’t that sound nice?” The Library lowered a couple of limbs to nudge Darryl’s thighs apart so he could nestle his hips into the heat between them. His pet groaned, hips thrusting up automatically. Well, after nearly a week of the kind of sex they’d been having it was a natural response.

            “Y-yeah, I guess? Um, you realise that means you aren’t going to be able to eat me for the whole time we’re gone, right?”

            “Huh?” The Library’s light grinding stopped. “What do you mean?”

            “Uh, cause the kids will be there? I assumed you were hiding it from them.”

            The Library blinked slowly. He hadn’t thought about that. The truth was that he had been hiding that tidbit away, especially from Grant. As much as the child’s bloodlust was evident, he still held out some hope that the boy could be swayed into accepting his father’s situation, at least to the point where he would give up trying to change it. If Grant found out about his father’s mouth-watering flavour and the Library’s inability to stop indulging in it for more than a few days, even then it was occasionally a struggle, the boy would only be alienated further.

            Of course, he couldn’t let Darryl know that he didn’t want Grant to know, because that would mean giving Darryl a card to use against him. Not the worst card by any means, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to give Darryl anything he couldn’t easily take back as it suited him. “Oh? What gave you that impression? I don’t care if the children learn how delightful you taste, I simply assumed that you wouldn’t want them to know.”

            “I don’t!” Darryl shook his head. “Grant’s already freaked out enough about us… well, like this.” He gestured widely between himself and the Library. “If he knew about that, it’d just make things worse.”

            “Hm, I suppose you’re right. Oh, I could harvest extra from you tonight and tomorrow, and stow some away as rations? That should do fine until I start tearing into my wayward book lovers in Rocqueporte anyway. I may be lenient with those who are merely late returning them this time, because that’s kind of on me, but someone’s bound to have damaged at least one by now. I’m assuming there’s going to be at least a little devouring to do.”

            Darryl made a face. “Uh, yeah I guess that works. Um, you know, we probably won’t be able to do much else in front of the kids either.” He raised an eyebrow, and the Library grinned, wasting no time in pulling up Darryl’s shirt and darting out a sneaky tongue to scrape along his nipple. Darryl gasped and swatted the tongue away. “Hey! Stop that!”

            “Just a little taste, I promise!” The Library soothed over the nipple with his fingers, and Darryl’s face flushed at the slow circles he was making. “And to that I say, we’d better get in as much as possible while we can, then!”

            He descended on Darryl’s neck and sucked against it, hard, a rush of elation coursing through him at his pet’s desperate keen that he immediately tried to lower into something deeper and ‘more manly’. How utterly adorable. He could survive without his pet’s fresh meat for a few days, but now that he’d been with Darryl like this, with him so willing, so pliant, holding him around the waist with those warm, thick, hairy arms as though afraid the Library would leave in the middle of their throws of passion…

            Yes, resisting that was going to take a lot more willpower. But the Library was ancient, and powerful, and absolutely could control his more violent urges when the need arose. Surely these new, more lust-driven feelings could be brought to heel just as easily with a little discipline.

            The Library moaned loudly against Darryl’s ear as the barbarian decided to take some control of the situation and slid a bold hand inside his trousers to grab his tentacle like a vice and started to rub it between his fingers. Yep. Definitely could resist this. Totally. No problem at all. Oh god, wait, that was too fast, he should tell him to stop, he should-

            “AH!” Darryl thumped the Library’s shoulder with his free hand. “Hey, let go! I didn’t even touch the end this time! They won’t let me hand go! I think- are they sucking it in? Stop it!”

            “Right, y-yes, of course, just a se-cond, th-ere…” The Library’s voice came out unevenly as he had to shove two hands down his own pants to pull Darryl’s hand out of the tangle of green tendrils that had ensnared it. As he did so, he had the thought that maybe, possibly, that may be a problem after all.

*

            Two days later, the small group of four stood outside the castle drawbridge while the Library commanded it to close behind them and not open until he returned. He had tucked all his books and a couple of gems inside his gullet just in case, alongside a satchel full of Darryl-meat which was perhaps counter intuitive since he was supposed to be waiting until later to eat it, but he figured it would be easier to discreetly pick bits out to bring them to his mouth to gnaw on if he got peckish, than if it was stored in the bag he had purchased for Darryl to sling on his back, which held the rest of the food they were bringing for him and the children.

            Darryl stood looking out onto the forest path with round eyes, as though still uncertain if this was really happening. He had been kept safely inside walls so long, and had to beg to be allowed out to save his own son, the idea the Library had actually suggested he go on an outing was strange to him. Paeden grabbed Darryl’s hand and tugged on him to go forward, eager as always to be on the move.

            “Come on, we’re burning daylight over here! Gotta go see my bullywog dad so he doesn’t think I’m dead or nothing!” Paeden pulled harder, scraping up a cloud of dust at his feet as he ran in place.

            “Alright we’re going!” Darryl snorted, his round-eyed discomfort breaking as he followed the boy down the path. The Library made to follow, though he noticed Grant looking back at the castle and biting his lip. He still hadn’t moved when Darryl and Paeden had made it to the bend in the path, and the Library reached out a long limb to tap Grant on the shoulder.

            “Fuck! What?!” Grant asked, whirling around on the spot and suddenly noticing how far ahead his dad had gotten.

            “Don’t want to get left behind!” The Library grinned. “Terrible things can happen to a human alone in the woods.” The boy’s eyes narrowed, and he muttered something the Library didn’t catch. “What was that?”

            “I said we should catch up.” Grant said, louder, and then broke into a jog toward his father’s back. The Library made to follow again, but as he did so he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that Grant was absolutely up to something. He doubted the boy could do anything too damaging but… well. As much as he didn’t want to hurt the child for Darryl’s sake, the monster knew full well if he had to save one over the other, Darryl would win every time.

Chapter 19: Intuition

Summary:

The field trip makes its way to Rocqueporte, the Library is merciful, then less merciful, and Grant launches his escape plan. Darryl's just along for the ride.

Notes:

I'm back, here's another chapter. This one has just a bit of vore, no sex... what am I even doing with my life? Such bullshit. I'm going to have to make up for this later. For now, this will just keep bustling the plot along. As I said before, the current chapter count will be going up before the end. Right now I'm thinking 29 or 30 chapters total but could be more idk. We will see.

Also you may have noticed I've slowed down on my upload schedule for this fic. I want to assure everyone it is not from a lack of interest. I'm actually working on an original novel right now as well and I'm alternating a chapter of this with a chapter of that in my writing schedule. While I can hammer out a fic chapter in a couple days, it takes like 5 days minimum to do a novel chapter cause, well, frankly I'm putting more effort into that. This is just my 'for fun garbage writing break time' so.... yeah that's why the chapters are getting bigger gaps between uploads. But I'm still here, still working on it, never fear. I love my ugly vore baby.

19 Intuition

            The journey to Rocqueporte wasn’t exactly long, but having to stop for the bodily needs of three humans did tack on a lot more time than the Library was expecting. Firstly, it seemed like Grant and Darryl had to urinate every hour or so, which was gross and frustrating, though Grant got snippy and insisted it made sense given how much water they were drinking. Darryl had complained when the Library had then said they should drink less water if that was the problem. Apparently humans required a lot of water when walking for several hours in a row.

            Then there was the snacking. The Library had planned to stop for the three meals a day that Darryl was used to, but it seemed that all three humans were prone to snacking on any berries or fruits they happened across. Grant had apparently held onto a book on foraging that he frequently referred to before such snacking, which was at least more responsible than blinding shoving things in their mouths, but the frequency was still irritating. The Library could appreciate the joys of a snack now and then, but apparently exercise to this caliber worked up an appetite in the boys, so they would constantly be distracted by every fruit tree they passed. At first the Library though it was funny to watch Darryl strain himself holding up Paeden or Grant to reach the fruit, but after the fifth or sixth time, the Library gave in and straightened up to get the fruit for them instead. At least that shaved some time off the stop, since the challenge of getting the fruit down only seemed to spur them on more and they might be at it for several minutes if the Library didn’t intervene.

            The Library had also expected to have to stop at night to sleep. He had hoped that the children would exhaust themselves early and allow him some time alone with Darryl to relieve his pent up, ah, feelings he had gleaned over a day of watching him lift children on his shoulders, chop up food for them, and making objectively silly jokes for them to laugh at. (Paeden proved a much more willing audience for those than the sullen Grant.)

Unfortunately, Darryl seemed to be the most tired of all of them, and passed out cold the second he got too horizontal every night. Luckily the boys didn’t seem keen to pay the Library extra attention just because their usual distractor was unconscious. Unluckily, they also made sure to stay as annoyingly close to Darryl as possible, so the Library couldn’t even get close enough to do some sly petting or licking on the side. Not unless he wanted to be very direct about shooing the boys away, and somehow he knew that wasn’t going to win any favor from either them or Darryl.

            Usually Paeden would be the second one asleep, and Grant would strain his eyes reading by the fire before the embers burnt too low to see by. Then, the Library could feel the child’s eyes tracing his silhouette in the dark long after he should have drifted off with the others. He didn’t call him out on it, but it was very clear that Grant still didn’t trust him in any respect. That, too, was frustrating.

            But while he had expected to stop at night for sleep, the Library failed to anticipate the ten to thirty minute breaks that cropped up every couple of hours or so. Paeden would loudly proclaim that his feet hurt, or Grant would snap something about how prolonged walking without breaks can lead to lifelong back problems, or Darryl would just announce it was time to ‘take five’ (it was never ‘five’). Then the humans would troop off to a little clearing near the path and have a sit, leaving the Library to dither idly until he felt too awkward and pulled out a book to skim while constantly looking over his shoulder for an ambush.

            It wasn’t that the Library was in a rush, exactly. He normally preferred to be punctual, but at this point he was so late in his circuit that it really didn’t matter when they arrived. He also usually didn’t feel much concern over the potential of being attacked during his travels, because he knew he was very, very hard to kill.

            However, if he had learned anything from the astoundingly frequent stops they were making on this outing, it was that humans were more fragile than he had thought. Which was really saying something, because he had firsthand experience on how easily their flesh was cleaved from bone. Still, the Library felt as though he had to be constantly on alert with how easily a single well-placed arrow or poisonous creature could appear and take out the humans before the Library could stop it, and frankly this was starting to wear on him.

            As they began to crest the last hill before they would overlook Rocqueporte, the Library found himself looking over his shoulder at Darryl, who was breathing hard and half-carrying Paeden up the hill, Grant close behind. They had skipped the last couple ‘breaks’ when the Library had told them that if they did they would reach the town by early afternoon.

After only five hours of walking nonstop and Darryl was only just managing to keep up. And Darryl wasn’t even a weak human, as humans went! He’d felt him come close to throwing the Library off of him once or twice, and his stamina was, well… good. Excellent, really. But, even so, humans really were among the weakest species it seemed. It was astounding that Darryl wouldn’t acknowledge that he was much better off having the Library around to help care for him. It must be stubbornness, though that really only added to his charm in the end, didn’t it?

            “What?” Darryl grunted, his eyes flickering toward the Library’s.

            “What?” The Library repeated.

            “Y-you’re obviously staring at me. What is it?” Darryl wheezed out. The Library stopped at the top of the hill.

            “Break? Finally? Great.” Paeden fell face down on the grass and a soft snore followed.

            “Oooh, I was only admiring how cute you look when you’re trying so hard.” Darryl’s sunburnt cheeks somehow blazed redder and Grant made a gagging noise, but neither seemed able to make a coherent response. The Library considered that a win in his book, and spread his limbs out in front of him rather than drill the point in harder. “We’re here!”

            “We are?” Grant seemed to gather some kind of second wind and actually ran past his dad and the Library to look over the top of the hill. Sure enough, the town of Rocqueporte stretched out below them. The town had been doing much better since the vampires had been cleared out. The tower still dominated the skyline, but that skyline was considerably less foggy and smeared with eternal darkness, so it made for a much more pleasant view. The Library’s gaze drifted over the small wooden houses on the edge of town leading up into paved streets and neat rows of shops and homes all squished together into the marvelous fire hazard that most organically grown towns seemed prone toward.

            “Ready to head into town, Darryl? You’ll probably have to carry that,” the Library said, gesturing toward Paeden who was still face down and snoring.

            Darryl grimaced and sank first to a squat beside Paeden, and then simply let himself fall on his butt and patted the boy on the head. “Yeah, uh, maybe in a minute. Steep hill, you know, uh… yeah.” Grant made a noise tinged with annoyance, and Darryl snorted. “You sound just like your mom when you do that.”

            Grant looked stricken. “Oh my god.”

            “Now you sound like Darryl!” The Library clapped a pair of hands in delight. “Do me next!”

            “I’m the Library and I’m a kidnapping asshole.”

            “Nice try, but that doesn’t sound like me at all!” The Library grinned wide enough to show off the full size of his fangs. Sadly, Grant didn’t seem intimidated at all, merely rolling his eyes and bending to sit next to his dad. Really, Grant was being completely unreasonable about this whole thing. The Library had given him absolutely no reason to fear him or dislike him as far as he could tell. He had even been helpful, helping him find books and giving him free access to his well of knowledge! Being nice to children was so overrated. He should try threatening him more, he seemed at least a little concerned when he threatened his life that one time.

            “Yeah, Grant. The Library sounds more like, uh,” Darryl cleared his throat and spoke in a higher, more lilting voice than the Library had ever heard from him. “Ah yes, books books books. Can’t go wrong with a good book. Did Darryl say he likes cupcakes? Let’s give him a book on cupcakes because that’s obviously the same thing, right?”

            The Library frowned and folded a couple sets of limbs, feeling a touch indignant. “I don’t sound like that, either!”

            Grant burst into rather nasty laughter, though more likely from the Library’s response than Darryl’s poor imitation. He was clearly trying to dig further under the Library’s skin, and the worst part was that it was working. “Yeah, you totally do! Wait, I can do it better.” He cleared his throat much like Darryl had and did his own take on the Library’s lilting voice, though his attempt seemed to attach some kind of bizarre posh accent to it. “I’m the Library and I’m an asshole.”

            Now Darryl burst into laughter, though his was notably more genuine and hysterical. Even so, it was also probably more in response to the Library’s face, which he knew must be the picture of embarrassed disgust. “Oh now come on, that’s not even clever! You’re both being- now stop that!” Darryl was laughing harder, clearly losing himself to hysteria. Grant was laughing louder too, though the glint in his hardened eyes told the Library his mirth was exaggerated on purpose to hurt more. The Library rolled his eyes at the childish display. “Fine, if you’re going to be like that I’m going to just-“ He closed his eyes and grunted, his back splitting apart and his tower of books began bleeding out of his inner stomach walls and through his bubbling skin. The pile grew steadily out from his back like an enormous hump, slick mucus dripping from the tomes and spilling on the ground.

            It seemed the display was enough to make both Wilsons snap their mouths shut.

            “Gross,” Grant said after a moment of the Library adjusting the weight to lie evenly against his shoulders as he hunched over to accommodate his load.

            Darryl was squinting at the Library unusually hard. “Something on your mind, pet?”

            “So you don’t have to take things in and out of your mouth like that? You can just make them come out of your skin?”

            The Library blinked. “Would you prefer passing through a wall of blood, bone and viscera on your way to and from tummy time?”

            Grant frowned. “What’s tummy time?”

            Darryl’s eyes darted to Grant and then to the Library like a caged animal and then patted Grant’s head awkwardly. “Nothing! And uh, no I guess what you usually do is, um, fine.”

            “Thought so, hot stuff. Well, are you rested up? Only because we’re almost there and everything. I figure we can swing by the bullywug first to drop off Paeden and then I’ll set up shop in, oh, that clearing over there nearish the tower.” The Library grinned as he pointed to the area he had picked out. “I’ll have to spread the word I’m in town too, of course.”

            Darryl nodded, gently shaking Paeden’s shoulder until the boy finally lifted his head. His cheek was grass stained and drool was running down his chin as he smacked his lips. “Noooo daddy five more minutes…”

            “Hey buddy, I know you’re tired, but look! You’re almost home. You could say that it’s all downhill from here!” Darryl pointed down the hill, and both Paeden and Grant groaned loudly, as though taking a D4 of psychic damage. But Paeden still nodded sleepily after, and staggered up to his feet with Darryl holding onto his arm.

            It took a moment more of standing in silence before the Library realised that Darryl was waiting for him to lead the way. As he started walking and the man easily fell into step behind him, the Library couldn’t stop the happy thrumming in his chest. Now this moment, heading into a town full of readers, his beloved books piled on his back and his beloved pet trotting loyally at his heels, was surely the height of pleasure.

*

            Walter the Immoral wasn’t home. Grant couldn’t say this surprised him, the way his luck was going.

            “Huh, that sort of puts a damper on returning the boy,” the Library said, pursing his lips as Paeden started throwing himself bodily at the locked door over and over.

            “It’s fine! Guys, this is cool, I can probably, uuuh, I can probably get up on the roof and get down the chimney, and then we’ll be in!” Paeden announced, and started running straight for the wall. He made it about four feet up when Darryl grabbed him by the waist and yanked him back down.

            “Woah there! Uh, this is fine, I’m sure he’s just out somewhere? We’ll come back later tonight and check in before we send any kids to potentially get stuck in a chimney, okay?”

            “Aw, don’t bench me, coach!” Paeden whined as he was set firmly on the ground. Grant shook his head and put a steady hand on Paeden’s shoulder.

            “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. Actually…” Grant glanced up at the Library whose eyes hadn’t left him since he opened his mouth. It was creepy how much he paid attention to Grant, like he knew exactly what he was planning. If nothing else, he definitely knew Grant was planning something. Fine, he’d rub that in his face. He cocked an eyebrow at the Library and then turned a calculated smile on Paeden. “Actually, I think this is good. We might still need you for something, so it’s better if you stuck around a while longer, you know? If you just went home now you’d miss out on, uh, whatever else we’re going to be doing today.” Alright, so he finished that sentence kind of lamely, but he thought the point got across. The Library narrowed his eyes anyway, even as his ever-present smile widened.

            “Oh yes, the more the merrier! Come along then, Darryl! I have some books to lend and fingers- ahem, I mean fees to collect!” The Library then reached out and grabbed Darryl’s hand like it was a normal thing to do, and started dragging him off in the direction of the looming tower on the far edge of town. Grant felt some level of satisfaction to see his dad at least try to shake out of the Library’s grip, but he still gave up far faster than he should have as far as his son was concerned.

            Whatever. That was fine. It might even be good. The more the Library focused on Darryl for now, the more that Grant could get done out of sight.

            “Uh, you guys go on ahead! Paeden, you can show me around the town. Maybe we can find your dad before he gets home, right?” Grant poked Paeden in the side a bit too hard, and the boy yelped. “Oh, sorry.”

            “Nope, I’m cool, you just hit one of the ol’ tickle spots, no big deal,” Paeden said cheerfully as he rubbed his ribcage and hobbled a couple of steps away.

            Darryl frowned back at Grant, but the Library didn’t stop walking so he had to answer fast. “Uh, yeah, sure? Just be careful, you know where we’ll be, and if it starts getting dark you come back and wait for us by Walter’s house, okay?” The Library tugged him down a diagonal street and out of sight before Grant could even do more than flash a thumbs up.

            “Okay,” Grant took a deep breath and looked around the street. There were a few villagers out and about cleaning their porches and walking with each other. A few had pointed to the Library as he had gone by, and now that he was gone Grant spotted more than a couple creatures of varying races literally running up the street with books held tightly under their arms and heading in the direction he had left in. They all looked pretty scared, too, which was kind of worrying for what Grant had planned but he couldn’t back out now. He’d made it this far, he was going to win this and save his dad. He just needed to think about what he was doing. What he had at his disposal. Where he was.

            He was in Rocqueporte, which was great, because if any town would likely have people selling the ingredients for a strong warding spell it was a place recently ransacked by a vampire lord. The street he was on was mostly residential aside from the blacksmith and the inn just down the street, so he had to get somewhere with shops.

            He had magic. The spells he had learned from the books the Library had let him borrow. He had Paeden, who had knives, and knew the layout of the town, so maybe he could show him where he needed to go to get the ingredients. He was going to have to steal them, but he’d been practicing some decent illusory spells to cloak himself. The best he found was one that layered a doppelganger on top of himself so he could hide certain actions. It wasn’t a particularly powerful spell. He couldn’t move too far out of the doppelganger cloak or it would be noticeable, so he couldn’t do a ton with it, but he should at least be able to make it look like his hand was at his side when it was actually bunched under his jacket ready to poke under the hem and snatch something from a merchant stall.

            Grant glanced toward the tower again. He was pretty sure he could get everything he needed to block the Library’s tracking magic in town, but maybe it could be worth breaking into the tower to see if there was something useful there, too. It might already be looted, but if they had the extra time…

            “Come on Paeden, I’ve got a plan to save my dad and everyone else from Ravenloft, and you’re going to help.” Grant nodded up toward the tower. There was no response. Grant looked around. “Uh, Paeden?”

            It took a moment, but he finally noticed Paeden was running along the top of Walter’s blacksmith shop, heading straight for the chimney.

            “PAEDEN, NO!”

*

            Darryl sat in the grass with a small sack of fried dough the Library had bought for him to snack on, muttering something about how he needed to replenish his ‘meager human strength’. Then the asshole had told him to behave and wandered off a short distance to set his books on the ground and await his patrons. They didn’t take long to arrive, and there were far more of them than Darryl had expected.

Waiting around while the Library peddled his books was simultaneously boring and horrifying. It was boring watching people browse the pile of books and make requests, especially when the Library gave the same ‘bring it back it two weeks or your flesh is mine’ speech at the end of each interaction.

            It was horrifying because for every borrowing venture, there also seemed to be some poor sap holding a book or three in their arms hoping to return them without suffering what must have seemed like inevitable wrath. Some of them frantically shoved their books into the Library’s hands and immediately dropped to their knees grovelling apologies. These the monster had laughed at, ruffled their hair, and told them they could go free if they promised to spread the word that he was in town to collect his books and he was so sorry he had made them wait. They presumably ran off to do just that. Those ones weren’t so bad, aside from the sharp reminder of just how openly dangerous these people found the Library.

            Some only came within a few feet of the Library and chucked their books at him. The Library always managed to catch the books, either with his limbs or his open mouth, but these souls the Library pursued. His body lengthened and galloped in a manner unlike any earthly human or animal, and it suddenly became clear that he had chosen a field not for his own visibility but rather to prevent those returning his books from being able to hide from him. Each time the Library caught his prey he pressed them to the ground and whispered horrors into their ears until they were screaming.

            However, he still didn’t hurt these people. He let them stand, gave them the same instructions as the grovelers, and sent them on their way.

            Darryl watched this for about half an hour before he said something. He had almost gotten up to interfere when the Library chased down the first poor sap who tried to run. But since he didn’t actually end up eviscerating the guy, Darryl just kind of kept awkwardly watching until his doughnuts were finished and the powdered sugar was wiped off on his pants.

            “Um, Library?” Darryl asked, approaching the monster as he waved goodbye to a young lady who was openly weeping after returning a book and was now leaving with three more. “You keep saying there has to be punishments for not returning books, but uh, it doesn’t look like you’re actually punishing these people? At all?”

            The Library steepled his fingers and hummed before answering. “Well, I am scaring them. That’s sort of a punishment. Besides, I already said I’m giving a free pass to anyone in Rocqueporte who returns their books today. And I’m even making it easier for people to know I’m in town by ensuring everyone who comes here spreads the word! I’m not unmerciful, Darryl.”

            Darryl huffed, folding his arms. “You seemed pretty unmerciful when you attacked us and then kidnapped and tortured me when our books weren’t even due yet.”

            The Library shrugged. “Eh, time is relative, due dates are flexible, and extensions exist. Maybe if you hadn’t come clean and admitted to having burnt my beloved books to a crisp I could have been persuaded to agree that they hadn’t come due yet and I should have waited to find out if you could actually produce them when required. But as it was, while lateness may be granted clemency, destroying a book?” The Library chuckled, a dark and dangerous sound that was accompanied by fingers trailing up Darryl’s side and digging briefly into his love handle hard enough to make him gasp. “Now that, I am absolutely bound into punishing. Usually via death and book binding! With one delightful little exception.” The Library draped a loose limb over Darryl’s shoulder and twisted a finger into his hair.

            Darryl squirmed out of the Library’s hold, relieved that was allowed, and his eyes darted quickly around the field. No one was approaching at the moment, but he tried to keep his voice down just in case. “Isn’t that kind of weird, though? Like, I thought even if you destroyed a book you have to kill yourself, right? So how did you work around that so you didn’t have to kill me or the other dads?”

            The Library looked pensive for a moment, then sent Darryl an unexpected glare. “Oh, I see. Grant has already gotten you in on his little scheme, hmm?”

            Darryl blinked. “Grant has a scheme?”

            Apparently he looked suitably clueless, because the Library’s glare quickly dropped and he waved Darryl off instead. "Oh, never mind. I suppose there’s no harm telling you. I sort of used some paradoxical loopholes, which is what usually happens in my basic prerogative of doing whatever I want. I had long ago made it a possibility for one person to take on the punishment of another, mainly allowed for very young children who borrowed books that their parents neglected to ensure they returned, but occasionally made use of by others. Less common but still acceptable, I have been known to allow one person to take the punishment of multiple others, provided they would provide enough skin and flesh to make up the number of books I could produce from the total number I would get from those they are, ah, ‘filling in’ for.”

            Darryl made a face, but nodded along. “Okay, but I definitely don’t have enough flesh to make up for all the other dads, though.”

            “Yes, that’s true. But, you also borrowed the books as a group. I was able to, ah, tweak things a little due to that circumstance. Then I added in the concept that I would be regenerating your flesh as I ate it, so technically I would be getting more than bargained for in terms of book binding. Long story short, as long as I can convince myself it fits in with the rules, I can do it. And I’m very good at convincing myself of things.”

            “But you don’t make my flesh into books, though!” Darryl cut in, “You just eat it, so how do you justify that?”

            The Library blinked slowly at Darryl. Then he carefully walked over to his book pile and began to climb it like a spider and started to dig through it. Darryl did not like where this was going.

            “I don’t like where this is going,” Darryl said, frowning as the Library pulled a tome with a warm, brown colour from the depths of the pile.

            “This is one of yours! See, it’s even your favourite colour!” The Library skipped down the pile and pressed the book into Darryl’s hands. He read the title: Rules for Sports In Another World, Binding Provided by Darryl Wilson.

            “You made this out of my skin?” Darryl poked the cover. It felt leathery. He didn’t like it. He opened it up and read some of the introduction, and his opinion abruptly changed.

His eyes widened, he could almost hear his own inner voice touting about the passion and team spirit of soccer and football. A quick skim of the pages showed that those two sports took up the first two sections of the book, followed by a chapter at the end that squished together everything Darryl knew about a few other sports like basketball, hockey, and… laser tag? “Laser tag isn’t a sport.”

            “It’s not?” The Library squinted over Darryl’s shoulder. “Well you must consider it one at some level or it wouldn’t be in your sports book, would it?”

            “I guess not?” Darryl said distantly, thumbing frantically through the pages. It was really unsettling to read, if he was being honest, but also kind of fascinating. Darryl wasn’t much of a reader and he most certainly wasn’t a writer. And yet, if he had ever written a book, it definitely would’ve read just like this. Every word was in his vocabulary. Every play, explanation, and tangent was something Darryl was familiar with, and told in a way that made perfect sense to him. If he had ever written a book solely for himself to enjoy, this would’ve been it.

            “Do you like it?” The Library asked as though the answer was a foregone conclusion.

            “I… I don’t think I’ve ever liked a book more than this one. Ever. Which is weird because I know I wouldn’t learn anything new if I read it all the way through but I just… I just like it? A lot? Is that normal?”

            “You know I’m not actually sure? I don’t think I’ve ever had the opportunity to show anyone a book I bound from their own flesh before. I haven’t gotten around to reading it myself just yet so I couldn’t tell you if it’s objectively good. I’ve been hoping to actually get you to talk more about yourself before I go snooping through the encyclopedia of Darryl, but it’s good have these around for when you inevitably fall to the tragic disease of having a mortal lifespan.” The Library looked like he was going to say more, but then fell silent. He stared at Darryl with a gradually growing frown. “Oh. I don’t think I like that.”

            “Like what?” Darryl asked, though his eyes were still on the pages of his book. He had stopped paying attention as soon as the Library had stopped talking. He was pretty sure he was going to read this book straight through. He might even do it in one sitting. He couldn’t remember ever doing that before, but he was going to do it with this.

            “Nothing, nothing, I’m sure I can take care of it.” The Library nudged Darryl back in the direction of where he had been sitting earlier. “You can read just as easily over there, I still have many more books to collect before sunset. And after sunset, I can pay a special visit to all the silly little creatures who thought it wise to make me wait!”

            “You are so creepy,” Darryl shook his head as he took a couple steps back to his spot before pausing. “Don’t forget we have to meet up with Grant and Paeden first, though.”

            “Yes, yes, I wouldn’t forget that,” the Library twisted a grin back onto his face. “Though, do me a favour and try not to listen to any hair brained ideas your son might throw your way while we’re here.”

            That got Darryl’s attention. “Okay, seriously, what are you talking about? Grant isn’t going to try anything, I told him what the deal was. If anything, he’s just putting a plan together that you can approve so we can get the rescue mission over with.”

            “Oh I’m sure he’s putting a plan together, but I seriously doubt he’s including my parameters in it. You might not have noticed, but he doesn’t exactly like me.”

            Darryl couldn’t hold back a laugh. That was an understatement. “Yeah, he hates your guts. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him hate anyone that much before, actually.”

            The Library quirked an eyebrow. “So why should I not anticipate his violent yet inevitable betrayal?”

            “Okay, fair enough. If he tries to get me in on whatever he’s planning to do I’ll probably stop him. I don’t want him doing anything to put himself in danger again, you know?”

            “You’ll probably stop him?”

            “Hey look, I think there’s another crying guy heading over here.”

            “We’re talking about this later,” the Library groused before plastering on a welcoming expression and opening wide for the book that was subsequently launched at his face.

*

            It had been stupidly easy to get into the tower, so Grant wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t much in there left to find. He became suspicious of that when Paeden was able to show him directly to the back entrance, and the point was driven home when he started dragging Grant around to see all his ‘tags’ (which turned out to be Paeden’s name carved into every piece of wood in the vicinity, he really liked his knives).

            The only thing that Grant was able to find that might come in handy later was a particularly old book that was under the bed in what looked to have been the vampire lord’s bedroom. It was about necromancy, and although Grant hadn’t bothered with that much yet since Terry Junior had already seemed to have that area pretty covered, he figured it couldn’t hurt to tuck the tome away in his bag with the ingredients for his warding spell.

            By the time they had made it out to the balcony at the top, the sun was getting close to the horizon, and a squint at the ground showed the Library was heading back to his book pile. His dad wasn’t far away, and actually seemed to be reading something, so Grant knew that he must really be bored out of his mind.

            “So uh, we didn’t find my dad anywhere,” Paeden said as he kicked a rock with his shoe. “I hope he’s not out looking for me somewhere. I don’t really want to have to stay here by myself waiting for him to come back.”

            “You don’t have to stay here, you can come with me and my dad when we leave tonight.”

            “Yeah, uh, I’m not super excited about making the Library angry. Not that I couldn’t take him on! But uh, your dad seems pretty happy with- oh, shit, didn’t that hurt?”

            Grant, who had punched the edge of the stone wall, was already healing his bruised knuckles. “I’m fine. No, my dad isn’t happy. He’s just kinda brainwashed or something. I can get through to him as long as the Library leaves him with us tonight, which he will, because he’s going to go murder some people for their missing library books and we’re both going to act super tired so he won’t think we’re going to run away tonight.”

            “It’s kind of a shaky plan is all I’m saying. Kinda assumes a lot of things. Maybe we can go back to my plan of sucker punching him when he’s distracted.”

            Grant rolled his eyes. “We can’t fight the Library, he’s too high level. It’s fine. Just trust me on this. I’m good at strategy.”

            “If you say so, man.” Paeden glanced over the side of the tower at the Library far below. “Do you think if we spat off the roof we could make them think it’s raining?”

            Grant glanced off the side of the balcony. A cold smile settled on his lips. “Only one way to find out.”

*

            Darryl wasn’t really surprised when the Library announced that, in light of the fact that Walter the Immoral was still absent and one of his neighbours said something about him not having been in town for weeks, he had booked them two rooms at the inn. He also expected that the Library was expecting Darryl to put out for him later once the boys were in bed, and that the Library was going to head off into the night at some point to perform his ‘collections’ as he had threatened to do earlier.

            He was kind of surprised that the Library was taking off so soon after eating, though.

            “You’re going now?” Darryl mumbled as he rubbed some feeling back into his arm where the Library had just finished healing the chunk of flesh he took from it. The blow job had been nice, as usual, but the numbing seemed kind of rushed and left Darryl still a little woozy once the Library had lifted it. The man grimaced as the monster popped his palm-sized chunk of flesh into his mouth raw. “You didn’t even let me make it a sandwich or something.”

            The Library swallowed hard and leaned over the bed to press a kiss to Darryl’s cheek. “Sorry to eat and run, babe. Lots to do tonight, especially if it starts raining again.”

            “I told you, there’s no clouds, it’s not going to rain.”

            “I felt a drop! I swear I did!”

            “Right, fine, whatever,” Darryl rolled his eyes. He wasn’t having that argument twice. “You’re uh, you’re really going to leave me here alone with the kids?”

            “Oh, I’ll be checking in of course.” The Library meaningfully tapped on Darryl’s left wrist. “But it’s been a long day, so I assume you’ll all be asleep by the time I come back. We’ll cuddle when I come home though, promise!”

            Then the Library, clearly deciding that he hadn’t been acting weird enough lately, did not head for the door and instead unlatched the window and crawled out of it like the enormously creepy insect-monster he was, shutting it carefully behind him.

            “That creepy fucker,” Darryl muttered, turning over on the straw bed and burying his face in the warm pillow as exhaustion crept up to claim him. He was just about on the edge of sleep when the room door slammed open and a bright light shone in his face.

            “Wha-?” Darryl only just managed to flip onto his back when a cloud of reddish powder was blown into his eyes. A bucket of something cold and slimy was dumped over his torso next, and while he was flailing around and trying to get his bearings, the covers were yanked off his feet and more slime was slathered over his feet. “Get off me! What the fuck?! Help! Librar-mmph!” Darryl blinked when unexpectedly small hands slapped over his mouth.

            “Darryl, you need to chill. Just let Grant finish first, okay?”

            “Mmph?” Darryl looked from Paeden sitting on his chest to Grant who was standing beside his bed, hands and eyes glowing as he chanted and wind whipped up around them, the slime on Darryl’s body beginning to glow as well. He stayed deadly quiet until Grant stopped chanting and the wind and glowing ended, leaving a vast stillness in their stead.

            “Okay, what the hell was that?”

            “Dad,” Grant said in a tone that held more authority than he had ever thought his son capable of. “I just stopped the Library from finding you for exactly forty eight hours. Let’s get the fuck out of here and save the rest of the guys.”

            Darryl looked at the resolution in Grant’s face, the eagerness in Paeden’s, and frowned. “But the Library said-”

            “Do you like being the Library’s fucking boytoy, dad?” Grant asked, his voice stained in a way that made Darryl sit up and take notice. “Cause the way I see it, this might be your ONE chance to get away from him and save everyone and escape back to earth. So you’re either going to come with me now, and deal with this, because the Library’s obviously not helping you-”

            “He said-” Darryl tried to cut in but Grant spoke louder, over him.

            “We’re basically on a pointless, distracting, field trip in fucking Rocqueporte, dad! Sitting around waiting for that monster to finish murdering people, and you think he’s going to help you with anything that doesn’t benefit him?”

            Darryl grimaced. “Well when you put it like that…”

            “Look. Paeden and I are going. I’ve got spells, and spell ingredients, and Paeden’s got knives… I don’t know. It would be better if you were with us, obviously, but we’re going either way. It’s either you come with us and prove to me, and the Library, and I guess even your-fucking-self that you are a FREE and PROUD American citizen,” Grant poked his dad in the chest and Darryl’s eyes widened. “Or you stay here, and wait in bed to get cuddled by,” Grant coughed out a laugh here, “An actual fucking murderer. What are you doing dad? We gotta go. Let’s just go.”

            “Grant.” Darryl pushed Paeden aside so he could sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. He put his hands on his son’s shoulders. “I could sit here and argue about how this is super dangerous and that the whole thing about calling the Library a murderer is kind of uncomfortable for me considering the amount of people I myself have killed in this world. But that speech you gave right now? That’s fucking star player material. That’s the fucking eleventh hour, team rallying spirit that I am so, so proud to see in you after all you’ve been through just,” Darryl’s breath hitched. “Just so much. It’s just like Friday Night Lights.”

            “Don’t cry, dad. Dad. DAD!” Grant groaned loudly as Darryl crushed him into his chest with a big, slimy hug. “Ewww, dad. You can, um, wipe that off, the spell’s done.”

            Darryl still held onto Grant for another good half a minute before Grant managed to convince him that time was off the essence and he started hurrying to put the rest of his clothes on. He wasn’t the kind of guy to let a good inspirational speech go to waste. He just hoped the Library would be as merciful as he was with his repentant book borrowers when he inevitably caught up with them.

Chapter 20: Constitution

Summary:

Grant leads Darryl and Paeden back to Castle Ravenloft and through the barrier, and Darryl worries about the man his son is growing up to be.

Notes:

I finished chapter 4 of my novel, so I rewarded myself by updating my fanfic again. Yaaaaay.

This is entirely a plot driving chapter. The Library's not even in it, wtf. Don't worry, Grant will ensure he's back next time ;)

20 Constitution

            The trip to Ravenloft would prove long and arduous. It lasted two weeks, two weeks spent hiding, and scavenging, and stealing to get the resources they needed to survive. They hadn’t had a lot available to take with them when they left, after all. Two weeks spent dodging any town where they heard whispers about the Library, and two weeks of Grant whispering spells to extend the life of Darryl’s ward that had been rubbed into his skin.

            They had no way of telling for sure if the ward was working entirely, but Darryl hadn’t seen any eyes blinking where they shouldn’t be. His limbs never went numb and stopped moving. He had to assume it was working as expected, or else he was going to go crazy.

            Darryl was proud of Grant. He really was. Not every thirteen year old could craft a potion and spell combination to blot out the powers of an eldritch monster, even on a temporary basis. Certainly not every thirteen year old would be able to memorize enough of a map of a foreign world to lead his dad across said world to rescue his friends. It was enough that Darryl actually trusted that Grant probably had a decent plan to get into Castle Ravenloft when they got there, despite the fact his son hadn’t been especially forthcoming about details regarding said plan thus far.

            But as proud as Darryl was of Grant, he was also getting more and more concerned about him. He knew that Grant was different than he was back in San Dimas. Hell, Darryl was different than he’d been back in San Dimas, and he liked to think he wasn’t as impressionable as a young teenaged boy. Maybe that’s just how it was in the Forgotten Realms. It seemed the kids he encountered in this world experienced far more death and darkness in their young lives than most did in the Californian suburbs, and as a result they were compelled to grow up faster. Perhaps that’s all that had happened to Grant. He had seen murder, been part of it, seen carnage and kidnapping and slavery and… other things Darryl probably should’ve been more diligent about hiding. And so, Grant grew up a little faster than expected. He was more mature now, he wanted more responsibility, to be more involved, and Darryl shouldn’t stand in the way of that.

            That said, it was pretty clear not every change Grant had gone through could be chalked up to ‘maturity’.

Grant didn’t care if he got hurt anymore, in fact, he seemed to be actively seeking pain out. Whether it be by punching a rock or tree in a burst of rage, or throwing himself up against any bandit or minor monster they ran across with a ferocity Darryl had never known his son capable of, Grant would sustain injuries that churned his father’s stomach. He’d seen his son stabbed, punched, and kicked. He’d had bones broken and nose bloodied. It hurt to watch.

Every time Grant was hurt, he would brush off his dad’s concerns and heal his injuries either with spell work or with the collection of health potions he had amassed. The pain didn’t seem to faze him, and Darryl couldn’t convince him that just because he could heal his injuries that didn’t mean they didn’t matter. How was he supposed to convince him of that? Darryl was the one who was always telling Grant that pain was mental after all.

The worst part of that was the fact that Grant had also gotten into the habit of wandering off by himself when they set up camp for the night. Darryl tried to stop him the first couple of days, insisting he needed rest after all the ground they covered in effort to put as much distance between themselves and the Library as possible. (Grant also had them moving in a zigzag across the land instead of the direct route in effort to confuse the Library, since it would be obvious where they were headed). Grant would agree at first, but Darryl would wake later at night and find Grant gone or just coming back from wherever he went, so he gave up on stopping him. If he let Grant go when he said he wanted to, at least he came back before Darryl and Paeden slept. Darryl at least felt better knowing when Grant left so he could know when to worry about him being gone too long.

Sadly, that wasn’t the end of the things Grant did that caused Darryl to worry.

            Perhaps as consequence of seeking out pain, Grant was also becoming more violent. Alarmingly violent. Darryl could remember Grant rescuing worms off the sidewalk after a rainstorm, and now seeing a corpse in the road onto made the kid grunt and turn his eyes away, and the worms after a rain were crushed beneath the boy’s shoes without care or comment.

Darryl absolutely had no idea how to approach him over that. After all, Faerun was a dangerous place, and those monsters and bandits they fought tended to be the instigators. Darryl could watch Grant fight, could tell him to stop when he drew too much blood or when the other side surrendered, but sometimes he had to kill them. Kill or be killed. What was Darryl supposed to do? He tried to dive in with the final blow before his son whenever possible, but Grant’s kill count kept growing none the less. He was becoming, there was no other word for it, fierce. Darryl didn’t want to admit it, but it was scaring him. Grant would never go back to being the person he was, Darryl knew that, and good thing too since if he did Darryl might still have to eat his skin, but sometimes…

            Sometimes he would look at Grant, covered in blood and bruises, eyes on fire as he looked down on a twitching giant spider he had just drove one of Paeden’s knives directly into with no hesitation and Darryl would wonder, who was this kid?

            Grant was easier to deal with when they weren’t in combat. He still felt colder than Darryl remembered him being. He didn’t talk as much, he barely laughed unless Darryl worked very hard to draw one out of him. But he felt more normal, at least. He would occasionally talk about what he had been studying, if asked. He had really learned a lot the last few weeks and it showed. He would seem so mature in moments, and then Darryl would make a stupid pun and he would groan just like a little kid again.

He would also show too much concern over making sure Darryl and Paeden were eating enough, and Darryl would have to insist Grant take an extra portion. Grant was still different in the quieter moments, but it was a more understandable quiet. Something that could be respected. Darryl could mourn the loss of the childish Grant while appreciating the thoughtful, studious, even serious teenager he had become. Not all the changes were bad ones, he could take comfort in that.

            The disregard of pain, the violence, those were still a problem. Darryl needed to deal with those things, he knew he did. But he wasn’t sure what the right words to say were, and a firm hug or pat on the back wasn’t going to do it either. Stern words and scolding only drove Grant further from him.

Darryl was at a loss, and there was no one around to talk to about Grant except Paeden and well, Darryl didn’t think Paeden would give the best advice on this one. Especially considering that he was the one keeping Grant supplied in knives no matter how many Darryl took from the boys and threw into the woods or into lakes or off cliff sides.

            It was especially stressful because there was no escape from the worry. Darryl could joke around and concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, but his problems with Grant were in front of his face all day. If he thought about where they were going, a pit of anxiety opened in his stomach at the thought of what may have become of Henry and Ron, and the thought of what it might take to save everyone now that they’d already failed once.

            If he thought about what was behind him, he found that felt even worse. Grant was right. He couldn’t just sit back and trust the Library to help them, but the fact he’d left without even leaving a note felt wrong. Like he’d owed him an explanation, or a reassurance.  Something so the Library would know it wasn’t that Darryl hated him or regretted everything they’d done together, he just had responsibilities. And also that Darryl was a free American citizen and couldn’t be controlled by a flesh eating monster. Even if he apparently could be seduced by said flesh eating monster.  

            He also couldn’t deny the creeping fear he felt now when he thought about the repercussions there would be when the Library inevitably caught up with them. And he held no delusions over the fact that the Library would, eventually, catch up with them. Even with Grant’s evasive route, the monster knew their destination and could stake them out. If they got into the castle without the Library catching them, odds were high they weren’t going to get out completely stealthily. It was them after all. The Library would show up sooner or later, and…

            Yeah, not something Darryl wanted to think about.

            At least Paeden seemed in better spirits than Darryl and Grant were. The kid spent a lot of time running ahead, climbing trees to get the scope of the land, and seemed extremely excited whenever Grant offered him tips on how to stab better with his knives or when Darryl gave them a little spear fishing lesson.

            Thought as one night drew to a close, while Grant was off by himself, Paeden had quietly admitted to Darryl that he was worried about Walter.

            “I know my bullywug dad is a tough guy, don’t get me wrong!” Paeden had said quickly, “But it’s just… he’s out there somewhere by himself, probably looking for me. W-what if something happens to him without ol’ Paeden to protect him, you know?”

            Darryl had nodded and put an arm around the kid. “Paeden, trust me, we are in way more danger than your dad could possibly be in.”

            “Thanks, man,” Paeden had agreed sleepily in the firelight, genuinely reassured by Darryl’s words. Darryl was significantly less so.

            The journey was long, and arduous, and often dull. But like all journeys in the Forgotten Realms, it did eventually came to an end with Castle Ravenloft once again piercing the horizon. As soon as Darryl recognized it, he grabbed his son’s shoulder. Grant looked at him in confusion as he did.

            “What’s up?” he asked.

            “Look, I’m really proud of you for getting us this far, and I definitely trust that whatever plan you have to get into the castle is going to work but um,” Darryl chewed his tongue for a second before continuing. “Do you think you could fill your old man in on what that plan is? Because I gotta tell you, whatever plan you’ve got it’ll work better if we’re all on the same page. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Library’s already hanging around somewhere waiting to catch us, too.”

            For the first time in days, Grant graced his father with a genuine, bright grin. “Oh don’t worry about that, dad. That’s exactly what I’m counting on.”

*

            Nick Close was bored.

            Not that this was news, or anything. Being bored was normal, now. Being bored was the status quo, and really, it was the only thing he was allowed to consistently be these days. Yelling and throwing things was met with blows to the heads and face. Whining and crying resulted in being thrown in a dark closet for hours and being left to hope that Henry would be able to plead for your release before you got too thirsty.

            There weren’t any drugs or alcohol around, and although there was a courtyard they were given a couple hours a day to run around in, the barrier around the castle prevented any wind and rain from getting in so it didn’t feel much like being outside. There were books to read, and Nick would sometimes flip through them for lack of other options, but most of them were history books on the Forgotten Realms or ‘classic literature’ from Earth that Nick usually wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Terry Junior might be okay reading that shit as handed to him, but Nick wasn’t interested.

            They were given balls to play with (the only kinds of toys deemed worth giving to boys apparently), but despite their inclination to play two on two soccer games out in the courtyard, it was only the twins that seemed able to find things to do during their many hours spent indoors that didn’t involve reading. For those two, anything turned into a toy. Dust cloths could be rolled up as ‘nun-chucks’ and ‘whips’. Stones on the floor were projectiles. Blankets and pillows became forts very quickly. Despite the dire circumstance around it, both twins had perked up considerably now that they had Henry around. He wasn’t allowed to stay with them, but he brought them food at meal times (which were a lot more regular now), and took care of their laundry and stuff like that, so they saw him enough that Lark and Sparrow could at least be assured their father was more or less alright (the occasional black eye or burst lip notwithstanding).

            It was weird, but after their dads had tried to save them, Terry Junior seemed to be more relaxed, too. That didn’t make much sense to Nick, but the guy spent a lot more time wandering off by himself and would come back with reassuring smiles and determined eyes as he faced whatever the grandads threw at them next.

            As time stretched into weeks and Nick’s dad still hadn’t come back to try to save him, though, Nick was starting to wonder if TJ and the twins were deluding themselves. It was obvious that Henry was being kept firmly under the thumb of their grandfathers, and Darryl had no reason to come back with his own son saved. Ron seemed pretty useless as far as Nick could tell and Glenn…

            Nick loved his dad. He did. He loved him so, so much. But as days drifted by with Bear Ry’Oak carting the twins off for ‘magic lessons’ and Willy Stampler insisting Terry Junior join him for ‘fishing lessons’ because he thought he ‘had talent for it’ (Terry Junior wouldn’t talk much about what those entailed but seemed to be enduring Willy with stoicism. He only came back with injuries the first couple of times.), Nick couldn’t help but notice that Bill Close never seemed to care about spending time with Nick. In fact he’d really only seen the guy at a distance, like he was avoiding getting too close. It didn’t make much sense to him, wasn’t he supposed to be trying to be his ‘dad’ or something so he could use ‘daddy magic’?

            Well, the point was that Bill Close was the guy who raised Glenn, and obviously he didn’t give a shit about Glenn or Nick. Obviously Glenn cared about Nick more than Bill did about either of them, that much was clear. But could Nick honestly say that Glenn even knew how to care about him enough to bother coming to save him when he knew it would be hard? When he didn’t have anyone else pushing him to do it?

            At first he figured his dad would definitely be looking for him if only for lack of something better to do, but it had been weeks. Nick couldn’t help the deep, horrifying suspicion in his soul that maybe he had been forgotten about. Or ditched.

            Wouldn’t that be the icing on the fucking cake? His mom dies, his grandpa kidnaps him just to lock him up and ignore him while all the other kids get fawned over, and then his own dad gives up on him.

            Alright, it was wrong to say that Nick was entirely ignored. True, Bear didn’t let Henry spend much time alone with his own sons, and Terry Junior was similarly kept busy, but there were enough times where the other three were gone at the same time, leaving Nick alone and unwanted in the bedroom the kids were all stowed in when there wasn’t any ‘activities’ planned for them (which was frequently. As said, boredom was the norm in Castle Ravenloft). When the rest were gone, sometimes Henry would sneak into the room and slip Nick some extra snacks. They were always vegan and kind of gross, but Nick sort of appreciated it, even if he knew Henry was only doing it because he missed his own kids.

            Henry would reassure Nick that Darryl, Glenn and Ron wouldn’t leave them there, and that they would surely be working to rescue them all as they spoke. And maybe in the first few days Nick would nod and give a thumbs up, spouting an indifferent ‘whatever’.

            During the last few times, Nick had only given Henry a blank stare, and felt a twist of sick satisfaction at the worried look that passed over the old hippie’s face before he scurried away. He was done with empty platitudes. No one was coming. He might as well accept it.

            Nick had entertained the idea of escaping on his own, of course. Before the ‘rescue’, the kids had already been working on that. Grant and Terry Junior had quite a few ideas, and Lark and Sparrow were excited to execute them, Nick was down for whatever but, things had changed. Grant was gone, Terry Junior seemed to be biding his time for something but wouldn’t say what, and the twins had dialed back their chaos massively after Bear took them off for a ‘punishment’ and… he didn’t want to say the twins looked shaken after whatever he did to them (or maybe to Henry?) but more than once since then Nick had casually mentioned getting out of there and Lark would just carefully take Sparrow’s hand and they’d go quiet.

            The worst part was that Nick was pretty sure he could just leave if he wanted. The amount of time he spent left alone, he could probably just walk right out the front door and no one would notice. Thing was, where would he even go? Forget going back to Earth, if his dad wasn’t there he had nothing. He could try to find his dad, but he’d just come off as being clingy if he showed up out of nowhere, especially if his dad wasn’t even looking for him. The Water Mice were gone and so… he had nothing. At least in the castle he had shelter and food.

            So Nick stayed in the castle. So Nick stayed bored. So Nick slowly started to wonder why he bothered trying so hard to make his dad want to be around him, if he was going to just leave him to rot the second he was too hard to reach.

*

            “Okay, so this could be a problem,” Grant said with a frown as he healed Paeden’s broken nose. He wasn’t talking about the broken nose, of course. Grant had gotten very adept at healing spells, and a broken nose was nothing. The problem was what Paeden had bashed his face off of, which was a completely invisible barrier that apparently stretched itself at least half a football field wider than the previous, slightly visible barrier had. “If the barrier is this much further out, and the opening isn’t right in front of where the bridge was, we might have to go around the whole thing to find the opening… if it even exists at all.”

            “Ow,” Paeden said as he rubbed his nose, which still vaguely stung after being snapped back into place.

            Darryl put his hands on his hips as he squinted across the craggy, flat expanse of rock that stretched out before them all the way to the chasm. The bridge was still out, and the castle appeared to be, for all respects, completely inaccessible. “Okay, so we break the barrier, right?”

            Grant grimaced. “Not if we can help it. I don’t think you can break a barrier without the spell caster knowing about it. It would be easiest if we could find a gap like the old one had, but I might be able to make a hole we can get through and close before it’s noticed. It’ll probably take some time, though. And we’re going to have to stay close to the barrier while I’m working on it, too.”

            “Oh,” Darryl said with a frown as he looked back at the empty space where the barrier was. “Okay, well, we should probably walk around it until we find a spot that’s less out in the open, right?”

            Grant nodded and started walking without a proper response, and Darryl could do nothing but follow him as they slowly made their way around and toward a copse of trees that looked like it might be near the barrier from the way it appeared to be curving.

Paeden was running ahead as usual and managed to misjudge the curve of the barrier several times along the way. He was pretty well bruised up by the time they reached the shelter of the thick fir trees and started setting up a temporary ‘camp’ where Darryl laid out the blanket they had stolen from the inn and started to set up a small lunch of rations and some apples they’d stolen from an orchard the day before. Normally Darryl wouldn’t have abided by stealing but, well, it was only a few apples and Grant was right when he pointed out they’d already done a hell of a lot worse on their adventure so far.

            While Darryl busied himself, Grant stepped out of their camp to inspect the bit of barrier closest to them, clutching a book to his chest. Darryl had liked the fact Grant had brought library books with him even worse than having run off without explanation. He didn’t need more reason for the Library to be angry. For now they might help Grant with getting past the barrier, but after that, Darryl was going to have him hide the things. No way would he bring that book somewhere they could get destroyed. He wasn’t going through that mess again.

            Paeden was bored again within five minutes of finishing his lunch, and seeing as Grant didn’t seem anywhere close to making a hole in the barrier, Darryl decided to focus on occupying Paeden with… well, anything that didn’t involve knives, really. That was proving hard to do, seeing as Paeden was a very tactile child and he couldn’t just let him go running his energy off at the moment.

            “Hey, catch!” Darryl said fast and threw a pinecone at Paeden’s torso from where he was seated. The eight year old caught it easily, his reflexes had been getting steadily better these last couple weeks under Grant’s tutoring. Darryl couldn’t help the proud smile on his face. Sometimes he almost wished they hadn’t found Walter for Paeden so that Darryl could feel justified carrying him out of this harsh world and adopt him into his own family in San Dimas. But then again, if Paeden really had some weird knife spawning powers, Faerun might be the best place for him. He’d probably end up in juvenile hall within his first day of Earth school if he got caught with a knife.

            “Um, I dunno if I really want to play catch right now?” Paeden said carefully as he threw the pinecone back to Darryl.

            “Why not?” Darryl asked, throwing the pinecone again. Paeden caught it.

            “Um, I dunno. I don’t really like being here?” Paeden scratched his head and threw the pinecone back. Darryl caught it. “It’s just got a bad energy, and you know, after last time…”

            “You don’t have to go in with us if you don’t want to,” Darryl said carefully, turning the pinecone over in his hand before throwing it again. This time Paeden didn’t move to catch it and it landed in his lap.

            Paeden swallowed. “No, you won’t get rid of me that easy! If you’re going in, so am I! We gotta save the other dads, right? I’m just, uh, I feel itchy? Does that make sense? I don’t know, the magic here feels worse than it did last time. Plus… I don’t really want to see Willy again?”

            “Really, Paeden, you don’t have to come. We’re just going to go in, grab everyone and leave. It might even be easier if it’s just me and Grant.” Darryl would prefer it if it was just him, but if these last several days had taught him anything it was that Grant would not tolerate being left behind. He’d just follow anyway, stopping him was pointless. It was better just to be there if he needed him.

            “No way coach, I’m in this!” Paeden insisted, picking up the pinecone again, only to toss it carelessly over his shoulder. “I don’t care if we’re facing certain death! I’m with you till the end of the line, buddy!”

            Darryl didn’t respond. Instead he was squinting down at the palm of his left hand. It looked normal, just as it had since Grant had doused it in goo. But, just for a moment there when Paeden mentioned certain death, he could’ve sworn the palm of his hand went curiously numb.

            The feeling passed quickly though, so Darryl set the thought aside. “We’re not going to die, Paeden. And anyway, even if we did run into trouble, I’m sure they won’t kill you and Grant. They didn’t last time, I can’t see why they would now. And if they try, you know I’d jump in front of a bullet for you anytime, right?”

            Paeden started to protest, but Darryl barely heard him over the stutter of his heart. He knew his hand had gone numb that time, even if it was only for a moment. Part of his right foot had gone cold as well.

            Was Grant’s spell finally wearing off? He had just ‘renewed’ it that morning, but he had said a while ago that it was only a temporary solution. Of all the shitty timing.

             “Hold on Paeden, I need to talk to Grant for a second,” Darryl said, waving off the boy’s offended expression as he got to his wobbly feet and made his way over and through the bushes to where his son was working.

            Grant sat cross-legged on the ground, an open book in front of him, but his eyes were focused on what looked like empty space in front of him. Only, as Darryl followed the gaze, he realised that hanging in mid-air was a very small, white dot.

Grant looked so small on the ground like that, and Darryl wished yet again that they had never come to this world, that Grant never had to wear that serious look on his face. He was way too young for all this shit.

            “Um, Grant?”

            Grant grunt, his eyes narrowing a fraction and the white dot vanished. He looked up at Darryl with a frown. “Um, hey dad. What’s up?”

            “Nothing much!” Darryl said quickly. “Just, uh, I think your spell’s wearing off? My hand went numb just now, like it does when the Library possesses it? I didn’t see his eye or anything, but I think he might be trying to find us. You might want to renew the spell again or something.”

            Grant’s eyes widened, but he turned his face back down toward his book before Darryl could see more of his expression. “Don’t worry about that. It’s fine.”

            “It… it is?”

            “Yeah, that’s fine, dad. Trust me. Just go back and wait with Paeden, I’ll have this dealt with in, um,” he looked back up, and directly at Darryl’s right hand. His voice rose considerably as he finished. “I should be done in exactly an hour and a half!”

            “Um, great?” Darryl knew that was weird, but relented and returned to Paeden, who was now spearing pine cones with yet another knife. Darryl didn’t bother taking that one. He sat heavily on the ground instead, leaned up against a tree trunk, and waited.

            Exactly forty-five minutes later, Grant announced that Darryl and Paeden had to get up and over to him right now. They lined up in front of a white, glowing circle in the air just big enough for Darryl to fit through, and Grant sped through information so fast Darryl struggled to keep up.

            “This portal will stay open for exactly one hour. We need to get in and out in that time, because there’s no way I’m going to be able to open it again on the other side for a quick escape. That means whatever we do in there, we have to be fast. And dad?”

            “Yeah, Grant?”

            “How’s your hand?”

            “Um, it seems fine, now?”

            Grant squinted down at Darryl’s hand for a second, then shrugged. “Okay, Paeden, you first.”

            “You got it, chief!” Paeden saluted and then dove through the circle. To an observer, it just looked like he jumped through a ring of light and nothing happened. However, when Paeden tried to excitedly run back around the ring of light, he smacked into the other side of the barrier. It worked. Darryl was so proud of his son.

            “Alright Grant, your turn!” Darryl nodded, but Grant shook his head.

            “I uh, I gotta be the last one. Cause it’s my spell,” Grant said, a light flush to his cheeks. He was lying, but Darryl wasn’t sure why. “We don’t have time for this, dad! You gotta get in there!”

            “Okay, okay, just-” Darryl took a step toward the white light. Or tried to. His right foot wouldn’t move.

            “Dad, go!” Grant snapped, and Darryl shook his head slowly.

            “Um, son, I’m really sorry to say it but I think your spell wore off.”

            “What?”

            “My foot won’t move. He got- the Library’s got my foot. He won’t-”

            “Perfect,” Grant hissed, and at first Darryl thought he was being sarcastic until he saw the satisfied smile on his son’s face. His son made a lot of unexpected expressions these days, but this one was new to Darryl. “Hey, Library!”

            “What are you doing?!” Darryl gaped as his son only spoke louder, over him.

            “Hey Library, I bet this is about all you can do right now, huh? Hold my dad back from doing what he wants to do? Well I’m going to stop that again in a second, so if you want to drag us back to that stupid keep of yours, you’re going to have to get your own ugly face out here and through this hole before it closes. And hey, while you’re in there, maybe you might want to do a little late fee collecting. You said Willy Stampler borrowed something from you, right?”

            “Grant, stop it, don’t talk to the- what are you doing?” Darryl gasped and then coughed loudly as Grant threw a fistful of powder from a pouch he had clutched in his fist into Darryl’s face. Then he was chanting fast, and Darryl felt the cool slather of more goo over his hand. At only a minor prompt, he put his weight on his left foot while Grant pried his right foot off the ground, yanked his shoe and sock off, and slathered goo there are well until feeling returned to it and Darryl staggered and found himself leaning hard against the invisible barrier for support. Grant pulled himself to his feet, grabbed Darryl’s shoe and threw it through the hole where Paeden caught it on the other side. Darryl only had seconds to realise Grant had used a lot less of that goo than he had last time.

            “GO, Dad!” Grant snapped and Darryl, completely lost as to what the hell had just happened and feeling like a puppet on strings, climbed through the hole. Grant followed fast at his heels. Paeden passed him his shoe on the other side, and he yanked it on as Grant re-adjusted his bag on his back and tightened his lip against his father’s alarmed and questioning look.

            “Grant, do you want the Library to follow us?”

            “I think we could use his help.” Grant shrugged, not looking at Darryl. “This is just a way to enforce that. I don’t have time to explain right now, but I swear I will after, alright?”

            Darryl didn’t like the sound of that at all, but Grant was right, they didn’t have much time. “Okay, but we are definitely talking about this later, young man.”

            “Whatever dad, we’ve only got an hour. Let’s move.”

            “Let’s move!” Paeden cheered, throwing a fist in the air.

            “Yeah, let’s move,” Darryl grumbled, following the boys and cast a worried look first at his hand, and then at the half-concealed portal behind them.

            He hoped trusting his son was the right call.

Chapter 21: Stealth

Summary:

They reach the castle, but the Library is on their heels, and Henry has been having a bad time.

Notes:

Hey. Been a while.

Well.

Here's this then.

Oh btw theres masturbation in this chapter hooray idk this chapter was supposed to be longer and then i gave up and split it in half I guess

21 Stealth

            Ron Stampler had never thought of himself as the heroic type. When he was growing up, his father had made it abundantly clear that a hero fit a very particular mold. A hero had to be tall, and muscular, with a chiselled jaw and a hard glint in his eyes. He would fight in a war and come back alive and world-weary. He would shoot guns, and saved lives by hitting people very hard, and absolutely never cried.

            Ron couldn’t think of himself as a hero. He wasn’t tall, or muscular, and his jawline was practically non-existent. He never really fought anyone in a way Willy Stampler would approve of, and he definitely never shot a gun. He certainly cried too much to be one.

            When Ron managed to finally meet with Terry Junior from within one of the secret passageways of Castle Ravenloft, he felt the furthest from a hero he ever had. After the events of the failed rescue attempt, Ron had managed to evade capture long enough to hide himself inside a storage room, and was lucky enough to find a loose stone in the floor that led into the labyrinth of passages that snaked around nearly the whole of the castle. It didn’t seem that Willy Stampler or the other grandads had any idea these passages existed, nor the numerous spy-holes that were drilled into tapestries, paintings, suits of armour and stuffed animal heads that existed throughout the interior.

            The passages were very small in places, once or twice Ron had spent a few terrifying moments trapped between narrow stones and had to calm himself enough to push all the air out of his lungs to slip through. After the second time, he had stolen a tub of grease along with the usual morsels he nipped from the kitchen through a number of arm-sized secret doors that were in the back of every cupboard.

            The passages were also full of spiders and rats, but Ron didn’t mind that. It was lonely looking out from the many peepholes at the castle’s inhabitants, and it was nice to have rat friends that didn’t disappear in an hour. One had taken a special liking to Ron after he shared some peanut butter with it, and had taken to riding around on the top of Ron’s head. Ron named the rat Terry.

            Ron missed Terry. Junior. The boy, not the rat. The rat was right there with him, he couldn’t miss Terry the rat. But Terry the boy, Ron could miss very much, and did so. One might be able to say that Terry Junior was also with Ron, however. After all, Ron spent a rather lot of his time watching over Terry from his hiding places. He knew which bed in the small bedroom all the boys shared was Terry Junior’s. He knew what books Terry Junior had been reading. He knew that Terry Junior picked the raisins out of the bread that Henry gave him, and that he ate his vegetables first and meat last when given a meal. He knew what Willy was trying to teach Terry during their ‘fishing lessons’ and watching it made Ron feel as sick as Terry Junior looked, though Ron was helpless to do anything about it.

            If Ron could, he would invite Terry Junior to live in the secret passages with him. It was dark and vermin-infested, but Ron still felt free there, in a way. He certainly had never felt this much freedom in any house containing his father before. No one told him what he wanted to eat was for girls, or where he wanted to go was for girls, or what he wanted to do was too ‘feminine’. He thought Terry Junior might enjoy it as well, if he only gave wall-life a chance. Perhaps even the others boys would like to come or heck, even Henry might learn to enjoy life lived secretly inside walls.

            Unfortunately, Ron couldn’t invite any of them to live in the wall with him, because Ron had no idea how to get out of the walls himself, let alone how to get anyone else in.

He had been scared and disoriented when he initially entered the walls through that storage room, and had yet to find either where that entrance to the walls had been, or really any other entrances into the walls in all the weeks he had been wandering around in there. That is, except for one that led to a door in the side of the castle wall on the very edge of the island hanging over the chasm. The sheer drop was enough to dissuade Ron from trying to get out of the walls that way. Besides, he couldn’t leave Castle Ravenloft without Terry. He loved Terry. He would never leave him behind, ever.

            So instead, Ron took all his bird watching skills and focused his attention more on his son than it ever had been before. He became a professional Terry-watcher. Maybe in some light that would be creepy, but honestly, Ron had been called creepy by a variety of people over his life. He was pretty immune to it by now. Anyway, he was only doing it to ensure that Terry was okay. And because there was literally nothing else for him to do, really. But mainly the first thing.

            After two weeks of wall life, there was a breakthrough. Terry Junior was left in the bedroom by himself, the twins off with Bear Ry’Oak and Nick Close had claimed he was going to try to steal some food from the kitchen (he would eventually return to the room with some fresh bruises for his trouble). Ron had been able to knock on the wall until Terry Junior had actually come to press his ear up against it near the severed lion head and Ron was finally able to talk to him.

            Ron had told Terry Junior he was there for him, and Terry Junior had started crying. Ron wasn’t sure why that was, but Terry had listened when Ron had told him he was trying to find a way out of the wall that didn’t lead to a chasm of death, and Terry had in turn said he would try to find a way into the wall from his end. Then Ron assured Terry Junior that no matter what happened, he would get him out of this. He swore on his own dearly departed ability to wear pants.

            Terry Junior had laughed, the first time Ron had heard him laugh since he got to the Forgotten Realms. Then, he had called Ron his hero. Ron thought he might’ve been sarcastic, but when he asked, Terry Junior had said “No, of course not.” Which, really, could have also been sarcasm, but Ron chose to believe it wasn’t and thanked Terry anyway.

            From that point on, Ron and Terry Junior were a team. At Terry’s request, Ron stopped being a Terry-watcher and became a grandad-watcher. He learned many terrible things from this practice, but he told them to Terry because he knew that Terry was very smart, just like Samantha, and together, Ron and his son would save the day.

            “You’re my hero, too, Terry,” Ron had said quietly during one of their top secret meetings. As he had watched Terry walking back to the boy’s quarters, he had been smiling. Ron was happy he made Terry smile. Maybe Ron was something of a hero after all.

            In the fourth week trapped in the walls of Castle Ravenloft, Ron had just spent an hour watching Bill Close sitting alone the library staring blankly at a wall before determining he would be doing the same thing today as he had the last several. Ron left his spying spot, looking out of the portholes of a large ship painted on a canvas hanging across from the large stone fireplace, and turned himself sideways to slip out of that gap and into the wider passage that led around the side of the front hall and back toward the kitchens in hopes of fetching a snack.

            As he passed through the wall near one of the side entrances to the castle, however, Ron paused as he heard a familiar voice he hadn’t heard in nearly a month echoing from near the small wooden door.

            “It’s okay Grant, Paeden’s probably picked tons of locks in his day, right buddy?”

            “Man, if I could pick locks, I wouldn’t have tried to go down my dad’s chimney.”

            “Oh, right. Uh. Hey Grant, did you happen to read any books on lock picking?”

            “I mostly read books on magic, dad.”

            “Magic lock picking?”

            “I guess I could burn the door down, it’s made of wood.”

            “I don’t know if that’s a great idea bud, the smoke might alert them we’re here.”

            “I could hack at it with my knife!”

            “We have less than an hour, Paeden. I don’t think we have time for that.”

            Ron didn’t have any spyholes to peer outside the castle walls, but he got his mouth close to the point of the wall he could hear the voices clearest from (there were slivers of light visible between the stones) and raised his voice as loud as he dared. “Darryl! It’s me, Ron!”

            There was a shout of surprise and then the sound of scrambling and scraping before Darryl spoke again. “Ron, are you behind the door? Open the door, Ron!”

            “I can’t, I’m not behind the door, I’m in the wall!”

            “You’re behind the wall?”

            “No, I’m in the wall! I’ve been in here for a really long time.”

            “Well, get out of the wall and come get the door open, we’re here to save you guys!”

            “I can’t, I don’t know how to get out of the wall!”

            Grant cut in, his voice a lot more level than his dad’s. “Ron, can you get the other kids to the door? Maybe they can just get them out through here. Even if you can just find one to let us in we could work with that.”

            “Yeah, um, there’s passages all over the place in here! I’m sure I can find someone! Only I’m going to go to the kitchen first to get a snack. Um, can I offer you any refreshments as well?”

            “Ron, we don’t really have a lot of time here. I need you to get help first, okay?” Darryl stressed, and Ron sighed. He had gotten used to the low-expectations, high-freedom lifestyle, and being denied the chance of impromptu snacks was a bit of a downer, but he was quick to rally. After all, this could be his chance to save Terry Junior and be the hero he needed and deserved! Just like that one movie. He couldn’t remember which one. I might’ve been Air Bud. He liked that movie. There was a pretty good dog in that movie, if his memory served.

            “Alright Darryl, you just wait here. I’m going to be just like Air Bud, you’ll see!”

            “O-kay Ron?” Darryl said carefully as Ron started jogging down the corridor in the direction of the boy’s bedroom. It didn’t take him long to reach it, it was the one room in the castle he knew how to reach from just about any direction. When he peered out the eyes of the stuffed lion head however, he was disappointed to find Terry Junior gone. The twins, in fact, were missing as well. The only boy in the room was Nick Close, who was lying listlessly on his mattress, staring at the ceiling, and mumbling what sounded like song lyrics to a song Ron didn’t know.

            “Nick!” Ron yelled as loud as possible. Until this point, Terry Junior had advised Ron not to try to contact the other boys. He didn’t trust the twins or Nick not to spill the beans about Ron’s in-wall adventures at the wrong moment. In fact, he had even said that Henry would be a bad idea since he, quote, ‘can’t lie for shit’. But even Ron knew that desperate times called for desperate measures.

            At the sound of his name, Nick Close practically bolted up in bed, his hands instinctively shooting up to cover his face. When no blow came, Nick glanced around the room, and frowned when he didn’t see anyone. “What?” he asked, frowning.

            “Nick, it’s me! It’s Ron Stampler, Terry’s dad!”

            “Ron?” Nick’s eyes widened, the corners of his mouth tugging upward. “Oh shit, you came back? You came back with the other dads! With my-”

            “Oh no, I’ve been here the whole time, in the walls! Glenn and Darryl got out, but I got trapped in here. I’ve been watching you kids this whole time when you didn’t know I was! Except for Terry. He knew.”

            Nick deflated and fell back on his bed again. “Oh. So that’s why TJ’s been so on top of everything. He had a spy. That’s super creepy by the way.”

            “I know.” Ron replied. There was a long pause. “Anyways, I’m here because I need you to go to the side entrance of the castle and open the door so that Darryl can get in.”

            Nick sat up again, this time even swinging his legs to put his feet on the floor. “Darryl’s here? With my dad? They did come back for us?”

            “Well uh, I don’t know about-”

            “I’m going, you go see if you can find the other kids or whatever. Nick Close is getting the fuck out of here!” Nick jumped up and ran from the room, leaving Ron dithering on whether or not he nailed it.

            Well, he figured at this point with Nick heading for the door, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Ron to stop by the kitchen for that snack. Heck, maybe he could tell Henry the good news while he was there! After all, if Nick knew, he’d probably tell the twins, and so Henry was bound to find out eventually. This decided, Ron sauntered off to the kitchen feeling very pleased with himself indeed.

*

            The Library had been having a very trying couple of weeks.

            He couldn’t say that he was exactly surprised when he returned to the inn in Rocqueporte an hour from sunrise only to find beds empty, no note, and supplies gone. Given that he had been well sated in blood and flesh of those who would keep his books from him, he wasn’t even exactly angry. If the Library felt anything as he stared at the rumbled sheets and large depression in the mattress where Darryl had been sleeping, it was disappointment. Somehow the monster had convinced himself that Darryl might actually protest when his son inevitably tried to lure him out of his master’s grasp, and seeing the evidence to the contrary hurt the Library in ways he wasn’t aware he could be hurt.

            But after stewing in his own negative feelings for a while, the Library had gone into investigation mode. He was quick to check if his connection to Darryl’s limbs was still in place. He expected that Grant would try and end it entirely, but doubted the boy would have enough arcane skill to manage an entire severing (unless he went the literal route). Sure enough, the Library could still detect the presence of the limbs in his flesh network, proving that if nothing else, Darryl was still alive and using them. Unfortunately, when he tried to pinpoint the location of said limbs, his sense was overcome with an unpleasant buzzing sensation that drowned out his perception. A stronger, stinging vibration shook his skull when he tried to grab control of one to have a look around.

            So. Grant was fairly thorough. The Library was impressed, even if he would be forced to punish the child for borrowing his things without permission. He knew Darryl wouldn’t like it, but surely he would understand the necessity and forgive him as long as he didn’t kill the child.

            The Library had then headed off without another word into the dawn. At the very least, it was very obvious where the group of humans would be going. Undoubtedly their destination was Ravenloft again, and if their trip to Rocqueporte was any indication, they would be taking their time with it. The Library knew he should have been easily able to catch up with them, or if they took a route, he would definitely be able to overtake them and cut them off before they reached the castle.

            That was the thought, anyway. In practice, however, the Library seemed to have drastically underestimated how slow the boys would actually be. After briskly walking at top speed for about a day and half, the Library came to the conclusion he must have passed them. He slowed himself down. Stopped at a couple settlements along the way to collect and distribute books. Devoured a couple of people. Every once in a while (more like every hour or so, not that he would admit it) he would check in with Darryl’s hand just to make sure he was still alive. The soft acknowledgement was good, a relief. Though the Library knew he was going to have to be quick about finding him again. He definitely had a bad habit of getting into trouble.

            The Library eventually took to asking around about Darryl in the towns he came across. None had seen him, which indicated that the Library was definitely ahead of him, but he did leave denizens of each village with a request to send forward any information they heard about Darryl by magical means. It was only then that the Library finally began to get a bigger picture of what Darryl and Grant’s actual route was. It seemed they were taking a rather scenic voyage down side roads and meandering their way to the castle, most likely to throw the monster off their trail. It was working, as the Library couldn’t predict their movements enough to do more than try to move in the direction of their last known location, only to find himself in the entirely wrong place a couple of days later.

            It was frustrating, but again, the Library was somewhat impressed. After all, he certainly didn’t expect a human child to have him so thoroughly vexed. At least he assumed that Grant was the cause of his problems, there was no way that Darryl would think to do more than blindly run in the direction of the castle. He loved Darryl, in his way, but he simply did not think much of his ability to think ahead.

            Eventually the Library gave up and decided to go and wait near Castle Ravenloft for however much longer it took the boys to reach it. It was a pain, but at least this would be a good learning experience for what direct defiance would earn them. While the Library lounged on his massive pile of books just off the field where they had gathered their army the last time they had tried to assault Castle Ravenloft, he had plenty of time to plan very gruesome punishments. He also had plenty of time to later think better of that and soften those punishments as long as Darryl was suitably apologetic. Then as the days dragged on, he came up with more realistic and constructive consequences.

            Paeden would be dumped back in Rocqueporte whether his father was there or not. It seemed as though the town had plenty of orphans running around there already, he would be fine until the bullywug returned. The mystery of his importance was not nearly intriguing enough to risk the boy dragging Darryl back into this mess once he was out of it. And since the boy was very young and was clearly influenced by the other two, there was no reason to do anything else to him.

Grant would be given a choice, he supposed, whether he would consent to leave this world via the portal upon his collection, or if he would rather stay and be bound into an… admittedly severe blood pact. But surely at this point it would be deserved.

And Darryl, sweet misguided Darryl, well. He had many delicious punishments in store of Darryl, but the only one that the Library meant as an actual punishment would be to take control of his remaining hand and foot and essentially ground him to the castle for the next decade or so. If he had to find him babysitters or start a mail service for his books, so be it. He wasn’t going through this hassle and stress again, not a chance. A decade should be long enough to fully secure the man’s loyalty, surely.

            Altogether, he thought these were all very merciful punishments indeed. The monster sighed wistfully as he looked up at the lazily moving clouds. Could it be that he was going soft? He had always been very strict with rule breakers in the past, and yet for Darryl he was willing to pull just about any string he could to save him from the full extent of his wrath. Darryl was important to him. That much was obvious. More so than the Library’s books? He didn’t think so, but the more his thoughts were consumed with concern and longing for his missing pet, the more he thought that it would make sense if they were of equal value to him. After all, one of the reasons he was so attached to his books was that they each held a part of him, and did not Darryl also have a part of the Library within him now? In more ways than one, even. The Library chuckled and sighed, his crotch wriggling slightly in memory until the monster forced it to stop. There was no time for that.

He had to stay vigilant. At this point, the boys could be arriving any day. Any hour, really, by the last couple of reports he had received from nearby villages. The Library would occasionally do circuits of the castle’s barrier, and had attuned himself enough to its magic that he was fairly sure if he concentrated he would feel if there was a disruption within it. It wasn’t a perfect system, however. He couldn’t afford distractions. But still his mind would wander. He would occasionally pick up a book and be drawn in and forget what he was doing, only to abruptly realise his folly and set the book down to refocus himself.

His mind was already long wandered in this instance. He had to check the barrier again. But as he tried to reach his awareness in that direction, an image of Darryl filled his mind unexpectedly and his crotch gave another twitch. The Library grit his teeth and tried to will the thought away, but it had been such a long time since he’d fooled around with the human, and it had even been a couple of days since he indulged himself in any sort of release. He never used to need to masturbate, but now…

The Library sighed softly and loosened his trousers in defeat. There was nothing else for it, he would be able to concentrate better if he could just take the edge off. He folded a couple of limbs behind his head, and pushed a couple inside his pants, circling the wriggling tentacle and gently squeezing it as he let his mind finally let go of its vigilance and indulge in the thoughts that never seemed far from him these days.

He started on the most obvious part of Darryl he missed, that indescribable, incomparable flavour. The Library groaned quietly as he recalled the savoury, rich taste of his meat, the tang of the spices he would use to cook himself. And wasn’t that even more delectable, the fact that Darryl was willing to garnish and roast his own flesh like an offering for his master? It didn’t hurt that his pet was an excellent little chef as well. The Library couldn’t wait to devour him again, piece by piece, savouring every inch of him.

As the Library’s fingers massaged the tentacle from base to tip, his thoughts drifted to the more carnal concept of taste, and he found himself equally missing the salt of his sweat, the scent of the man’s arousal, the warm, soft skin under the Library’s many hands. The sound of his gasps and grunts, the sight of his face as he gave in to pleasure and forgot his own inhibitions. It happened faster and faster with each coupling, the Library was sure that Darryl would soon leave his embarrassment aside and he couldn’t wait for the day Darryl began to approach him willingly instead of pretending that the Library was the only one who wanted to initiate their little encounters.

The Library remembered how Darryl had looked all tucked up into that bed the night he had left him, how vulnerable he had been when the Library had assured him he would be back later to comfort him with the joining of their bodies. How often had he wished he had stayed just a while longer? Perhaps if he had left Darryl exhausted from an hour or two of intense love-making he wouldn’t have been able to stand let alone run off. He should have thought of that sooner, really.

The Library’s thumb brushed over the tip of his sex, and he threw back his head as the outer layer of skin peeled back to reveal the tendrils writhing beneath, begging for attention. They hungrily sought out the Library’s fingers, twining around them and pulling his hand within their confines and holding it there firmly while the monster could only writhe his digits and buck upward again and again, Darryl’s name falling from his lips like a prayer.

He would have his pet beneath him again, and once he did, he couldn’t let him go. He had been too quick to trust him clearly, especially with his angry son around, but he wouldn’t make that mistake twice. He would drag them home, and there would be no more talk about dangerous rescue missions or anything else of the kind. Darryl belonged somewhere safe and protected. In his bed. Maybe tied down. Oh god, Darryl tied to his bed helplessly, crying out as the Library writhed inside him, filled him with his essence, knowing that there would be no escape, and then at the peak of his bliss unhinging his jaw and swallowing Darryl inside himself, compressing him, assimilating him so closely he couldn't find where Darryl ended and the Library began within him...

The Library came with a shout, mucus flooding over his hand and soaking his trousers. It didn’t matter, he could reabsorb it in a moment. One of the many ways his body was more efficient than his pet’s. The Library lay there a while longer, breathing hard in his afterglow.

Darryl’s image flooded his mind again after only a moment’s quiet. The Library scowled. Could he truly not leave the monster in peace for a moment? This was ridiculous. The Darryl in the Library’s thoughts wasn’t one overcome by desire any longer, however. No, this Darryl looked pained, worried. He certainly had made that face enough that the Library was long tired of it, but he considered it now. Would the consequence of locking Darryl up be that this was all he would get from him outside the throws of passion? A man overcome with grief and fear for his friends and loved ones? With his mind cleared post-orgasm, the Library had to admit to himself that he didn’t like that outcome either.

Perhaps he should have simply come up with a plan to rescue the other humans himself. He could have called Scam, they probably would have been able to save them without even getting Darryl involved at all. Had he really thought he could just distract the stubborn human from his quest? That had been shockingly naïve of him.

The image of Darryl grew stronger. It thrummed with life. The Library’s eyes shot open as he realised this was not a mere intrusive fantasy. The connection was being re-established.

The monster immediately threw the attention of his flesh network onto his pet’s hand. He felt it, he felt his consciousness invade the hand for a moment, and then lose the connection again. So he tried again. He got control of the hand. He couldn’t move it, but he could hold it still. He tried for the foot as well, only for the stinging pain to prickle up and drive off his control once more.

But he knew that his influence had been stronger that time. On top of that, for an instant, the direction Darryl was in relation to him had been indicated like a faint ping on a radar. He was by the barrier. He knew he was by the barrier. So close! The Library’s pile of books shuddered beneath him as black ooze leaked from the monster’s back and over them, slowly pulling them back into his body even as he kept trying to gain more information from the shaky signal of his partially severed flesh network.

As the last books finally vanished into his back, the Library frowned with annoyance. He couldn’t get another locational ping, but he definitely felt the connection stronger than before. If he concentrated, he could even hear broken bits of voices through it. Darryl was speaking with his son, he definitely said the Library’s name. And then… no, it was too muffled. The Library took off jogging in the direction of the barrier. It would take a while to reach it, but if he circled around he was bound to find out where they were. He hoped he had enough time.

Grant was speaking now. An hour and half until its ready, he said. An hour and a half until what was ready? His barrier breaking spell, presumably. Well, the Library would definitely get there by that time. In fact, he slowed himself to a walk since the pressure of an unknown deadline was off. Wouldn’t the look on Grant’s face just be hilarious when the Library showed up just in time to put a stop to his ill-conceived little plan?

Unfortunately, just as the Library reached the edge of the barrier, he felt a disruption of magic. He wasn’t sure what it was at first, but as soon as he realised something was slightly off with the barrier, the monster was quick to turn his attention back to Darryl. They were speaking again, only now the Library could hear every word. The ward was broken, they were going through the barrier, and nearly on the opposite side of the thing from where the Library was? Of all the rotten luck.

They were going through the barrier. He had to stop them. He grabbed control of Darryl’s foot and rooted it to the ground, relieved that much worked, at least. He couldn’t open the mouth he had installed on it, but if he could just hold Darryl still until he got there, everything would be fine.

The Library stumbled slightly when Grant started speaking to him, and the monster’s irritation mounted with every sentence. That little brat thought he could just take away his control of his pet again? That child better hope he didn’t get to that hole in the barrier or he… did he just mentioned collecting late fees? And Willy Stampler?

The monster slowed slightly when he realised what the boy’s plan was. The monster actually started laughing, even as he felt his control over Darryl dissipate and smother yet again. It didn’t matter, he could still track the hole in the barrier, now. He would get there soon enough.

Grant had wanted the Library to find them. In fact, the boy was likely counting on it. He knew full well that he didn’t have enough magic to fight off the powerful warlocks he was up against, and he surely didn’t care if the Library died fighting his battles for him. Clever, clever little boy. The Library was definitely going to bite his fingers off for this one, Darryl’s sensibilities be damned.

*

            Darryl was relieved when Nick Close opened the door into the castle and let himself and the boys inside, but he definitely clocked the bone-shattering disappointment on the boy’s face when he saw his own dad wasn’t with them. Darryl’s assurances that Glenn was probably just held up and would be happy to see him safe didn’t seem to do much to reassure the kid, and honestly, Darryl couldn’t really blame him.

            After all, Glenn liked making plans. He was with Scam Likely, who also loved to make plans and screwing people over. If neither of them had even tried to break the kids out in all the time between the last attempt and now, it was entirely possible they had no intention to, so what else could Nick think about Glenn’s priorities?

            That couldn’t be dwelt on at the moment, however. They were in a dangerous place, and according to Nick, the other boys were off with their grandparents and not readily available to scoop up and run with, although Nick did say Henry was probably in the kitchen and offered to lead them there. That would be a relief. As soon as he found Henry, he could send the boys back outside with him and go on alone to get the other kids.

            “The kitchen’s just in there,” Nick said in a flat voice, jerking his thumb toward a thick wood door. “Um, Henry might not look great, though. Just a head’s up. They caught him last time he was sneaking me extra food and um, yeah.”

            “Okay?” Darryl glanced at Grant, who shrugged. It wasn’t like he knew what had happened since he had been at castle Ravenloft. All he would say about his own time there was that the grandads mainly ignored him and called him ‘the backup plan’, so that didn’t give much indication of what they might’ve done to Henry.

            When they pushed open the door they were faced with an astoundingly out of place Earth-style kitchen with what looked like a modern stove and fridge set up against the far wall, a large stainless steel sink sunk into one of the many countertops, and even a linoleum floor even if the walls themselves were still made of stone.

They saw Henry kneading bread dough on the granite countertop with a long metal chain connecting his ankle to the stove. It seemed that what the grandads had done to Henry was kick the shit out of him. His clothes were replaced with a long, flowing green robe, but that was smudged and worn in places, covered in flour and sauce stains. His blond hair was tied back in a braid. It was longer than Darryl had remembered, and more neatly kept than it had ever been, but it exposed the deep purple bruises ringing the man’s neck. When Henry turned, the black eye and scarred lip where it had been burst against his teeth almost overshadowed the look of immeasurable relief that overcame his face.

            “Darryl! You’re here! You came back, you really- I mean, Ron said you were here, but I didn’t even know Ron was here and he said he’d been living in the wall so I didn’t know if I was going crazy or he was going crazy, and even if he wasn’t I need to make all the bread for the week still, and if you were here for the kids you might’ve not even c-come f-f-for me-” Henry covered his mouth with a gasp as his eyes brightened abruptly with unshed tears. Darryl’s heart pounded and ached at the sight. Henry had been suffering this much, and meanwhile Darryl had just been fooling around with the Library? Maybe Grant was right when he said the monster had been brainwashing him.

            “Henry, it’s okay man. We’ll bust you out. Look, we already got Nick! I’ll get you out of here and you can leave with these guys out the side door. I’ll get the others and meet you outside.” Darryl looked down at the chain for a second before grabbing it and attempting to physically break it with his bare hands.

            “What? No, Darryl my boys are still in here! I’m not leaving without my kids, Darryl!”

            “Me either!” Came Ron’s voice from the wall.

            “It’s fine, I’ve got it!” Darryl knocked Grant’s hands away as he tried to help and the metal groaned between his fists. “And you’re getting out of here, Henry! Look at yourself, you’re in no shape for a fight! I’ll save your kids, you know you can trust me!”

            “Of course I trust you!” Henry said, his voice haggard and weak. “But those are my beautiful boys, Darryl. I couldn’t just let you… oh shoot, this is exactly how you felt when you snuck into the castle with us before, wasn’t it? I’m sorry I gave you a hard time over that, I wasn’t thinking. I hope you can forgive me.”

            Darryl didn’t answer, instead he crowed in triumph as the metal gave way and broke apart in his hands. He turned to Henry, holding the broken chain with a grin. Henry still seemed stressed. “Thank you, Darryl. But in all seriousness, even if it makes me something of a hypocrite, I can’t let you go and save my boys without me.”

            “Gee, isn’t that sweet,” Nick said in a dull voice, arms folded listlessly across his stomach. “What are we going to do now? I don’t even know where Willy and Bear take the others when they go to their ‘lessons’.”

            “Hey guys!” Ron abruptly said from the wall, drawing everyone’s startled attention. “Um, I got bored while you were talking and left for a bit, you know, to clear my head and such. And um, while I was doing that, I noticed the Library was wandering around? So since I know he’s been making love with Darryl these days, I said hello and told him where you guys are, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you out when he gets here.”

            “The Library?” Henry blinked, then brightened. “Oh, you got him to help you! That’s so good, I’m glad to hear your relationship is moving in a more healthy direction! I was worried about you… Um, Darryl? You uh, you’ve gone pretty pale over there, what’s up?”

            “I’m so fucked,” Darryl whimpered. Grant looked at him and glared.

            “Keep it together, Dad. This is fine. We’re already in, and he knows someone in this building has a book overdue. He won’t be able to leave until it’s collected. I did my research on this.”

            “Yeah, okay, but what about after he gets the book back? Grant, I’m sorry kid, but I really don’t think you thought this through.”

            “Dad, it’s cool, really! There’s three of them, right? We probably can’t beat them ourselves, but that monster will probably be able to give them a fight, since there’s no way Willy Stampler’s gonna willingly let him collect a late fee, right? The Library will slow them down, and they’ll probably kill the Library, meanwhile we all escape. It will literally solve all our problems at once!” Grant grinned, triumphant even as Darryl’s blood turned to ice.

            “You… Grant, you want to get the Library killed?”

            Grant winced under his dad’s horrified look. “Yessss?”

            Darryl pushed his hands through his hair and a tiny screaming noise issued from deep in his throat. He cast his eyes on Henry, and thank god the aging hippie seemed to have a better grasp of this situation than he did.

            “Now Grant, I’ll tell you what I tell my own beautiful boys when they announce that they want to kill someone. And that is, I want you to put yourself in the shoes of the Library’s loved ones, okay? I want you think about how sad you would be if you found out that someone had killed someone you care about. That wouldn’t be very nice, would it?”

            Grant rolled his eyes. “No, but I would argue that in this case the person I’m trying to get killed is actually a monster who kidnapped my dad and kills people all the time including children on a regular basis for failing to return library books so I’m pretty sure this is justified.”

            Henry hummed. “Alright, I hear your point, and I understand your reasoning. Even so, as a friend of your father, I would posit that maybe you should defer to your father’s wishes here and try not to murder the person he has feelings for. It could cause him some undue trauma and frankly I’m not sure your dad is in a good place to deal with any more of that.”

            “F-feelings? I don’t have f-feel- what are you talking about?!” Darryl stammered as Henry shot him a sympathetic look.

            “Darryl, while I’m sure your feelings are complicated, it’s not wrong that they exist and you know you can talk to me about them at any time!”

            Grant groaned. “Look, it’s too late! The Library’s gonna show up, he’s going to fight the grandads, and we have to GO!”

            “I thought you guys were on a time limit here?” Nick asked suddenly, “Can we get this over with?”

            Darryl nodded, shutting his eyes tight as he did so. “Yes, right, okay. We’re grabbing the kids and getting out. But Grant, I-” Darryl breathed out hard through his nose and got down on one knee in front of his son, placing his hand heavily on Grant’s shoulder and looking him in the eye. “Son, I know you’re trying to keep me safe. I know you’re trying to help everyone. You’re doing your best, and you’ve really thought of everything. I trust that you’re doing the right thing to the best of your ability. But I’m your dad, and I need you to trust me, too. You need to trust me to make my own choices. Whatever the Library’s done, it’s not up to you whether he dies. You know that right?”

            Grant stared at his dad, mouth twitching for a moment. He looked away. “Yeah, I know. Whatever. It’s done.” Darryl bit his lip, but stood again, nodding at the others.

            “Let’s get out of here,” Darryl said steadily as he marched to the kitchen door and wrenched it open, only to find the Library standing on the other side and tapping his foot.

            “Hello, Darryl,” the words rolled out of the Library’s mouth like boulders down a mountain. Darryl swallowed, mind and heart racing in a burst of adrenaline.

            “Okay, before you say anything, I just want to say I’m happy to see you and I don’t want you to die, and oh my god please don’t punish Grant I’m the adult here and I should have left you a note at least and I’m… I’m sorry?”

            The Library did not look impressed, but he did look slightly less pissed off. “Thank you, Darryl. I appreciate that sentiment, even if it is utterly meaningless when you’re clearly a moment away from wetting yourself. Is this everyone you intended to rescue?”

            “Uh, no, Henry and Ron’s kids are still in the castle somewhere and we have to get them too.”

            The Library gave a put-upon sigh, place a hand on Darryl’s chest and twisted it into his shirt. He pulled him in close to the monster’s face and pressed his lips carefully, uncertainly, to Darryl’s own. The man didn’t dare move as inch as the Library muttered against his mouth. “You’re still in trouble, but I unfortunately have business to attend to here.”

            Before Darryl could answer, the Library suddenly grabbed Darryl’s shoulders and pushed him into the room hard enough that his back smacked the kitchen island hard enough to bruise. Then the monster slammed the door shut and a bright glow enveloped the wood. Darryl ignored the pain and ran forward, only to gasp and double over as a burning sensation lanced through his body before he could even touch the door.

            “Dad!” Grant cried out in alarm as the Library’s voice came through muffled on the other side of the door.

            “You’ll be sealed inside until I open the door or die, so I’d suggest you get comfortable in there.”

            “OPEN THE DOOR!” Darryl roared as the others started up their own protests. “LIBRARY! Let me come with you! I can help! I can help you fight them!”

            “Nope!” The Library’s voice echoed and after a second Ron announced that the monster was leaving. Darryl cried out in frustration. Henry was shaking hard and had stumbled to lean against the counter next to his kneading. Nick was sitting on a wooden chair, his bangs covering his eyes.

            Grant was seething. Grant’s hands were curled hard into fists and trembling at his sides. Grant’s breath was coming out in gasps and then he was running at the door, screaming as he was thrown backwards, face reddened and peeling as though he had just suffered an instantaneous sunburn. Darryl tried to grab him but Grant managed to run at the door again, gaining a double dose before Darryl finally managed to pin him down.

            “Grant! Grant, stop it! You’re just hurting yourself!”

            “It’s fine, I don’t care, I don’t feel it!” Grant yelled as he struggled against his dad’s grip. Tears were flooding his eyes but Darryl didn’t think his son noticed. “I don’t feel anything, I just hate him! How trapped us! He had no right- You don’t deserve- HE doesn’t even… SHIT!” Grant gasped, his small hands covering his face, “Just… shit… dad please, I don’t… I want to go home, I want out…”

            Darryl nodded, holding Grant close to his chest. “I know, I know Grant, I’m sorry. I want to get out too.”

            “So you can help HIM!” Grant accused. Darryl pushed on as if he hadn’t heard.

            “But hurting yourself won’t help. We have to find another way out.”

            “Hey guys, check this out!” Paeden said loudly, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “While you all were talking about boring stuff, I was sticking my knives into everything in the room, and look!” Paeden then drove a knife between two stones next to the fridge and the whole wall shifted outward, only to hit the back of the fridge and then move back into place. “I tried to move the fridge but uh, my muscles are still kind of tired from earlier I guess.”

            Sharing a look with Henry, Darryl gently set his son aside and hurried to the fridge, pulling it out from the wall easily. Paeden used his knife to make the wall move again, and found that a whole secret stone door swung open before their eyes. Behind it stood Ron Stampler, clothes filthy, mustache straggly, eyes watery, body greasy, and a large, scabby rat chewing on the hair on top of his head.

            Ron hiccoughed and swallowed hard. “Um, hi guys. Welcome to my crib. I’d like to introduce you to a friend of mine. Say hello, Terry. Terry the rat, not Terry my son. Although, in a way, you could say Terry the rat is also my son. Anyways, my dad is teaching my son Terry how to puppet a decomposing corpse army, so we should probably go stop that, right?”

Chapter 22: Initiative

Summary:

Holy fuck this chapter got long. Holy fuck. Hot dang. Wowza. Folks run through passageways, the Library confronts Willy Stampler, and Darryl discovers the true power of Daddy Magic.

Notes:

Warning for offscreen murder

22 Initiative

            The walls of Castle Ravenloft were not made to accommodate a man the size of Darryl Wilson. They weren’t really made to accommodate Henry either, but at least he could stoop enough to avoiding hitting his head on the lower wooden beams that occasionally appeared overhead. The kids and Ron were obviously able to navigate, but at the end of the day, Darryl was simply too wide to get down certain passages, even when he pushed all the air out of the lungs, sucked in his gut, and even allowed Ron to rub him down in his trusty tub of grease.

            This was incredibly unfortunate, because the Library seemed to be taking a route that involves many narrow side hallways, presumably to avoid detection, and these seemed to have the narrowest side corridors adjacent to them. Darryl could not follow the Library, and wasn’t keen to let anyone else follow the Library without him.

Instead the group behind the wall (the Wall-Gang as Paeden helpfully dubbed them) gathered themselves in a wider gap alongside the entrance hall to make a quick action plan based on Ron’s hurried explanations of the secret passage layout.

            The plan was fairly simple. Ron would head up to the high tower alone to tell Terry Junior to make an excuse to run down to the side door and get out of the castle, heading for the gap in the barrier as quick as possible. If Terry Junior couldn’t get a moment away, Ron would send Terry the Rat back down the corridor to notify Henry, who would speak with animals and let the rest of the group know that Ron was going to have to make a more violent break for it. Ron would also send Terry the Rat if the Library broke onto the scene to attack, or if he found another exit from the wall, or really if anything helpful came up that Henry could be notified of via Rat-telegram.

            Henry would return to the kitchen with Grant to act as a home base and also to work on getting the door back open. Henry wanted to be the one to contact his own kids out of course, and Grant sure as hell didn’t want to stay behind, but seeing as the door was sealed with magic and it was the only known exit to the secret corridor labyrinth, they were the only ones who might be able to get them out of there once their messages were delivered.

            Nick would lead Paeden and Darryl to the courtyard where Lark and Sparrow were getting their ‘lessons’. Paeden would be their ‘Terry the Rat’ in that it would be his job to relay any important memos to Henry. Grant said he believed they had approximately half an hour left, so they had to move fast and hope that the Library provided enough distraction to get them out of there safely.

            Ron left first, pretty well as soon as his instructions were settled. Nick and Paeden were already in the wall tapping their feet while Darryl clapped Henry on the back and wished him luck and then gave Grant a hard look. “Grant, how much of this plan is dependent on the Library actually dying so the barrier on the kitchen door vanishes?”

            Grant took shaky breath. “I didn’t plan on him sealing us into a room, so right now, none of it. Also, seeing as my luck is absolutely shitty, I actually don’t think the Library will die in time to get us out. That’s why I’m staying behind. For the love of god, Dad, please follow the plan. Just tell Lark and Sparrow where to go and come back here.”

            “That’s the plan.”

            “If you see the Library, just let him do what he’s going to do. He should only be looking for Willy Stampler, so you shouldn’t even cross paths with him, and any I mean, if you’re worried, he might win the fight. Which is fine too, for now. Like, if he takes out Willy, that’s just means one less grandad to deal with and the Library isn’t… uh… Just, please, please come back when you’re done telling Lark and Sparrow to get out.”

            Darryl’s hard look wavered as he and Grant stared each other down. “I… I plan to, son.”

            “Promise?”

            “I promise.” Darryl made to turn, but paused. “Grant, about the Library. He didn’t-”

            “Dad, we really, honestly do not have time for this. We’ll talk later. Just go. But come back.”

            “I’ll come back.”

            “Hey Darryl?”

            “Yeah, Henry?”

            “I missed you.”

            “I missed you too, Henry.” And then Darryl walked into the wall and out of sight.

            Henry sighed and turned to Grant with a sympathetic smile. “Hey Grant, looks like we’re going to be at this a while, so if you want to talk to anyone about what you’re going through, you feel more than free to talk to your old pal Henry, alright?”

            Grant stared at Henry silently for a long moment, pulled a magic book out of his bag, and then turned to the door. “Thanks, but no. Let’s just get to work.”

*

            “So uh, we almost there, Nick?”

            “Uh huh. Well, I think so?”

            “You think so?”

            Nick huffed, but it was hard to see more than Nick’s barest outline in the dark ahead of Darryl. He was holding Paeden’s hand behind him, but Nick had refused to be touched and Darryl wasn’t finding him very cooperative. “It’s not like I’ve had to get there inside the walls before, you nark! You try finding your way in the dark with just these little spy holes things to check where you are!”

            “Okay, first of all, I’m not a nark, that’s not an appropriate way to talk to your elders. Second of all, I’m sorry, you’re right, it’s just we don’t have much time to start with and if it takes-”

            “Shh! Did you hear that?” Nick hissed.

            “Hear what?” Paeden asked loudly. Darryl turned and fumbled to slap a hand over the eight year old’s mouth. The three fell silent and listened. There were muffled voices coming through the wall, and then some distinct zapping following by a cry of pain. Darryl’s heart sank in his chest, terrified that the Library might have gotten there first. He hoped the monster would at least try to make sure the other kids didn’t get hurt. Surely he would know Darryl would want them in one piece, right?

            “Shit,” Nick swore and Darryl felt the kid smack his arm. “There’s a spy hole in the wall but I can’t reach, lift me up!”

            Darryl nodded, though the gesture was lost in the dark, and wasted no time in grabbing Nick under the armpits and lifting him up to the tiny hole in the wall.

            “Wrong way around you fucking… I can’t see out the back of my head!”

            “Oh, whoops,” Darryl turned him around and they were quiet again as Nick looked out the hole. “What’s going on out there?” Darryl asked after a moment.

            “I don’t… know? It’s the courtyard, and there’s Bear and Lark and Sparrow, but it looks like they’re just doing yoga or something? I don’t know what the screaming was from, cause- oh, lol, Lark fell over. Guess that- NO!” Nick shouted loudly, but Darryl didn’t need to silence him as the sound was covered by Sparrow’s distinctive screaming. Darryl pulled Nick back and set him down, standing on tip toes to look out the hole himself.

            The sight was sickening. Bear Ry’Oak was holding Lark by the upper arm, speaking to him in a low voice while the boy only stared at Sparrow in horror. Sparrow was on the ground, twisting his body into unnatural positions and screaming endlessly as dark purple orbs of light hovered over his wrists, knees, and neck.

            “What the fuck is he doing?!” Darryl yelped.

            “That’s what Bear does, he says he ‘doesn’t get his hands dirty’ like Willy, so he uses those orb things when we do stuff he doesn’t like. But Sparrow wasn’t the one who f-fell.” Nick’s voice was shaking.

            “He’s using their love for each other to control them? That’s just… that’s…” Darryl hadn’t been properly angry in a while. He probably should have been angry at the Library a few times, but he never seemed to quite reach that stage with him. He’d been annoyed, and afraid, and upset with the Library, maybe bordering on anger here and there, and frustrated with his son, but anger hadn’t really reached him these last many weeks. But seeing this asshole who wore a face so similar to Henry’s, who let his own son live in his house as a beaten slave, torturing one of his grandsons because the other one couldn’t hold a fucking yoga pose long enough?

            Deep in Darryl’s stomach, a pit of fire opened up. It bubbled up into his chest, into his limbs, his eyes sparking with righteous fury.

            “Darryl?” Nick’s voice sounded muffled behind the blood rushing in Darryl’s ears. “Shit, cool it! What about the plan? It’s not permanent damage, it’s just pain, it’s just in his head so it won’t- fuck!” Darryl let out a roar of rage.

            “LEAVE THAT KID ALONE!” Darryl shouted with every fiber of his being as he reared back and then head-butted the wall in front of him with all his strength.

            There was silence. Even Sparrow’s cries had stopped. Darryl’s head spun as he slumped against the opposite side of the narrow corridor from the wall he just hit.

            Finally, Bear Ry’Oak’s voice echoed from the courtyard. “Hello?”

            There was a sharp cracking sound. Paeden stiffened abruptly. “We gotta move. We gotta move NOW!” Paeden’s small hands pressed into Darryl’s side and pushed with all his eight year old might. Half-consciously, Darryl followed the direction and stumbled down the corridor, knocking into Nick and pushing the swearing boy along with them as more pops and cracks echoed around them from the wall. There was a rumble, and then there were visible, lit cracks in the stonework as the entire courtyard-facing side of the corridor collapsed in a cloud of debris, the three party members in the wall only just making it out of sight of the new hole by the time the dust cleared.

            “Woah,” said Lark or Sparrow, Darryl wasn’t sure which.

            “Hmm, yes, I see.” Bear Ry’Oak’s irritating voice was much clearer now. “Hen? Is that you? Has my overly curious son managed to find yet another secret that managed to elude me? I see you have let your emotions take control of you again, and I hope you’ve seen how short-sighted that is!”

            The airy, dismissive tone of Henry’s father sparked Darryl’s ire yet again. The dad drew himself up, his head pounding but he knew one thing for sure, he was going to fuck that man up.

            Darryl took two steps toward the hole before pausing briefly and glancing back at the two boys behind him. “Uh, you guys are just going to let me do this?”

            “Man, I don’t think you’ll win, but I’m not gonna hold you back from a fight,” Paeden shrugged.

            “Even if you punch that piece of shit one time, this will be the best day I’ve had since I got here,” Nick said with a shrug. Darryl nodded.

            “Thanks for the confidence, boys!” Darryl grinned and took off at a run out of the hole and across the courtyard. Bear Ry’Oak was surprised enough to  see someone other than his own son barrelling towards him that Lark was able to pull himself free and kick Bear in the shin before running to his brother, distracting Bear so that Darryl gained advantage and, before Henry’s father could launch a spell, he managed to get in one absolutely liver-pulverizing punch straight into the asshole’s rippling spandexed gut.

            The hysterical cheers of four boys brought a smile to Darryl’s face, even as Bear threw a hand toward Darryl’s chest and the dad experienced so much pain at once he felt certain in that moment that he was about to die.

            At blackness edged his vision, he remembered the Library’s threat of what would happen to Grant if Darryl ended up dead.

            He had trusted Grant’s judgement in this and Grant had gotten them into the castle as he promised. Grant had trusted Darryl to follow the plan and would come back safe. Darryl would not break that promise. His son believed in him, he knew he did, and Darryl wouldn’t let that trust go to waste. Not the least of which because he sensed deep in his gut that if Darryl died here, it wouldn’t matter if the Library left Grant alone, the son he knew really would be gone forever.

            In a wild instant in the midst of his pain he was overcome with a deep seated need to live, to live for his son, and he let out another roar. His entire body felt like it was on fire. It consumed, it overshadowed the pain in Darryl’s chest. He didn’t register what was in front of him, though if he had, he would’ve seen Bear Ry’Oak, shrinking back in confusion with traces of fear in his eyes. His hands were up in a placating gesture, but Darryl wasn’t hearing him, couldn’t hear him. He took a step forward.

            “YO, NARK! DARRYL! SOMETHING’S WRONG WITH PAEDEN! Fucking- MISTER WILSON, PLEASE!”

            That startled him. Nick called him by his last name? The fire faded, Darryl stumbled forward and saw that Bear Ry’Oak had backed off considerably. Darryl looked down at his hands. They were yellow- no, they were glowing? But the glow was fading. Was this another Faerun weird magic thing? God he was so tired of this. What had Nick said? He’d called him Mr. Wilson, which was weird…

             “HEY, NARK! PAEDEN COLLAPSED YOU FUCK!”

             “Darryl, are you okay?” That was one of the twins, Darryl didn’t know which. He turned slowly and sure enough, by the hole in the wall Nick was kneeling on the ground with Paeden on his lap, and he looked supremely freaked out.

             “Paeden,” Darryl breathed, taking a step toward the boy as his legs shook under him. “What happened?”

             “I don’t know!” Nick said quickly, “Bear hit you with his pain sphere, then Paeden shouted ‘TRUST’ at the top of his lungs and you lit up like a goddamn candle and he passed out! It was fucking weird, I don’t know what’s happening, stop fucking glowing!”

              Darryl glanced back over his shoulder at Bear, who was now looking past Darryl and to Paeden’s unconscious body. After a moment, a tiny smile curled the corner of the grandad’s mouth.

             “Oh, interesting. Very interesting. Hm, yes, so Mr. Stampler was right about him after all…”

             “What the hell are you talking about?” Darryl snapped, his skin flaring again, though bit weaker this time.

             “Well, since I doubt you’ll simply leave and allow me to continue my duty of raising my grandsons as my own, I suppose I’m going to have to fight you. I would have hoped I could have unlocked my own potential for Daddy Magic by now, but let’s see. The Catalyst is trapped and unconscious, you don’t even have your own son with you and well, you clearly don’t even know what’s just happened to you, do you?” Bear chuckled. Darryl hated that sound.

             “That doesn’t explain anything, you know!”

             “Oh, yes, well,” Bear rolled his head on his neck and stretched his arms out behind him, arching backward. “I would say I still have more than enough magic and skill to get rid of you. Honestly, it’s for the best. You’ve been nothing but a negative influence on my boy after all.”

             Then Bear turned into a giant bullywog.

             Darryl looked around at the four boys, one unconscious, gathered around him.

             “PICK UP PAEDEN AND RUN!” Darryl yelled as the bullywog’s tongue launched itself toward himk, and Darryl somehow caught it in his bare hands just as they lit up in a blaze of fire again.

             “He’s too heavy, we can’t-“

             Another glance backward showed the boys struggling to pick up Paeden between them all. Were they always this small? Darryl winced as the bullywog’s tongue retracted from his hands. “Alright, fine. I’ll get Paeden. Just go, GO!”

             Darryl turned and ran toward the fleeing boys, dodging another launch of that sticky wet tongue and snatching up Paeden, throwing his limp body over his shoulder on the way back into the narrow corridors that laced through the walls. The first thing he noticed was that his new glowing body made it much easier to move quickly down the passage as it lit the way.

             The second thing he noticed was that this was literally the only positive in this situation. The passage was still tight, and now Darryl had to move very quickly down it, trying desperately to keep the three kids ahead of him in view while being careful not to bash Paeden’s small head off the walls.

             On top of that, as soon as the boys and Darryl had gotten into the wall, the bullywog’s tongue had flown out and smashed into the wall just behind them, knocking down more stones and debris until they were able to scramble into a gap between the interior walls.

             Then Bear Ry’Oak changed form again, this time taking on the shape of a bright-eyed, screaming orangutan, mouth wide and hollering as it swung from beams in the wall and leapt toward the escaping humans nimbly enough to be utterly terrifying. This was made worse by the fact that Darryl always felt vaguely unsettled by monkeys and apes. This experience was only going to solidify that into a full-fledged phobia.

             The ape was catching up by the time Paeden started coming to, wriggling in Darryl’s arms. Darryl swore as he realised that as Paeden woke, his brightly glowing skin faded into only the softest glimmer, just enough to glint off the orangutan’s shining fangs as it screeched.

             “Woah, urgh, my head… so tired… AH! Is that- what is that? Is that’s a monkey? Darryl what’s going on, my man?!”

             “Sorry buddy, no time to talk! Just cover your head and hang on tight!” Darryl said to Paeden and then raised his voice, “He’s catching up!”

             “SCATTER!” Nick screamed, dodging down a side corridor. The twins turned down a different one as Darryl kept running forward under too much momentum.

             “NO!” Darryl yelled even as he kept running, no idea what to do. Paeden said the orangutan was still following them, but the boys could get lost in the walls, and Darryl had to protect Paeden, and he didn’t even know where he was!

             After a few minutes of dodging down side corridors and running blind, feeling along the walls and praying he wouldn’t run somewhere too narrow to pass through, Darryl realised the screeching had faded and vanished. He slowed, slightly, “Paeden, is he still back there?”

             “I don’t know, I’m covering my head!”

             “Well, check!”

             “Okay, okay… uh, nope, he’s gone!”

             “Shit, he probably went after the other kids! I-I guess he won’t hurt- well, won’t kill them though, urgh. Uh, I’m gonna put you down.”

             “Woah, uh, thanks Darryl. So what now?”

             “I-I don’t really know, I gotta think.” Darryl tried to walk further down the corridor and hit a wall. “Oh, that’s great, a dead end! Fuck, we’re so… this is bad. I don’t know what to do, or what’s going on!”

             “Hey man, it’s okay? I never know what’s going on, and it all seems to work out okay for Paeden!”

             “That’s great buddy, but I’m just…” suddenly Darryl sagged against the wall, heart pounding as the last of the glow faded from his skin and now his lungs were burning in a much more familiar way. “I-I need to rest a second. God, we’re probably way over an hour now, aren’t we?”

             “Probably, yeah.”

             “Fuck.”

             “Tell you what. You rest, and let ol’ Paeden start hitting the wall with his trusty knife. Maybe I’ll find another secret door!”

             “Worth a shot, I guess.”

             There was a pause. “You’re not going to take my knife?”

              “Not right now.”

              “Oh shit, things are really serious, huh? Don’t worry, Paeden’s got this.” There was a series of scraping and tapping sounds as Paeden explored the wall and Darryl closed his eyes, which made exactly no difference in the dark.

              As Darryl listened to the plinking sound of metal on stone and caught his breath, the events of the last minutes seemed to catch up with him. “Paeden, uh, any idea why you passed out back there, bud?” 

              The plinking sound stopped for a second before starting up again. “Um, not really? I saw you run at Henry’s dad, and then punch him which was pretty tight. And then he hit you and it looked like it hurt but it was still really cool and then…” There was a scrape and another pause. “I dunno, I felt really weird suddenly? Like uh, like I could feel… something. Like I was… proud of you? I mean, I’m always proud of you, but I was really… it was like you did something really good but I’m not sure… what it was…” There was a tiny grunt. “Then everything got really dizzy and colourful and I woke up being chased by a screaming monkey.”

              “Well that’s pretty weird,” Darryl said once it was clear Paeden had nothing else to say. “I mean I definitely unlocked some kind of power-up thing back there, maybe you could sense it or something?”

              “Yeah, maybe?”

              “Still weird though.”

              “Uh huh. Uh… I think… oh HELL yeah!” There was the scrape of metal again, though this time it was accompanied by a low rumble and Darryl straightened as the wall in front of the pair moved and jittered outward, sliding aside to reveal… the inside of a small room with a couple of crates in the corner and a large wooden door.

              When Darryl eased the door open and found a regular candle-lit hallway beyond, he wondered if maybe, somehow, Paeden had managed to find the very closet by which Ron had gotten inside the walls in the first place. It was possible. But ultimately it didn’t really matter. Bear Ry’Oak knew about the passages, the Library was out for blood, the hole in the barrier would be closed up by now, and their entire party was scattered around the castle.

              This was bad. This was really bad. They had to find everybody. Darryl grabbed Paeden and hauled him up onto his shoulder.

             “Woah, what’s up big guy?”

             “Not letting you get lost too, little man. And I need someone to watch my back.”

             “You got it!” Paeden patted Darryl’s back as the barbarian took off jogging down the hall, praying to God for a miracle.

*

            When the Library had a book overdue, it was not so much that he could sense where it was. If that were the case it would certainly make his job easier, but as it stood, all he could say was that he remembered loaning a book to Willy Stampler, and he knew that Willy Stampler was in this building and had not returned his book on time. That was enough to call for a late fee collection at the least. If he did not return the book at all, the Library was bound by the workings of the universe to kill him or die trying. Which was exactly what Grant Wilson was counting on, the little devil that he was.

            Such a shame, really. The Library saw so much potential in Grant, and yet he was determined to only see the Library as an enemy. Maybe if they all survived this mess the monster would try to get Darryl to speak more highly of him to his son. His pet’s reluctance to admit his own feelings on the matter had clearly passed into the realm of being detrimental.

            Anyway, it wasn’t something to waste time thinking on for the moment. For the moment, the Library had to find Willy Stampler and finish his pet’s questline for him. As much as he’d wanted to avoid this for all the risk it involved, surely after it was over there would be no more reason deny the Library his happily ever after, right? If he lived that was. The Library really hoped he lived through this. His last kiss with Darryl was nice, but it didn’t come close to covering the full scope of the reunion he’d hoped for.

            The Library wandered around the castle blindly for a while before opening the door to a room full of books with an older man sporting long thick, grey hair sitting on a chair, staring blankly forward. It was not Willy Stampler. The Library squinted at the man for a long moment before determining that this was the source of the barrier surrounding the castle, and that he also was so drained physically from maintaining it that he likely couldn’t move. In fact, he suspected the long grey hair was a result of the barrier causing him to age more rapidly as well.

            “Um, hello?” The Library tried as he entered the room and waved a few limbs in front of the man’s face. He grunted, but didn’t move. “Um, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a copy of Magical Barrier and You, would you? I couldn’t help but notice you’re rather tied to the barrier currently encircling this very castle! One described in chapter, oh, I believe fifteen of that very book?”

            Another grunt. The man’s eyes slowly worked their way up to look at the Library. The figure trembled but remained still. The Library hissed.

            “Oh wow, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised he used this version of the spell, but I would’ve assumed he’d tie Henry to it, or one of the children. It would’ve meant he wouldn’t lose one of his lieutenants, and would have the benefit of making the others more reluctant to kill the maintainer of the barrier if it were one of their own. Why tie your entire energy supply to the barrier when no one would care if you died horribly? You must’ve made him awfully angry, or else he considers you less important to his cause than any of his surplus of children.”

            There was a low wheeze, it almost sounded like the edge of a laugh. Strange man. The Library shrugged. “Well lucky for you, I need to get that barrier down, so I’ll be putting you out of your misery. You’ve already been dead once, right? You’ll be better off staying that way this time.”

            Bill Close closed his eyes, his head slumping forward so his chin rested on his chest. A low snore signalled that he had used up what little energy he had left at his control. What a pitiful man.

            The Library unhinged his jaw.

*

            Grant screamed and threw the magic book at the door. It bounced off and landed on the floor. He tried to retrieve it and was zapped by the door again before he could reach it. Henry gasped and fretted and grabbed a broom to knock the book out of the force field so he could get it, but Grant was already on his feet again, pacing as his face peeled and reddened more and more.

            “Just, hold on a second young man! Let me heal that real quick so-”

            “Don’t waste spell slots, I’ll fix it later, it’s just pain,” Grant muttered as he continued to pace. “This is stupid. We can’t just stay in here. The barrier outside would have sealed itself again. If we go through the walls again, maybe we can just blast one open. They’re pretty thick but-”

            “Now hold on just a ding dang minute! We can’t just go wandering off, we told the others we’d stay here! If they come back and we’re gone, they’ll waste time looking for us instead of getting out themselves!”

            “Staying here just makes us sitting ducks! I don’t… I thought we could break it. I know the Library’s powerful, but I thought we might be able to get through or at least make a dent but now we’ve just separated everyone again and I… I screwed up,” Grant gasped and clutched at his chest. Suddenly all the pain hit him at once, his skin stung so bad, he slumped against the table and could only struggle weakly as Henry hurried to his side and started healing the worst of the burns.

            “Oh, you didn’t screw up. Darryl said you’re the reason you all got this far! That’s really impressive, you have nothing to be upset about.”

            Grant gave Henry a scathing look, and the granola dad amended himself. “Alright, so there’s a few things to be upset about. But hurting yourself and getting mad at yourself, well, it’s just not going to help you in the long run, you know? You did your best, and we threw a lot at that barrier before we decided it wasn’t coming down, and you know what? I think you’re right that we can’t stay here. But we need to calm down and think it through. We should at least leave a message saying where we went, right?”

            It took closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, but Grant managed to slow himself down enough to think about what Henry was saying. “Yeah. You’re right. We’ll leave a note.”

            “Alright.” Henry breathed a sigh of relief, and Grant took a moment to enjoy his cool, healed skin while the man went to one of the counter drawers, presumably to look for something to leave a note with. Grant wouldn’t admit it, but after slinging only a handful of spells at the door only to have them all fail, he was feeling pretty tired. He wished his dad would just come back already.

            “I just… I don’t know why I thought I could do this,” Grant mumbled as Henry shuffled around. The old hippie paused and looked up at him, expectant. Grant flushed and ducked his head. “I just… I don’t know. I planned this out, I thought… I thought if I could just get here and got the Library here, they would just fight each other while we escaped and it would just work out, and I didn’t plan anything else cause I didn’t think the Library would find us so fast, or that… I… I don’t know. I don’t know. I told my dad I’d handle this so he wouldn’t have to deal with it on his own, and I messed up, and-” Grant’s voice choked off as Henry suddenly hugged him. He was so tired, he didn’t even have it in him to push him away. His eyes closed and he realised suddenly that they were wet. When had that happened?

            “Your feelings are valid, Grant,” Henry said quickly, and Grant snorted. “Listen, I know things are looking bad, but you’re just a kid. No one should expect you to be able to handle everything. That’s why you have a dad to help you out.”

            “But he can’t deal with it alone,” Grant grumbled, “He can’t. He’s trying so hard, I want to help. I just… I wanted to help.”

            “You can help him. But you don’t have to help him by taking care of everything for him. You need to trust him and be honest with him, and I know that won’t always be an easy thing to do, and I know especially right now you’ve got to take on a lot of responsibility, and oh gosh there’s a lot of messed up stuff going on. I know I’ve been through a lot. And the boys. And sometimes I feel like I failed them too, you know?” Henry’s arms were tighter around Grant now. “I mean, I thought I could save them, and I got captured. And now all I’ve been able to do is make sure they’re eating okay but… but even just being here for them, I think that’s helping. At least, I have to believe it is. So just… try to be there for your dad. If you can’t solve all his problems, well you know, that’s just how life is sometimes, but you didn’t mess up. You did the best you could, and I know Darryl’s proud of you.”

            “Yeah, okay,” Grant finally pushed Henry away, and he went willingly enough. “I know he’s proud… I know… there’s just a lot going on. We gotta go. We gotta start looking for another way out.”

            “You got it, I’ll just, uh, carve a note into the counter with a knife I guess.” Henry turned just in time to see movement from the wall. “Oh, someone’s back!” Grant looked past Henry to see a short figure moving out of the gap. His first thought was Paeden, but that lasted only a second before he realised the figure was far too hairy to be a child.

            “Uh, is that an orangutan?” Grant asked flatly. The ape’s mouth widened into a grin and then began to jerk as its torso lengthened and the fur began to retract into its body. Grant saw the look of terror on Henry’s face as he looked into the eyes of Bear Ry’Oak smiling at them, and a chill raced down his spine.

*

            Nick Close never thought he was claustrophobic before, but he thought he might be now. The screeching behind him had faded out pretty fast after he ditched the other guys, which made sense since none of the grandads seemed to care much about him at all. But now it was dark, and the walls were close on either side of him. Wherever he was, he knew that Darryl wouldn’t be able to fit down this corridor, and there hadn’t been any sign of a spy hole for the last while.

            He really, really wished he had a joint to light up, if only to settle his nerves. He wasn’t far from hyperventilating at this point. It was so quiet, so dark, it reminded him of a really bad trip. Like he’d lost all this senses, and there was no one there for him. He was alone, and it was his fault and-

            No, no, he had to get a grip. It was fine, he was cool. He could just turn around, retrace his steps. He could at least get back to the courtyard and out the giant hole in the wall there, right? Right. He started edging back down the corridor the way he had come, but soon found himself faced with multiple paths and he couldn’t remember which he had come down to get where he was. He thought he saw a little light down one of them, so he followed it, only to find another spyhole that looked out into a room of the castle he’d never been in. That was unhelpful. But it was at least good to know that a world still existed outside the wall he was stuck in.

            This was awful. Nick wished he had just followed Lark and Sparrow. They had enough chaotic energy to break down a wall with their bare hands. Darryl obviously had the power to do that too. Why hadn’t Nick bothered to learn any magic since he got to this stupid world? Terry Junior knew necromancy now, Grant could do magic, the twins were just smart and rowdy but they got stuff done. What had Nick learned? How to push drug flowers? How did would that help him now? It made his dad proud of him, but obviously that didn’t last long since his dad couldn’t even be bothered to make a second shot at getting him out of this place, where he was trapped with more people who thought he was just a waste of space.

            Nick pressed his head harder against the stone and wondered if anyone would even notice if he got lost in the fucking wall forever. Stupid.

            He started walking again. It was the only thing he could think of doing. The echo of his footsteps was less distressing that hearing his own breath. As more and more minutes passed, Nick’s heart rate picked up more and his breathing came faster again. He was stuck. He was alone and trapped in this dark place, and no one was coming for him, no one cared he was there. He’d been left behind by everyone. No, he’d run from everyone. He ran away and no one followed, and why would they?

            Nick bolted around a tight corner and screamed when he ran directly into a person not much taller than he was. He scuttled backwards, and only steadied himself when he recognised that weird umming and aahing that followed.

            “Oh, um, hi Nick. I assume you’re Nick, because there’s not two of you and you haven’t stabbed me yet so you’re not Paeden. What are you doing alone in the wall? Trying out the wall-life? Yeah, it’s pretty nice in here. How are you?”

            Nick was sure he had absolutely never been so happy to hear Ron Stampler’s voice. “Uh, nothing. Trying to get out, I guess. There’s a hole in the wall in the courtyard now.”

            “Oh, there is? I thought it felt strangely drafty in here. Well, let’s head over there then. I sent Terry the Rat ahead to warn Henry that my dad knows everyone’s here, but he hasn’t come back yet so I’m looking for him. You haven’t seen him come this way recently, have you? He looks like a rat.”

            “No, I can’t see anything. It’s pitch black in here.”

            “Oh.” There was a long silence. “Oh, by the way, when I was checking on Bill Close just now, it turns out he’s dead I think? And also kind of dusty and skeleton-y? I’m sorry for your loss.”

            Nick snorted, completely beyond the ability to process that information given to him in the dark by Ron Stampler in that kind of tone. “It’s fine, it’s not like I knew the guy.”

            “Oh, that’s okay then. He didn’t do much anyway from what I saw. Anyways, let’s go to the courtyard now.”

            “Yes, god, thank you.” Nick was getting out of this wall and out of this castle and honestly he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to live somewhere with walls again. Maybe he could just live out in the woods. He might have to if he never finds his dad again.

*

            Darryl and Paeden did not find any of the others, but they did find the front entrance again and opened the front door to view the reconstructed land bridge that lay beyond it. Darryl picked out the clump of trees next to where Grant’s hole in the barrier was supposed to be, but he was pretty sure it would have been long closed by now. It was too bad the barrier was invisible, or else he might be able to see a hole at this distance. As it was, Darryl felt torn.

            Grant was still in the castle. No way could he just leave. On the other hand, Paeden was clearly in danger, especially if he passed out again, and he wasn’t going to be able to fight as well holding onto the kid. He also couldn’t just-

            “Stop.”

            The voice came from behind him. Suddenly Darryl’s feet felt rooted to the floor and he shivered as a wet spot formed on the front of Darryl’s shirt. Paeden was pissing himself. Darryl put the boy down in a hurry, wrenching his head to the side to look over his shoulder, across the atrium as Willy Stampler approached them at a leisurely pace.

             “You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, could you?” Willy shook his head, his tone mocking. He was even smiling. Darryl hated it. “You had your own son back, and I didn’t need you anymore. You could have just found a portal back to Earth and left. So really, you just did this to yourself.”

            Willy Stampler raised his hand toward Darryl’s back and paused. “It’s a shame, though. Of the four of you idiots, I actually think you had the most potential to figure out how to be an effective father. At least you knew the value of a good slab of meat and football. Too bad you let your wife walk all over you and end up feminizing your boy. But I’ll admit, I disagreed with what Bear said when we took your son, it looks like a good trauma was just what he needed! A lot more vicious now, huh? With the right guidance, I bet I can turn him and Terry into half-decent apprentices.”

            “You leave Grant alone! He needs therapy, not… whatever the hell you’re planning to do to him. Make him reanimate corpses or whatever Ron said.”

            Willy rolled his eyes. “Ron saw that, too? For fuck’s sake, what the hell made you dumbasses think you had the right to storm the place again? I should have fucking known not to trust anything your creepy boyfriend gave me, stupid faulty barrier…”

            “Darryl, run! We gotta go!” Paeden gasped as he pulled on Darryl’s arm.

            Darryl lowered his voice. “I can’t, I’m sorry bud, he’s got my feet frozen with magic.”

            Willy raised his hand again. “Well, I guess I’ll just finish you off here so I can deal with the rest of the pests. And again, really, this is your own fault. You should’ve left while you had the chance.”

            Purple light gathered around Willy’s hand and Darryl struggled against the magic holding him still to no avail. He tried pushing Paeden away from him, but the boy only clung to his arm, trying desperately to pull him forward.

            “YOU LEAVE MY DAD ALONE!”

            A bolt of magic missile launched itself from behind Willy Stampler, hitting him squarely in the back and knocking him forward, his purple aura fizzling out as Henry and Grant, battered but present, appeared in the doorway across the room. Darryl realised with a start that he could move his feet again and turned around. Apparently that spell required concentration, and Grant just broke Willy’s.

             “You guys got past the barrier? That’s great! I’m so proud of you, Grant!” Darryl called across the room. Grant shrugged and grimaced.

            “Uh, no, not really. We went out through the wall and found an opening in the courtyard, found our way back.”

            “Yeah, uh, also my dad’s passed out in the kitchen. But that was thanks to Grant, though!” Henry grinned and slapped Grant heartily on the shoulder. “He convinced my dad that Grant was the one to put the barrier on the door and taunted him that he couldn’t break it, and I agreed that if he succeeded in breaking it that I’d agree to uh, well, to l-let him possess my body um… yeah I didn’t want to do that, but Grant felt pretty confident that Bear would underestimate the power of the barrier if he thought Grant did it, and he was right! He tried to get close to inspect it, and Grant hit him with magic missile from behind to knock him really close to it and uh, there was some kind of explosion and I am pretty sure he’s alive? Um, I didn’t check, but uh, pretty sure… don’t really want to consider the idea that he might not be, but um, yeah! So we got out through the walls, and now we’re here!”

            “Great, so glad to hear my general was so fucking ineffective!” Willy Stampler snapped from his place in the center of the room.

            Darryl grinned and punched one meaty fist into his other hand. “Give it up Willy, we’ve got you surrounded now! Tell us where the other kids are, and maybe we won’t bruise you up too bad.”

            Willy snorted and rolled his eyes. “Oh you absolute morons. You dumb, dumb idiots. You don’t understand, do you? I don’t need the other fathers to beat the shit out of a bunch of whiney, self-entitled children. They’re accessories at best. Disposable. I can bring them back as many times as I need to in order to get what I want. You think you’ve surrounded me? Guess again!” Then Willy called them a slur and vanished in a flash of purple light.

            Henry and Grant stared back at Darryl and Paeden across the forum for a moment.

            “Uh, so he ran away?” Darryl asked in disbelief.

            “You stupid brats are gonna wish I did!” Willy Stampler’s voice echoed around the atrium, and then there was a rumbling sound from the walls. From the floor.

            “Get over here! Get over here, Grant! Henry!” Darryl yelled, grabbing Paeden’s hand and running toward Grant and Henry as they ran back toward them as well. They only just managed to meet each other in the middle of the room when the walls around them began to open, and from them began to march dozens upon dozens of skeletons in full armour, their bones rattling as they surrounded Darryl and the others and took up battle stances.

            “What the fuck!” Henry gasped, “But, we were just in the walls! Where did all those skeletons come from? Oh man, were those there in the dark this whole time and we just didn’t see them? That’s awful! Wait, but this means… this means… hey! Mister Stampler, did you know about the secret wall passages this whole time? And if so, how did you not know that Ron was in them?”

            The skeletons milled about the edges of the room while Willy Stampler let out a long-winded sigh. “Obviously the skeletons were in the walls the whole time. They were sealed into the walls by the vampire who used to own this castle as sacrifices to maintain the structural integrity of the building and to serve as a defence system, much as I’m using it now. And I didn’t think there was a way to get into the walls without activating the skeleton army through necromancy so no, it didn’t occur to me to check inside the walls for Ron. Especially since effectively staying out of sight and out of the way might be the most competent thing that moron has ever done in his life, so you’ll forgive me if I didn’t exactly anticipate it.”

            “Hey! Don’t talk about Ron like that! He’s ten times the father you ever were to him, probably!” Darryl snapped, shaking a fist at the ceiling which is where he presumed the voice was coming from.

            “Yeah, I don’t think so. Now shut the fuck up. This is what’s going to happen. Obviously you’re super outnumbered, and honestly? I don’t actually need any of you. Darryl, you and your son are just part of a backup plan that, frankly, I don’t need because I still have control over the important kids. Paeden’s already proven himself incapable of performing the one job he was created for, so he’s clearly worthless. And Henry, I can find a slave anywhere in this world. They’re not even that expensive. So honestly, I could just kill you all right now. But I’m going to offer you a choice. You can stay here, allow Grant to be trained and parented by me, knowing that he will grow up under the guidance of someone who knows how to raise a kid. Allow-”

            “EXCUSE ME! I’ve been in this castle for weeks now, and let me tell you sir that you have absolutely no idea how to raise a child!” Henry shouted, his skin turning green and his eyes starting to flash. “You have ME here because you can’t be bothered to feed, or clothe, or take care of any of these kids properly! All I’ve seen you do to these kids is yell at them, and hurt them when they don’t immediately do what you say! That’s not parenting, that’s just being a giant effing bully! You’re the one that doesn’t deserve a son, especially not one as sweet and special as Ron!”

            “God, you idiots just don’t get it at all. Fine, I guess you’ll just be part of my skeleton army then, whatever.”

            Darryl grabbed Grant and tried to put his body between his son and the advancing skeletons, but they were coming from all sides, he couldn’t protect him from them all.

            “Darryl,” Henry said quietly, grabbing Darryl’s hand and giving him a meaningful look. “It’s okay. We’re all going to do our best, alright?”

            “Right,” Darryl muttered, putting up his fists. Henry and Grant’s hands began to glow with readied magic. Paeden pulled out a pair of knives, swallowing hard as he did so.

            “Okay. Darryl, you get the ones on the far right. Henry, the ones on the far left. I’ll do the ones on the center right, Grant, center left. Got it?” Paeden said as the skeletons closed in. Henry let out a stream of acid and knocked a few backwards, but it didn’t do much to slow them. The numbers alone were terrifying.

            Henry’s eyes glowed green as he cast a spell called Erupting Earth, churning the floor and a hill of dirt and rock erupted from the floor, knocking a good dozen skeletons aside and many fell apart. Unfortunately, before their eyes the skeletons were rebuilding themselves and continuing their approach.

            Grant sent more magic missiles, and thought they managed to vaporize a few skeletons here and there, there always seemed to be two or three more to take their place.

            Darryl punched his way through a few skeletons, but soon had to divert course as Paeden failed to do more than nick a few bones with his knife before one grabbed him by the neck and started strangling and Darryl had to pull it off the boy and yank him backwards as the four were forced closer together by the oncoming army.

            “Dad? I-If we don’t make it out of this…”

            Darryl knew things were grim, but he wouldn’t back down for a second. “Grant, I know we’ll make it out of this. I trust you, son, I just need you to trust me, too.”

            Grant swallowed hard. Darryl saw tears in his eyes. Darryl took his son’s hand and squeezed it. Grant squeezed back. “I-I trust you too, dad.”

            There was a pause, and then Paeden’s eyes and mouth flew wide open. Light poured from both as his voice echoed around him with angelic reverb. “ULTIMATE DADDY MAGIC ELEMENT UNLOCKED: FIRES OF MUTUAL TRUST ACTIVATE!”

            “… are you fucking kidding me right now. ”

            Darryl lit up like a goddamn torch of yellow flame. Energy pumped through his every muscle as he turned to the skeletons and took out six of them in a single blow, their bones turning to dust under his mighty swing.

            “OOOOH BABY!” Darryl laughed, his voice hearty and echoing. “GRANT, YOU JUST KEEP TRUSTING IN ME, YOU GOT IT BUDDY? WATCH YOUR OLD MAN WORK!”

            “Holy shit,” Grant whispered as Darryl laid into the skeleton army while Willy Stampler let loose a string of swears overhead. Paeden was lying unconscious on the ground. Henry put a hand on Grant’s shoulder while Darryl beat the shit out of a skeleton army single handed.

            “Uh, do you think that’s what Daddy Magic is?” Henry asked, a nervous edge in his voice.

            “I have the coolest dad ever,” Grant whispered, eyes wide and reflecting the flames coming off Darryl’s body.

            “God do I really have to come back down there and- no I should probably go make sure those other brats are locked down if Bear fucked up enough to… fine, FINE! I’ll be right back morons, have fun tiring yourself out I guess, there’s always more corpses.”

            “Well that’s ominous,” Henry muttered as Darryl ripped a skull off a body and threw it in the air like a football for Grant to magic missile into a million pieces. Henry sighed. At the very least, it was nice to see some wholesome father-son bonding going on.

*

            The Library had started thinking that maybe he should have studied the layout of Ravenloft a little harder. He’d thought he’d memorized it, but he must have taken a wrong turn regardless because he was fairly certain he’d gone in a circle and he hadn’t found a single hide nor hair of a person since he’d killed Bill Close, whom he didn’t eat only because he didn’t know what holding that much barrier magic over however long he’d been trapped in that chair would do to his digestibility special relativity, and the Library didn’t want to risk indigestion slowing him down.

            At least as he combed the castle for Willy Stampler and the other children, he felt confident in the strength of his own barrier that he’d placed over the kitchen door. Ain’t no way those boys were getting through that. It was tied to the Library’s own energy source, which was concentrated over a much smaller space than the barrier outside the castle. Using the method Grant had to make a hole in the barrier outside, it would take a human mage a good couple of days to get through it by the monster’s estimation. The boys would be safe and secured, if a little pissed off. Darryl would be safe, most importantly.

            He was such a delicate creature, really. So many needs to take care of. So emotionally repressed. A delightful, delicious little creature in need of protection from himself and the world. He was honestly very lucky the Library was there for him and willing to forgive him as much as he was. One day, surely, he would realise that.

            Until then, the Library had to focus on the task at hand. That being getting his wayward library book back. That was really non-negotiable, his body was singing with the need to collect and destroy.

            The Library paused in one corridor on the second floor when he realised a door near him was sporting a light barrier with an alarm trigger. A quick inspection told the monster it would probably trip if it were opened. Instead of reaching for the knob, he knocked lightly with his knuckles and called out in a syrupy sweet voice.

            “Hello! Knock knock! Would one William Stampler be hiding out in there?”

            There was a shuffling on the other side, and then a voice that sounded rather young and decidedly not Willy Stampler answered him. “Uh, no, this is Terry Junior. Who are you?”

            “Just your friendly neighbourhood Library!” The Library made sure to roll his r’s extensively. "Is it just you in there?”

            “Uh huh. What do you want?”

            “Just looking to collect a late fee from Mr. Stampler. Would you happen to know where he might be?”

            “Uh, well, my stepdad said that the other dads were coming to break us out and told me to meet everyone down by the side door, but as I was leaving Willy’s um… ‘lesson’…” There was an edge of disgust in Terry’s voice. “Willy stopped me and basically walked me back here and threw me in and said he heard everything Ron said so, I guess he probably went down to the side door to stop everyone from getting out.”

            “Alright, well, I should be able to find that alright,” The Library said cheerfully, “You should probably just stay in here for now, and if I end up murdering Willy, I’ll send someone back up here for you, okay?” The Library sure was glad Darryl was safely locked in the kitchen, out of danger.

            “Yeah, thanks I guess.”

            “Any word on the other kids that are missing while I’m here?”

            “Well, Ron said that Nick was with Darryl and Paeden heading through the walls to tell Lark and Sparrow about the escape plan, and they aren’t here, so I guess they should be there by the side door with everyone else.”

            The Library froze and felt his stomach tighten involuntarily. “Uh, come again? Did you just say Darryl was heading through the walls?”

            “Yeah, something about a secret passage, I’m not sure, Ron was speaking kind of fast. Hey, do you think you could break me out of here, too? Hello? Uh, Library?”

            The Library was breathing faster and swept off down the hall, leaning forward to scuttle faster on his limbs as he did so, not even bothering with a goodbye. Darryl was out of the kitchen. Darryl was running around with children, who would undoubtedly get into trouble and Darryl would throw himself in the way and… no. NO.

            The Library whipped around corners so fast he ran halfway up the wall a few times just to stay on course. The stones and tapestries blurred around him as he followed his mental map of where he had been to backtrack as quickly as possible. Visions of the worst possible scenarios filled his him with dread, but all those thoughts stopped dead when he reached the hallway with the side door sitting squarely at the end of it and realised that no one was there.

            The Library sat back on his haunches and tilted his head as he listened. There was definitely some sort of echo of yelling and clattering in the distance. Someone was in combat. Probably Darryl. Hopefully Darryl, actually. If Darryl wasn’t currently fighting, then that could mean he was incapable of fighting which may mean… the Library had to get to wherever that sound was coming from. He stood, turned around, and froze again.

            “Willy Stampler,” the Library said in an even, lighthearted voice that was completely at odds with the icy pit opening inside of him at odds with his tightening muscles at the sight of the necromancer staring at him in complete silence, a purple aura pulsing around him. “I believe you have an overdue book you owe to me?”

“Yeah, here it is,” Willy Stampler waved a hand and the book appeared in it. He tossed it to the Library’s face and the monster swallowed it perfectly, licking it lips in its wake. The monster smiled. That was easy enough. “Now get out.”

“Ooh, I think I might need a little extra for late fees. A sacrifice of a few fingers may due for now. Then if you could just point me to wherever my dear Darryl has run off to, I will collect the rest of my property and go.”

“Yeah, I’m not giving you shit all else, and I’m still hoping he’s going to drop from exhaustion and get fucked up by my skeleton army soon, so no, I’m not telling you where he is, either. He’s caused enough problems. I’m absolutely killing him as soon as I’m done here.”

“Then I’ll have to kill you, because I assure you, Darryl is as much my property as any of my books!”

            “I figured as much,” Willy grumbled. “Well, since I assume you’re the reason that idiot keeps figuring out how to break into this fucking castle, I guess I’d better get rid of you anyway. Such a pain.”

            “Ooh, a fight to the death, then!” The Library felt a tug of worry, but that was getting quickly overshadowed by the righteous fury of knowing Willy Stampler was planning to destroy his precious property. There was nothing else for it. He was bound by honour and ancient magicks to defend that which belonged to him so fundamentally. He would deliver punishment or die trying.

            The Library made the first attack, his tongue launching from his mouth and striking Willy Stampler across the face with tremendous speed. The necromancer didn’t seem to care much though, his hands grabbed hold of the Library’s tongue as it retracted. The rough tongue scraped against the flesh and soon the Library tasted Willy’s blood, but the grip tightened and suddenly an absolutely acidic, burning pain laced its way from the tip of his tongue straight up into his mouth and ran the course of the Library’s body. The monster loosed a guttural screaming laugh and tugged backwards harder, this time getting free of the grip. As the touch ended, so did the pain, but the Library’s muscles still twitched and he could feel a portion of his energy was drained from him.

            “You’re good. Finger of Death, hmm? Breaking out the big spells. Guess I should get in on that, too!” The Library retracted his tongue, clearly touching this mage was not a great move, and instead his insides constricted and the fluttering of a thousand sheets of paper filled his gut and exploded from his throat, a cloud of buzzing paper minions descending upon Willy Stampler and surrounded him, obscuring his vision.

            “Fuck! Get off me you fucking- BLIGHT! BLIGHT!” The Library winced. The one flaw to his books being made of flesh was that they were sadly still vulnerable to necrotic magic, and the cloud began to flag, the pages turning wispy and frail under Willy’s power. The Library did take note that his legion at least left the man with a face full of papercuts, and he looked livid.

            “There must be a punishment for destroying library property!” The Library sang out as he neatly dodged the shoddily shot blast of negative energy that Willy sent in a burst of anger by leaping up onto the wall and digging fully into the stone, crawling up to the ceiling and launching a spray of black acid straight at Willy Stampler. The old man only just managed to avoid a direct hit and hissed and grabbed the burnt arm that hadn’t quite made it out of the way.

            “Oh don’t worry, I know all about punishment.” A sick grin spread over Willy’s features. “Don’t have too many shots with this one, but tell me if I’m right on this. I know there’s not many things that can kill something like you, but I’ll bet given enough time I bet I can bring you pretty damn close.”

            The Library felt his blood run cold in his veins before he even saw the blast of chilling white light, like the burst of a dying star. It hit the Library directly and he fell from the ceiling with a crash, gasping for breath as his body began to age rapidly.

            The Library wasn’t a mortal creature, but he also was not a god. Though his aging was normally slow and tedious, and hard to detect as he had a great deal of control over his outer appearance for the most part, the fact was that he did still age. This spell, cast only by high level necromancers, would indeed kill the Library if left uncured, and certainly weakened him enough to be dealt a finishing blow with a powerful spell.

As the light died away, the Library gasped. His skin felt tight on his bones, his mouth dry as he dragged himself along the floor to try to put distance between himself and Willy Stampler. He was weakened horribly. He couldn’t beat Willy like this. With the kind of magic he had, one more blow and…

            Shit. The Library was going to die. He’d failed. “D-don’t suppose you’d be willing to give my dear Darryl a message, would you?”

            “Not if it’s some kind of fruity garbage I won’t.”

            The Library rolled his eyes. “You’re a really miserable shit you know that? I really hope Grant kills you. Actually you know what? Tell Darryl to congratulate Grant. Never thought I’d get beaten by a child but there you go.”

            “You weren’t beaten by a child, you were beaten by me!”

            “Yes, but Grant assumed you would have the power to defeat me and therefore arranged that I would be forced to confront you and thereby die, so in a way, this was all Grant’s doing. And you know what? I prefer it that way. Much rather admit to defeat to a smart kid than a ham-fisted beast like you.”

            Willy Stampler growled and raised a hand. “I’m smarter than all you fucking idiots put together! Shut the fuck up and die already!”

            There was another flash of light.

            Willy Stampler turned around to see where it came from and got a fiery punch straight to the face. The Library gasped.

            Darryl stood resplendent over Willy’s fallen body as the necromancer howled and rubbed his burnt and broken nose. The Library’s chest heaved in effort to keep breathing with his ancient lungs as Darryl’s muscles rippled within the shreds of his burning shirt and pants. His hair and beard were singed, his eyes were shining, and every inch of him burned like a bonfire but he was clearly beyond feeling even a shred of pain. Power radiated from him as he turned to the Library and his eyes widened in horror.

            “Shit, dude, you look awful.” His voice was echoing far more than the stone walls should have allow. Was he a god? Did Darryl become a god? What was this?! How had this happened?

            “S-Scam can fix it,” the Library choked out, eyes full of confusion and wonder. “What are you?”

            “I’m a Daddy,” Darryl Wilson said as Grant appeared from nowhere, standing at his side with his arms crossed, looking rather disappointed to see the Library still alive.

            “Damn right you’re a daddy,” The Library mumbled. If he had enough moisture left in his ravaged body he might’ve drooled.

            Grant narrowed his eyes. “I’d hoped that Willy would’ve killed you by now.”

            “Good to see you too boy,” the Library grunted. Moving hurt his brittle bones and he wondered if maybe just closing his eyes and dying might actually be preferable than trying to travel anywhere.

            “That’s not nice, Grant. Stop trying to kill the Library, I… I won’t like it if he dies.” The Library’s heart soared. This was the first time Darryl had directly told his son to stop… hell, it was the first time Darryl admitted he didn’t want him to die! That was really good, especially since with whatever power he was wielding now there wasn’t much chance the Library was going to be able to stop him if he decided to free himself permanently from his master’s loving embrace. Given this, the Library decided that forcing himself to live until he could be cured of Willy’s curse was probably worthwhile.

            “W-where’s the other brat?” Willy heaved from the floor.

            “Paeden’s with Henry in the front hall with all the vaporized skeletons. Heh, they were barely a fight! Bet you’re mad I blew through your army, huh?” Darryl laughed.

            “Good, thanks,” Willy groaned, and then vanished.

            “Uh, what?” Darryl took a step toward where Willy Stampler was, and then swayed horribly. The Library made an effort to catch him as he fell, but his movements were slowed, and he had to watch Darryl crash to the floor as his flames went out and soon he was loudly snoring on the floor.

            “Shit, dad? DAD!” Grant dropped to his knees beside his father’s sleeping body and slapped his face lightly a couple of times, to no avail. “Shit, shit, shit…”

            “Oh, not a god… more Smuggler’s Root? Or similar?” The Library mumbled tiredly as he edged toward Darryl, only to have Grant deliberately get in his way. “I-I may be able to wake him up, let me-”

            “No! He’s my dad, I’ll-”

            “PAEDEN’S GONE!” Henry’s voice came down the hall before him as the druid raced around a corner and toward the small group. “Willy appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Paeden and they’re gone! I don’t know where my boys are, and I- oh, hi Library! Did you, uh, dye your hair? It’s really white now. And uh… well anyway, Darryl get up! Paeden’s- wait, is Darryl unconscious? DARRYL!”

            “Tell the boy to move and I’ll wake him!” The Library snapped, and after a brief hushed argument, Henry managed to convince Grant to stand aside judgementally as the Library laid a hand on Darryl’s forehead. If he was feeling better, the Library would just swallow the man and carry him out that way. As it was, his elderly body was so drained of nutrients that if he swallowed Darryl his starving body would likely digest him automatically and he’d lose him forever and… he couldn’t risk it. At least Darryl looked largely unhurt so with the book returned, the Library was not overtaken with the inescapable drive to track down Willy Stampler anymore.

            The Library licked one of his many fingers and shoved it in Darryl’s ear.

            “EEUGH!” Darryl shrieked as his eyes snapped open. He sat up gasping for breath and as soon as his eyes clocked the Library he looked incredulous. “Dude, did you just give me a wet willy? That’s nasty as hell.”

            “Okay, thanks, he’s awake. Dad, we gotta get out of here. Willy took Paeden, I don’t know if Bear woke up or not, and I don’t know where anyone else is. We got Henry anyway, we need to… we need to regroup. Even if everyone’s not here, we-”

            “Sorry we’re late! I had to use the little businessman’s room, um, and also we had to avoid a bunch of weird skeleton guys that were running around, and then I also had to find Terry the Rat. Which I did! He’s in my pocket with a cracker and doing quite swimmingly I would say. But anyways, I’d say things have been going pretty well for us all things considered. How has your part of the escape plan been going?” Ron called as he and Nick Close jogged down the hall now as well. Nick muttered a hello when they drew level with the rest of the party, Darryl let out a slow breath and then swallowed hard as he looked from Ron to Henry.

            “I know we don’t have Terry or Lark or Sparrow. But we’re in bad shape. Paeden’s been kidnapped too now, the Library’s looks like he’s dying, and I really think we need to go, heal up, and try again later.”

            “T-take me to Scam, he can fix- I’ve got some time, but oh boy do I not feel good.”

            “But… I can’t leave without Terry!” Ron’s eyes were huge.

            “My boys…” Henry winced, rubbing a bruise on his face. “Darryl, you said last you saw my boys were running away, right? M-maybe they got outside on their own?”

            “If they did they could have gotten quite far by now, I broke that barrier ages ago,” the Library chimed in. He wasn’t certain, but it seemed that Grant looked momentarily impressed.

            “Then… then I think you’re right, we need to get out and regroup. Ron, Terry’s a smart kid, he can survive for another day or two or however long it takes for us to come back, okay? We’ll get him next time, I promise. Besides, our fathers know about the secret passages now, so you won’t be safe here.”

            Ron looked torn. “But Terry’s not safe either… but…” He winced. “O-okay, I trust you, Henry.”

            “Thanks, buddy. Alright Darryl, we got to go.”

            “Ready to go see your dad, Nick?”

            “Whatever.”

            Darryl nodded uncertainly and stooped next to the Library, digging his muscular arms under the Library weak, spindly body and helped him to his feet. He let him lean his full weight on the barbarian as the group headed out the side door and limped their way to freedom.

            The Library’s lips tightened as he realised he might have to reconsider the word ‘delicate’ as accurately describing his pet. He actually might need to reconsider a couple of things, in fact. He definitely had some hard thinking to do.

           

Notes:

I killed bill close but he was already dead and willy is a necromancer so idk he might come back i reserve my judgement until after this glenn arc is done.

Also uuuh so this Daddy Magic Powerup thing is how im running up to my endgame. As said before im not following show canon. Also before writing this chapter I had no effing idea why paeden was gonna be important. So like a responsible adult I stole an idea from the best digimon series, Digimon Tamers. Sorta. Anyway idk i just needed smthg. I need to bring this in to a close somehow this fanfic is already insanely long how did I get here

Chapter 23: Magic

Summary:

Glenn's been fucking around with Scam, and Nick's had enough. Meanwhile, Darryl and Grant talk about what's going to happen next and the Library recovers from his injuries.

Notes:

A little fucking, a little flesh eating, a LOT of feelings.

Episode 48 steamrolled me man idk, too many Glenn and Nick feels and they vomited all over this chapter idfk

23 Magic

            Glenn Close had been having a pretty good time since the Ravenloft thing, all things considered.

            It hadn’t taken him long after Scam rescued/kidnapped him for Glenn to realise that the shapeshifting monster had a thing for him. Sure he’d suspected it once or twice when he caught Scam looking at his ass on their road trip to Ravenloft, and Grant certainly seemed to think it was pretty obvious and said as much during the hours they spent holed up in Scam’s fun-house pop-up castle together, waiting for Scam to come back with the van.

So Glenn had an idea that something was up. But what really drove it home for him came after Glenn agreed to go back to said castle with Scam and his tiny, screaming infant brother who the Library foisted on them. He told himself he had only agreed to do so on promise of a foolproof plan to break Nick out of Ravenloft if Glenn followed Scam home. However… Glenn couldn’t deny he found the possibility that Scam might be into him a little intriguing. A little.

            Pretty well as soon as they got in the faux-bouncy castle door the second time, Scam had thrown Mark across the room into some kind of ball pit, and then proceeded to throw his (Glenn’s?) arms around Glenn’s neck and put his tongue in his mouth. And Glenn, always one to read a room and go with the flow, shrugged and kissed back.

            And why wouldn’t he? Glenn was profoundly fuckable, and given that Scam had taken to wearing his face and body full time, that surely meant that Scam was also profoundly fuckable. And when was Glenn ever going to get the chance to tap his own ass again? So one thing led to another, Scam proved himself more flexible than Glenn could ever be, and a lot of gaudy furniture got stained. The event ended with Glenn having three of the most intense orgasms of his life. He hadn’t even known he could come that many times in a row, but looking into his own face while he was cumming did stuff to him he never could have predicted.

            So Glenn had a kinky narcissistic streak. Sue him.

            Lying in that waterbed with Scam Likely using his stomach as a pillow, Glenn wasn’t terribly worried about wasting time. Nick was fine, after all. The grandads weren’t going to hurt him. Hell, if his dad was anything like he remembered, he probably wasn’t anywhere near Nick. The kid was fine.

            As for Henry and Ron, either they were dead already or they were being kept alive for some actual reason and probably wouldn’t be killed anytime soon. Not worth hurrying after. Besides, Darryl was still unconscious, and going in with just him and Scam would be kind of dumb. He might as well have some fun and chill out in the meantime.

            Glenn was pragmatic. Always had been. He never quite understood why most people worried about things that weren’t worth worrying about. He certainly never understood why most people had problems using every tool at their disposal either. He definitely never understood why most people had a problem with using violence to solve a problem when the immediate benefits of that violence were obvious and didn’t hurt you or the people you actually gave a shit about.

            So, pragmatic Glenn didn’t worry about Nick or Ravenloft for a couple of weeks. Instead he hung out with Scam, and found to his mild surprise that they genuinely got along pretty well even outside the freaky and kind of mind-blowing self-sex. He had a fun sense of humour, obvious good taste if he liked wearing Glenn’s face so much, and was chock full of great stories of scams he’d managed to pull off. He even seemed fascinated by the scams Glenn shared with him, ones he’d pulled off with his dad, on his own, with his bandmates, with Nick… didn’t seem to matter, Scam loved them all. They whiled away many hours sitting in front of a flaming pit in what approximated a living room, smoking a number of magic drugs Glenn had never heard of and swapping stories.

            Glenn was pretty sure he hadn’t spent this much one on one time with anyone since Morgan died, which wasn’t exactly something he wanted to think about, but it was true. It made it easy to forget other responsibilities he might have. The only times he came close to wondering if he should be doing something other than waiting for news on Darryl was when Mark, who at some point in the first few days had grown into a toddler-body and seemed to be constantly in search of water and toys to break, would wander into the room and whine for Scam until he finally waved for Glenn to stop talking and would go attend to his brother’s needs.

            The kid mostly stayed out of the way, but when he was around, it forced Glenn to remember his own son was out there somewhere. He was probably fine, he was almost fourteen now, but seeing that toddler felt weird. It made him remember that it wasn’t that long ago when Nick was small, and wide-eyed, and Glenn had sat him down at Chef Mickey’s in Disneyland and told him that his mom wasn’t going to be there when they got home, or ever again.

            In retrospect, maybe that hadn’t been the best setting to say that in. He’d reasoned at the time that if he told the kid bad news in the happiest place on earth that maybe it would cancel each other out and Nick would just be kind of bummed but once the seven-year-old had realised what Glenn was saying he’d cried hard enough that Glenn had to leave before their Mickey-waffles reached the table. He could almost feel Donald Duck and Minnie Mouse judging him on his way out, but he maintained it was a good idea. He’d just miscalculated how much Nick would miss his mom, that’s all.

            Okay, it wasn’t his finest parenting moment. But he bought him a bunch of new Nintendo games on the way home and a huge ice cream at Dairy Queen, and he’d eventually stopped crying so he had to at least get points for trying to make it up, right? Anyway, at least Glenn had managed to keep making enough money with his music to keep them off the streets, so he’d done pretty good as a father, as far as he was concerned.

            Of course, the Glenn Close Trio had kicked him out of the band, so that was something he’d have to deal with when he got back to earth…

            That said, did he really have to rush off back to earth? Seemed to Glenn that Scam had a pretty good set up in Faerun. The castle seemed to obey his will, so there would be plenty of room to set Nick up with them when they got him back. Nick had already said he was cool with setting up a drug empire and chilling out, so what was the difference between that and running scams with Scam? If Glenn didn’t have to worry about the mass market appeal that Christmas Rock had to ensure a steady income, he could even work on some original music! Man, he hadn’t written anything in ages, not since his twenties anyway. He could totally get back into it, maybe make a name for himself in Faerun! He’d probably be hailed as the inventor of rock over here, wouldn’t that be cool? Sure it would kind of mean being Scam’s… trophy husband? Service top? Whatever, that wasn’t so bad. If Scam did something to piss him off, he and Nick could just jump through a portal back to earth, and no time will have passed! He could figure it out, no sweat.

            Yep, Glenn had been having a pretty good time. In fact, he was having such a good time, that he lost track of it. He had been at Scam’s for nearly a month when it occurred to him that wow, Darryl had been unconscious for a long time. Mark had already graduated into the body of an eight-year-old and had been spending most of his time outside running around chasing woodland creatures with fireballs, so at least he wasn’t underfoot when Glenn tracked down Scam to ask if maybe they should be looking for some magic smelling saults or something to wake the barbarian up.

            “Oh, whoops, didn’t I tell you? Darryl’s been awake for weeks!” Scam grinned, looking completely unbothered by his ‘mistake’.

            That had shook Glenn a little. He had, somehow, managed to believe that he could trust Scam to let him know when Darryl was back on his feet. Apparently Scam having a thing for him didn’t mean he was going to be honest with him, and Glenn would have to remember that. Can’t trust Scam, even when he made his face look like it was sent from God, heh.

            Trust no one, not even yourself. He should’ve figured.

            So Glenn had a brief rant at Scam over how he should’ve told him, then freaked out a little when Scam informed him exactly how long he’d been ‘chilling’ at his place, and finally was mollified when Scam wholeheartedly offered to help him with whatever he was hoping to do to scam his son out of Ravenloft.

            “Although if you want to use Darryl in your plan, you’ll have to make a plan to scam him out from under my cousin’s nose,” Scam said with a sigh, “Unfortunately, the Library won’t be too keen on letting him out of his sight anytime soon after the disaster last time.”

            Upon remembering Darryl’s pale, unconscious body and Grant’s ashen face as he stood next to it, Glenn swallowed. “Yeah, uh, you know what? Two man operations are best anyway, you know? Small jobs. Too many people in on a scam is just too many variables to go wrong. That’s probably what screwed us up last time.”

            Scam hummed, throwing his arms around Glenn’s shoulders and leaning in close to his ear. “I thought what screwed you up was me allowing Darryl to take my place in the party even when everyone explicitly told him no?”

            Glenn flushed and pushed Scam backwards. “Hey yeah, what the hell was with that, anyway? You totally wrecked what I was trying to do!”

            Scam shrugged. “I’m chaotic neutral. I do what feels right in the moment, whether it helps you or hurts you. Although, now that we’ve been fucking, I will probably try to lean a bit harder on helping you. At least with important stuff. I’m still gonna mess with you, though.”

            Glenn squinted. “Like when you hid my clothes and locked me outside when I was smoking?”

            “Basically.”

            Glenn supposed he could accept that much, and so they had begun discussing options for a plan. Of course, they still got distracted pretty often. Scam would sometimes leave unexpectedly for a couple days at a time too, but there was always some narcotics and snack foods lying around, so Glenn didn’t get too bored or worried. He’d come up with half a dozen plans within a week, and Scam had been interested in a few, but Glenn was always sure that he could come up with something a little better if ‘he just slept on it’ or ‘if he took the edge off’ or ‘if he got high enough to talk to a god about it’. So time stretched on, and Glenn got comfortable, and there was always another reason he had to wait.

            Finally there came a day when Glenn was fucking Scam over the back of a furry green sofa and detailing the nitty gritty bits of his latest big idea for a break out. The weird, heady feeling of seeing the freckles on his own ass bouncing in front of him while he worked his cock in and out of it was almost normal now, so Glenn didn’t have much trouble multitasking.

            “I’m right, right? We gotta tunnel under the thing, they’d never see it coming!” Glenn grunted, driving in especially deep on the word ‘tunnel’ and smirking at Scam’s answering moan.

“H-how do you plan to tunnel under that thing? We’d have to go all the way to the bottom of the chasm and back up again.” Scam was surprisingly coherent for someone with his feet on the floor, a couch back digging into his tummy, and his hands balancing him on the sofa cushions, all while getting fucked hard enough to scrape the sofa steadily along the floor. Glenn changed his angle while he thought of a response and tried harder to hit his prostate until Scam finally let out a short yell and clenched around him. Heh, nailed it.

As for Scam’s question… that was trickier to get a handle on. “Uh, you guys got any giant badger-moles we could talk to? Do the work for us?”

“Those are from Avatar, honeybun. Ooh, ow, can you slow down just a little… yes, good. And if you could, with your nails- oh g-g-god yesssss….” Scam yowled and arched as Glenn raked his fingernails down Scam’s lower back hard enough to leave little red welts in their wake. Scam wasn’t a full on masochist, but he liked a little pain with his pleasure. Glenn respected that, even if he preferred to avoid pain whenever possible himself.

“Oh, that’s right, my bad. Heh, that show was sick. Wait, how do you know about-?”

“M-magic. The Library can g-get books f-from other worlds sometimes even if he doesn’t always know that’s where they’re from. I- fuck- I do s-similar things something. Don’t worry about it, babe.” Scam tensed and whined as he spilled over the sofa, his whole body sagging as Glenn pulled out and started jacking it frantically, knowing he was close. Scam looked blearily over his shoulder. “Do you want me to suck it, or?”

“J-just stay like that, fuck, you’re so hot.” Glenn groaned, putting his free hand on the couch right next to Scam’s ass for balance as he spilled over the other man’s cleft and back. Scam hissed a laugh and wriggled as Glenn patted his butt. “That was good.”

“It would have to be, or what would that say about you, hmm?”

“True!” Glenn snorted. Yeah, he got off looking at his own ass. It was called self-love, and he refused to be ashamed of that. However, he was a little ashamed of his shoddily thought-out scheme. Had he really thought a tunnel would work? He had already worked out better plans than that, he knew he had. At this point, even Glenn could tell he was stalling.

Glenn had realised not long ago that he was going to actually have to implement one of these plans pretty soon. Maybe the tunneling idea he just had wasn’t the way to go, but he definitely thought scamming up another orb of dragon-kind would probably work, or scamming some people into drawing from the Deck of Many Things that he had held on to after the fight with the Library. He definitely could make that work for him.

            Just as that thought occurred to him, there was a heavy, reverberating knock on the front door. Glenn’s eyes immediately began to dart around the room for his clothes, only to remember they’d left them back in the bedroom when they’d stumbled out here earlier, chasing Mark out in the process. For all that Scam had seemed eager to get his brother back from the Library, he didn’t exactly seem to worry too much for scarring the kid. (He claimed that Mark was going to regain all his memories before he reached ‘puberty’ again anyway so he wasn’t worried about it, so although Glenn had his doubts he decided to trust Scam’s judgement regarding his own family.)

            “Who’s there?” Glenn asked as Scam stood and a faraway look came to his eyes. Glenn knew Scam had some kind of sixth sense for knowing when people were talking about him, and that was definitely what he was tapping into now. It was weird, in the last several weeks no one had ever knocked on Scam’s front door except for Mark when he wanted to come in, and Glenn knew for facts that Mark was currently in his horrifically clown-themed bedroom, most likely trying to remember how to cast hexes on his teddy bears.

            You know, maybe the kid had some kind of remembered trauma from his past life or something. He might bring that up with Scam later. He definitely didn’t think Dennis seemed like the kind of guy who was violent as a kid, but it wasn’t like he spent that much time with Dennis-as-Mark.

            Suddenly Scam laughed, shook his head, and pointed back at the staircase. “Honey, go grab your clothes. Your son’s at the door.”

            “Nick’s here?” Glenn’s face lit up in a grin. “Should’ve known! That kid’s self-sufficient as hell, knew he’d get out on his own! Uh, should I grab your clothes, too?”

            “Why?” Scam asked, and Glenn glanced down to see the man in front of him was already fully dressed in an immaculate, bright purple three piece suit Glenn would never be caught dead in. Well, at least Nick would be able to tell them apart pretty easy.

            “Right, magic. Tell Nick I’ll be down in a sec!” Glenn turned on his heal and raced up the stairs, slipping once on the polished plastic-like surface and banging his shin on the way. As he tore around the room to find his boxers, jeans and band t-shirt, he was already working on how to convince Nick they’d be better off staying with Scam in the forgotten realms. Should be an easy sell. Never having to work would mean Glenn would be around to hang out more, and Nick wouldn’t have to go to school or get a ‘real job’ if he didn’t want to, every kid’s dream, right?

            Course there wasn’t a Disneyland in Faerun, but if Walter could make a motorcycle, maybe Glenn could turn him onto making some roller coasters too. Couldn’t be that hard, right? Imagine a whole theme park designed by Glenn Close… they could call it… Glennland.

            He could already hear voices in the main hall before he left the bedroom again, and he stood at the top of the balcony for a minute before announcing himself, mainly out of surprise. Apparently Scam didn’t think it was important to mention that it wasn’t JUST Nick at the door. At least he told him to put his clothes on, though. Small mercies.

            The front hall was the most basic room in the castle, the large front door leading to a big, rectangular space lined with doors, and a staircase at the end leading up to the bedrooms with a giant painting of Mark, The Library, and, well, Glenn over the master bedroom’s doorway. Scam had explained that all images of him took on whatever disguise he was currently wearing, but it still felt a little weird looking at himself as an oil painting.

            The room itself was sparsely furnished, if rather colourful. The whole castle kind of had a ‘tripping on shrooms at the circus’ vibe to it, and the hexagonal, kaleidoscopic carpet in the center definitely spoke to that. The fuzzy green sofa Glenn had been fucking Scam on sat along one of edge of the carpet, joined by a fuzzy orange and fuzzy purple arm chair, and a milk-carton coffee table overflowing with mismatched game pieces and a 3-D chess board.

            Glenn didn’t exactly love the décor, but he’d crashed in worse places over the years. His bassist’s grandpa’s attic for one. At least Scam’s place wasn’t covered in spiders and a family of angry squirrels that moved into his first ever guitar and completely wrecked it from the inside out. Glenn never passed a squirrel on the street without glaring at it after that one.

            Glenn picked out Nick first, and found him standing close to Scam but not speaking, just vaguely glaring at him like he was mad or something. Geez, what had he said to piss off the kid already? That sucked.

            Darryl was crouched next to the orange armchair, which was holding what looked to be an extremely elderly man with way too fucking many arms. Reminded him a lot of the Library, actually. Weird. He didn’t look like he was doing so hot, coughing incrementally as Scam seemed to be talking to him. He looked uncharacteristically concerned. He must know the guy. It couldn’t actually be the Library, could it? Something bad must’ve happened, that was rough.

            Henry and Ron were with them too, which was great obviously. Henry looked a bit roughed up and Ron looked kind of dirty, but otherwise they had both sunk onto the green sofa and looked about ready for a nap. Probably fine, anyway. Grant was there too, watching his dad and the weird guy in the chair like a hawk. The other kids weren’t there, though, so Glenn had to assume the break-out hadn’t been completely successful.

            Well… obviously it wasn’t! If they wanted it to work, they should’ve called Glenn to help, duh!

            Glenn cleared his throat from the top of the stairs and caught everyone’s attention with a grin. “Hey! Don’t tell me you guys went and had a party without me? Yo, Nick! Wazzuuuuup!” He threw the horns.

            Nick did not throw the horns back.

            Instead he looked startled, looking from Scam up to Glenn and back, and then his hands abruptly clenched into fists.

            “You weren’t even really here when I showed up? You sent some fucking… who the FUCK are you?” Nick spat at Scam with more venom than Glenn had heard from him since the Bull E. Wugs where he had called the other dads narcs and claimed they were using Glenn.

            “Scam Likely!” Scam supplied with a boisterous laugh. “Sorry, been wearing your dad’s face for so long now I forgot that might be weird for you. Your dad just had to put his clothes on. We were a little busy before you got here, after all!”

            “Aw man, don’t tell the kid that,” Glenn groaned as he walked down the stairs and headed for the group. He watched the shock and nausea pass over Nick’s face briefly before it closed off. That look was… new. Glenn held up a fist for a fist bump. “Bring it in, dude!”

            Nick did not bring it in.

            Nick crossed his arms and… Glenn definitely had never seen Nick direct that kind of face at him before. Glenn also noticed that the small conversations that had been happening around the group were now dead silent as everyone watched Glenn and Nick, attuned to the tension that had laced itself in the air between them.

            “Where were you?” The way Nick said it. The stance, the look, the tone. It was like facing down his mother and Morgan simultaneously. It felt like the bottom of Glenn’s heart had dropped out and rolled across the floor. His mind, usually always working to stay two steps ahead, completely blanked out.

            “Uh,” Glenn ran a hand through his hair and glanced first at Scam whose face was still as a statue, then at Henry and Ron who looked very nervous, and then back at Nick whose lips were now pressed together as he clearly was waiting for a response. “W-what are you talking about, man? I was right here, figuring out a way to get you out of Ravenloft! I mean, you obviously found a way out without me, but-”

            “I didn’t… I mean, sure I could’ve got out eventually, I guess,” Nick’s cheeks flushed a bit red, but he pressed on anyway. “But I didn’t. Grant’s dad came to get us out. Where. The fuck. Were you?”

            “Uh…” Glenn glanced at Scam again. This time he was smirking. No fucking help to be found there. “Like I said, I was here. And hey, in my defense, I didn’t even know Darryl was conscious again till like, a week ago or something! And I had some good plans cooked up, just needed to make sure we used the right one so we didn’t fuck it up! I mean, I notice you guys are missing a few kids so obviously whatever plan they did didn’t work all the way, did it?”

            “Hey! At least we tried! Sometimes you just got to do things!” Darryl snapped from behind him. Glenn didn’t even turn to look at him.

            “Well,” Henry said carefully, “Just to be fair to Glenn, it does usually pay off to plan things out before you do them. I’m sure he did plan to come back for you, Nick.” Glenn gave Henry a quick thumbs up, but that died fast.

            “Yeah, EVENTUALLY!” Nick burst into a hysterical giggle that tapered off nearly as soon as it started. Glenn didn’t like it. He didn’t like this at all. Nick wasn’t supposed to get mad at him, he was a cool dad! “You always come back at SOME point. And you know what? I always thought that was fine, you know? All my friends at school said it was cool my dad wasn’t ever around and they could crash at my place all day. I really thought that was so fucking cool, that you trusted me on my own.”

            “That’s cause you’re a cool kid, duh,” Glenn tried an awkward smile, but Nick wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead staring resolutely at the floor. He took a deep, shaky breath.

            “At first I thought Henry was a fucking idiot, getting kidnapped by the dads and made to cook and shit. But even when they wouldn’t let him see his kids, he would do shit like cut the crusts off Lark’s sandwiches and cut hot dogs into octopuses for Sparrow and even remembered when I said I didn’t fucking like grape nuts and… and Ron didn’t need to come back, he never left! He was helping Terry the whole time, and even Darryl came back for us before you did and he already had his kid back! And… and you never came back. You left, and you… you saved Grant? Grant told me you got him out, and you didn’t bother coming back in for me?”

            Nick looked up, and Glenn sucked in a breath when he realised there were tears on his son’s cheeks. Nick’s eyes widened when they met Glenn’s and he frantically began wiping his face in his sleeve while Glenn took a hesitant half-step toward him and then stopped, hand only half-extended. He didn’t know what to do. Morgan would’ve hugged Nick. He knew that. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how. Hugging wasn’t what cools dads did, but cool dads didn’t leave their sons or best friends crying, right? Only he couldn’t exactly drop by a Gamestop and buy a smile in Faerun. There was no Disneyland here. He had nothing, but he had to at least say something.

            “I… look, things were pretty dicey out there. I just… I just knew that if I got out of there, I could regroup and make a better attempt. And Darryl screwed up my plan the first time! If him and Scam hadn’t fucked up the first time, we’d be back on earth by now! And anyway, I notice that Henry and Ron are here without their kids, so they aren’t exactly there for them now are they?”

            Ron let out a long, horrible sobbing sound and buried his face into Henry’s shoulder while the druid sneered at Glenn’s back. “What the heck, Glenn? You weren’t there! We didn’t have a lot of options, and as soon as the Library’s better we’re going back! Hear that Ron? We’re going back for Terry, you didn’t abandon him, he knows you didn’t.”

            Ron was still snivelling as Glenn rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, whatever, but yeah! If it wasn’t for Scam, though-”

            “Scam Likely wrecked your plan?” Nick’s voice sounded wet around the edges, and Glenn knew where this was headed and already regretted where he pointed his finger. “That guy?” He pointed at the Glenn-clone in the suit. “And then you went back to his place and fucked him?”

            Glenn blinked. “Okay, when you put it that way, it sounds kind of bad.”

            “You think?”

            Henry let out a hiss, Grant cringed, and Glenn heard various other noises of disapproval from around him. He grit his teeth in response, a curl of anxiety and rage running through him. Who the hell were they to judge Glenn? “Hey! I told you, I was coming up with a plan, and I would’ve gotten you out! I trusted that you’d take care of yourself till I did, just like you always do! Why the hell are you making out like I’m in the wrong here? I’m glad to see you, aren’t I? Listen,” Glenn tried to steady his voice, he had to keep his cool. Nick was leaning away from him.

He forced a smile onto his voice. “It’s fine. Hey, I’m not mad at you! We’re still cool! Scam’s a pretty cool dude, actually. You wanted to just chill out in Faerun and run a drug cartel with your old man, right? He could totally set us up for that! You wouldn’t have to go back to school, I won’t have to go back to work. We could hang out all the time!”

            “Well, not all the time,” Scam cut in, and Glenn flushed a little.

            “Yeah, well, I mean, I wouldn’t have to leave for weeks. Perfect, right? Nothing to cry about!”

            “Hey, now! Crying is a completely valid means of expressing emotion!”

            “Shut up, Henry!” Glenn snapped before looking back at Nick, who didn’t look convinced.

            Nick’s mouth stayed shut as he stared openly at Glenn. Then he looked down, shook his head, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started walking toward the front door.

            “H-hey, where’re you going, kid?” Glenn asked loudly.

            “Out for a smoke.”

            Glenn winced as the door slammed behind his son. Darryl scoffed and Glenn still refused to look at him, even as he said, “You’re not even going to go after him?!”

            “He just needs some time alone to cool off, that’s all,” Glenn shrugged, trying to play it off even as his heart hammered in his chest. “Us Close boys are like that.”

            “Hm, yes, well…” Scam looked back at the old man in the chair, who appeared to have fallen asleep, one of his hands wrapped around one of Darryl’s. “While we’re waiting on Glenn, I’ll see if I can scrounge up the components for a ninth level Greater Restoration spell, hmm?”

            The group seemed content with its new focus, but Glenn frequently found himself glancing at the front door as half an hour ticked by, and Nick still hadn’t come back.

*

            Darryl was tired, but the Library was still sleeping off Scam’s cure, so he forced himself to stay awake, at least until he could be sure that the Library was alright. It was the least he could do, really.

            The trip to Scam’s bouncy castle from Ravenloft took a few days of travel. It was about six hours on foot to reach the nearest settlement where they’d stopped to rest and get some food before using some of the Library’s funds to rent a carriage and horses to take them the rest of the way since Scam still had his van.

Those first six hours were the hardest, seeing as Willy’s spell had entirely sapped the Library’s strength and the monster’s once great stamina had left him weak and breakable. Darryl had to carry him over his back as he frequently passed out when made to walk on his own (and slowly at that), and so Darryl also would tire more easily and had to rest more often. It made things difficult, but Darryl didn’t mind, really.

            It was a bit twisted to say it, but Darryl felt like seeing the Library this close to death, all vulnerable and dependant, kind of made Darryl feel… good. For once, the Library was not only unable to control Darryl, but dependent upon him. Darryl had to carry him, watch over him while he slept, and make sure he ate enough at mealtime.

            Thinking of mealtimes made Darryl blush. The Library had implied that his strength might be kept up better if he was consumed the flesh of a ‘sentient being’ rather than the rations the others had left him to choke down, clearly against his preferences. After the first day when the Library had only been awake for five hours of it, Darryl made a decision. He had taken Grant aside from Henry, Ron and Nick, and told him the truth.

            Grant did not take it well. “YOU’VE BEEN LETTING HIM EAT YOU?!”

            “Grant, look, it’s really not that big a deal,” Darryl insisted, “He casts a spell first so I don’t feel anything, cuts a bit off, and then heals it over again!”

            “I don’t care if he heals it after! It doesn’t change the fact you were hurt in the first place!” Grant looked down at his own knuckles for a moment, clenching his hand in a fist and then huffed. “Dad, why are you telling me this now?”

            “Okay, so this might sound weird and wrong, but you’ve been getting good at healing magic, and the Library’s not doing so great, can’t really cast spells that well now and…”

            As soon as Grant realised what his dad was asking of him, he’d flipped out loud enough that Henry had questioned Darryl later on if they were okay, but in the end, Darryl had somehow managed to get Grant to agree to at least cast a numbing spell and heal Darryl after he cut some flesh free. Grant wasn’t as adept at numbing or healing as the Library was of course, so Darryl couldn’t go for as deep a cut as the monster might have, but when he’d later surprised the Library with some lightly seasoned bites of flesh from his thighs the monster had straight up started crying.

            “Y-you’re offering your flesh on your own? B-because I can’t take it from you?” he snivelled into Darryl’s shoulder as Darryl kept his weak body propped up and carefully fed the bites into the monster’s gaping mouth. Ron was out looking for more firewood and Grant had taken off to go scavenging in the forest with Henry and Nick the second he’d healed his dad’s leg, so they’d had some time alone.

            “Well, you aren’t looking great right now and…” Darryl let out a heavy sigh and tightened his hold around the Library’s side. “You’ve done some bad things, but in the end, you did help get me out of Ravenloft that time, reunited me with Grant, and I know by now you’ve just been trying to keep me alive all the times you dragged me off back to your castle so… I figure I at least owe you for that much.”

            “If that’s true, you’d be fixing that debt just getting me to Scam. You didn’t need to give me more flesh. I could have survived without it,” the Library pointed out. Darryl was quiet for a while after that, though he kept holding onto the Library when Ron came back and started tending the fire, and even as Henry came back with a basket of a fruit that resembled pears, the boys walking on either side of him.

            The Library fell asleep in that position, and although that might’ve indicated that Darryl’s flesh did little to give the monster more energy, he still gave him two more feedings of it before they reached Scam’s place. In fact, Darryl would admit to himself that if he wasn’t dependent on asking Grant to help him with cutting it off, he probably would’ve given him more.

            By the time he’d asked Grant the third time, his son seemed so exhausted by the request he hadn’t bothered to ask again. When they were getting close to Scam’s castle (it looked weird from the outside, like it was made of inflatable plastic but it felt far more solid), Grant spoken to Darryl from his seat at the front of the carriage where he was using his animal handling skill to drive the horses.

            Grant had asked, “Dad, you’re not really going to stay in Faerun with him, are you? We’re still going home after you make sure he’s okay, right?”

            Darryl’s mouth had gone dry. He’d swallowed roughly and cleared his throat. “Look, uh, maybe we can talk about that later? Let’s just get him inside first so Scam can look at him.”

            His son’s eyes had widened as Darryl stopped the carriage and jumped out of his seat like a shot to get everyone else out, exhausted as they all were. He had watched his dad like a hawk every moment since, even as Nick broke down in front of Glenn, as Scam put together his spell and worked his magic, instantly restoring the Library’s body but insisting that his cousin would need a ‘good long rest’ to restore his ‘youthful vigor’. Whatever that meant.

            While Scam and Glenn had taken Ron and Henry outside to figure out what had happened to Nick, Grant had doggedly followed his dad as he carried the Library (who was oddly heavier with his body restored) up the stairs and into the master bedroom that Scam had insisted they use.

            It was the one room in the castle that looked like Glenn might’ve designed it. The dark blues and greens gave the place a low-key psychedelic vibe, there was a waterbed in the middle with translucent siding revealing plastic fish bobbing inside it, and the furniture looked like something out of a themed motel room in Vegas.

            Darryl had frowned at the décor. Apparently Scam and Glenn shared a dramatic lack of good taste. Though, as he looked at it closer once the Library’s sleeping form was settled on the bed, it definitely looked familiar…

            “Hey dad?”

            “Yeah, son?”

            “Why does this room look kinda like the hotel room Max picked in A Goofy Movie?”

            Darryl snapped his fingers. “That’s it! That’s what it looks like!” He laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed, only to change his mind when the dip started making the Library slide toward him. He got up quickly and sat in a nearby coral-encrusted chair instead, Grant settling into leaning on the wall next to him, his eyes straying between his dad and the Library a few times before settling on his dad. When Darryl felt the eyes on him and turned to look, he saw deep worry lines in his son’s forehead and sighed, rubbing at his own.

            “Look, I… I’m trying to be more honest with you, you know that, right?”

            “Yeah.” Grant’s voice sounded so emotionless, but Darryl knew his son enough to know that he had to be feeling something. And probably nothing good.

            “So… what you asked before. It’s not… I’m not planning to stay here. But I’m just… I really don’t know what’s going to happen. I don’t want to say I’m definitely going back to earth, because we’re still in danger, and we still have to save Henry and Ron’s kids, and everything’s still a mess. But I also don’t really want to stay in Faerun forever, and I don’t think it’s a good place for you to grow up in either so, I just… I don’t know.”

            Grant was quiet for a bit, looking back over at the Library lying on top of the bed, his body dipping up and down slowly as his breathing jostled the water under him. Darryl had never seen the Library sleep before Willy had aged him like that. Seeing him sleep so much as an elderly man/monster was scary because Darryl had thought he might be dying at first, even after the Library had insisted they had plenty of time to reverse it. When Darryl had watched him sleeping that way, he’d been overcome by the urge to help him, to treat him like delicate porcelain. To ensure he received the care he needed.

            But seeing him sleep in the form Darryl had met him in felt different. He felt protective in a different way. It was hard to say where the difference was. Maybe in his elderly form Darryl had distanced him from the monster he knew, to a point where he could’ve been any old man that Darryl had some level of care for. Like this, there was no distancing. This was the man, the monster, who had held him captive and tormented him, who had tried to keep him safe and happy, who obviously cared about him even if it was in a weird, possessive kind of way.

            Darryl and the Library didn’t have much in common. Maybe even less in common than he and Carol had. But at the end of the day, any day at this point, Darryl never doubted that the Library cared about him. And if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t felt that sure about Carol’s affection for him in years. It was something he had missed without realising it was missing. That quiet assurance that someone in the world cared about him, would care if he was gone. Darryl valued that. And at some point along the way, Darryl had definitely grown fond of the Library as well.

            That said, Grant had always filled that role too, hadn’t he? Grant was his son. His son who always loved him, who tried so hard to help him, had even tried to get the Library killed to protect him as misguided and alarming as that was. And Darryl loved his son more than anything in the world. Even more than…

            “Dad, are you... in love with him?” Grant cringed and Darryl flinched at the words.

            “I…” Darryl’s heart beat a sharp tattoo in his chest as his mind skipped around like a broken record for a response to that. “I don’t know.”

             There was a light thump as Grant threw his head back into the wall, eyes shut tight. “I wish you would just go work things out with mom.”

            “I know. I’m sorry. I wish it was that easy.”

            “I don’t want to stay in Faerun.”

            “I don’t either.”

            “But you want to stay with the guy who eats human flesh and wants to keep you locked up forever.”

            “No,” the word was out before Darryl even thought about it, though once he did he knew it was true. “I don’t want to be locked up forever. I think I like him, even when he’s the way he is. I’ll admit that. I might… might feel more than that, too. But you’re my son, and I’m a dad before I’m… whatever the Library wants me to be.” He took a deep breath, a decision settling in his chest as he turned back to Grant with a reassuring smile. “I want to be there with you, on earth. If I can handle a divorce, I can handle giving up whatever’s going on between me and him. No matter what happens, as long as we get through whatever happens next, I’m going to get you home and I’m going home with you.”

             Grant blinked, and suddenly his eyes were shining and wet. His hand came up to cover his face as Darryl quickly got to his feet and pulled Grant into a tight hug.

            “You promise? You’re going to come home, right?”

            “I promise. Don’t worry, Grant. I’m not going to abandon you for anything.” Darryl held Grant tighter. “I love you, son. Nothing’s going to change that. We’ll get you home, and…” he snorted a laugh, “Maybe we should both go to therapy.”

            Grant laughed too, and Darryl swore he could feel his son rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, I’m sure a shrink would love to hear about how my dad split with my mom and rebounded with a guy who’s into erotic cannibalism.”

            “Okay, seriously, you’re losing all internet rights permanently starting right now.”

            “Aw, dad!”

            Darryl laughed again, giving his son and friendly noogie while the Library continued to doze, his calm face betraying nothing of what a creature who rarely sleeps might dream of.

*

            Nick had finished his smoke too fast and decided to walk instead of going back inside.

            What the hell had he been thinking? Calling his dad out like that in front of everyone? He’d just made everything awkward. His dad obviously didn’t know what to do, and why should he? He wasn’t exactly a touchy feely kind of guy. His dad always kept his cool, so why would he know what to do when his son couldn’t take things in stride like he could?

            Nick had overreacted, and now everyone probably thought he was some fucking idiot who couldn’t handle not having his dad holding his hand all the time. Obviously his dad thought he could handle things himself. Nick always handled things himself. He never asked his dad for help, so why would he think Nick suddenly needed him to come pick him up? Sure his dad was busy, his dad was always busy, and he was just… getting something set up for them, just keeping food on the table and a roof over their heads like he always did. Nick was being selfish. He had to be self-sufficient so his dad could focus on important things. He knew that. He did.

            Shit, he was crying again. Fuck. Nick wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie and dove behind a tree as though afraid a chipmunk was going to see and start laughing at him for it. He was being stupid. He knew he was just being stupid. He just had to get a grip, calm down, and play it off like nothing happened. If he didn’t bring it up, his dad probably wouldn’t either, and if he did Nick would just say it was fine. Things would go back to normal.

            Or… it wouldn’t. Because his dad said they were staying here. In that fucked up castle thing with that guy who looked like his dad but wasn’t his dad and… and… and Nick would deal with it, like he dealt with any weird thing his dad came up with for them to do, because he didn’t exactly have much choice, did he? It wasn’t his business what his dad wanted to do, and if Nick went back to earth by himself, he couldn’t make enough money to keep paying rent on their house. He’d end up homeless, with no one.

            Nick didn’t know how long he was outside for, but he noticed the sky was getting darker. He tried to take a steadying breath through his nose and only snivelled, coughing as a bit of mucus hit the back of his throat. Gross. He sank down into a sit and leaned hard against the tree trunk, trying to get a grip. He had to get his cool back. Of course, that’s when he heard Henry Oak calling his name.

            Not his dad. Not even Grant, but fucking Henry of all people was looking for him. Jesus.

            “Nick! Come on, it’s dangerous to be out here this late! Aw geez where could he have run off to? NICK!”

            The voice was close, and Nick was gripped with the instinct to run further into the woods, but he only just managed to stagger to his feet when Henry walked into view and of course the druid spotted him immediately in the dim light. Nick flushed when the man’s face lit up with a relieved smile and he practically ran up to him, sweeping Nick into a tight hug and only letting go when the boy squawked and flailed.

            “Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked consent. I was just so happy I found you! Glenn and Scam went off the other way and Ron was staying put in case you came back, but we were getting worried, kiddo!”

            “I’m fine. I’m self-sufficient, remember?” Nick wanted that to come out casually, but his voice rasped and he knew he sounded like he was whining. So fucking uncool. Not that he was going to look less cool than Henry Oak-the-narc but it still felt embarrassing.

            Great, now Henry was looking at him like he pitied him. Nick didn’t want to be fucking pitied. “Nick, it’s okay to be mad at your dad. You know that, right? It’s okay to be upset with him. That isn’t going to make him love you less.”

            Nick laughed, and it sounded sharp and bitter in his own ears. “Yeah, that’d be hard to do, huh?” He flinched. “I mean… fuck, no, he’s doing his best. I made a big deal out of nothing.”

            Henry’s eyes were wide and he was biting his lip as he looked down at the thirteen-year old. A hand reached out, hesitant but with purpose, and landed firmly on Nick’s shoulder. He shivered, but he didn’t pull away when Henry bent his knees to get close to Nick’s level.

            “Nick… your dad should have come for you. He should’ve been there. I’m so sorry he wasn’t. Even if he wanted to be there and wasn’t, it’s still fine to be upset about it. It’s fine to be upset at him. But more than that, you really need to talk to Glenn about it. If this situation is hurting you, if you have any problems with it, you need to feel safe telling your dad that.”

            “I don’t want to stay in Faerun!” Nick blurted out, unsure why. “Dad said he wants to stay here? I-I mean I was kind of okay with that before, with the Water Mice, but after the shit with the grandads and this… Scam guy… I just want… I want to g-go home.” Nick covered his mouth as his shoulders shook. This time he didn’t flail as Henry slowly drew him into a hug again. “I just want to go home. Fuck. Dad’s gonna hate me.”

            “He won’t. I swear he won’t. I’ll talk to him, okay?” Henry rubbed Nick’s back, and the boy shuddered again. It felt nice, but still awkward. He barely knew Henry. He wanted his dad. Where the fuck was his dad?

            “I… don’t tell him I said I don’t want to stay. Don’t tell him any of this, he’ll think- he won’t like it. Won’t like… me.”

            “It’s not your job to make your dad like you. Gee whiz, this is… Nick, I have to talk to Glenn. And so do you. We need to get back Scam’s place and figure this out. Glenn won’t make you stay here if you don’t want to.”

            Nick scoffed wetly into Henry’s shoulder. “And what the hell do I do if I go back to earth and he stays here? Be homeless?”

            Henry was quiet for a moment, then suddenly held him tighter. “Nick, if you want to go back to earth and Glenn won’t go back with you, you can move into the Oak-family basement. You can even play the drums as loud as you want! Does that help any?”

            Nick was quiet, breathing heavily as he tried to process what he just heard. Henry was offering him a place to crash? That… was a lot.

            But if he had somewhere to go, maybe he could at least sort of risk his dad hating him by trying to get him to go back to earth. No, even the thought of his dad hating him tore at his chest.

            “Not really,” Nick mumbled, “But… thanks anyway.”

            “Well, offer stands open!” Henry said, forced cheer in his voice as he let go of Nick and stood up again. “Ready to go back to the castle, anyway? Maybe we should leave any serious conversations for tomorrow, a good night’s sleep always does wonders to help my mood! No drug better than that good ol’ eight hours!”

            “For fuck’s sake, could you be more of a narc?” Nick muttered, but as Henry turned to head back, Nick followed close behind.

Chapter 24: Acceptence

Summary:

Glenn has a talk with Nick, Nick grows a beard, the Library and Darryl have a talk, and the Library makes an error in judgement.

Notes:

I'M BACK BABY! WE GOT FEELINGS! WE GOT GLENNXSCAM SEX! WE GOT DARRYLXLIBRARY SEX! WE GOT HORRIBLE VORE! WE GOT TRAUMA! WE GOT BODY HORROR! LETS PLAY IT AGAIN!

I dunno, I'm closing in on the end of this thing and maybe I'm rushing some parts more than I originally conceived them but like... I just... I want this to be finished so I'm going to do my best with that. Thanks for sticking with me this long, just six more chapters to go.

24 Acceptence  

            “I can’t believe you had a bedroom the size of an airplane hanger in your house and you didn’t tell me. We could’ve been fucking in here this whole time,” Glenn muttered as he laid back on the abso-fucking-lutely massive double king-sized bed in the middle of the room while Scam bounced on his dick and demonstrated what Glenn’s face was supposed to look like mid-coitus.

            “A-are you serious? T-told you, can make whatever… whatever we want in here, you’re the one who wanted that motel room thing. C-could’ve done this from the start if you asked. Shit, I’m close!”

            “Yeah, yeah,” Glenn sighed, folding his arms more firmly behind his head. His forehead wore a sheen of sweat, but though his body was interested enough in the ass currently trying to milk his dick it for all it was worth, his mind was elsewhere.

            Henry had found Nick, which was great. Good to see the kid was okay, obviously. But Nick hadn’t even looked at Glenn when he asked how his smoke was? And then he just wandered off with Grant to the bedroom Scam made for them without a word.

            Ron had already been snoring by the time they had got back and Henry had to carry him to their guest room, so Glenn hadn’t really had time to ask what was up. All Henry had told him was that he had to talk to Nick in the morning, but that wasn’t really how Glenn and Nick handled things. What did Henry know about it, anyway?

            Scam came without much warning and fountained over Glenn’s chest, but the rocker dad barely noticed. He did notice when Scam reached down to slap him across the face though.

            “Ow, hey! What the hell, man?!”

            Scam had stopped bouncing and was just looking at Glenn now through half-lidded eyes, mouth twisted downward. “Just making sure you’re not sleeping. I can keep riding you, or would you rather I just got off and let you finish things yourself?”

            “Oh, yeah, that’s fine,” Glenn nodded absently and Scam huffed as he slid up and dismounted, lying beside Glenn instead. He didn’t move to touch his cock, the erection was already flagging on its own once the constant stimulation stopped. Glenn’s nose scrunched up as Scam tapped on it with his finger.

            “What’s on your mind, hot stuff?”

            “I don’t want to talk about it.”

            “Well since sex isn’t distracting you like it should be, I don’t have a lot of other options. It’s Nick, right? He’s mad at you and it’s messing you up, huh?”

            Glenn frowned up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I guess. I dunno.” There was silence, but Glenn could feel Scam’s eyes boring into him. Fine, whatever, what did Scam care about his relationship with Nick anyway? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk about it to someone who wasn’t going to try to get involved. “Nick’s never been mad at me before. Well, maybe once, when Morgan… died.” Glenn winced. “It didn’t uh, I didn’t handle telling him that good. But since then, like, sure he’s had bad days but he would never turn down hanging out with the old man, right? And he said he didn’t want to stay here, even when I told him I was gonna stay and why, and he just… he said no? He’s always been up for whatever I wanted to do before, and he was sure as fuck down to stay in Faerun when we were in Waterdeep with the van and the child fights. But now he’s just… not in it? It’s weird.”

            Scam drummed his fingers on Glenn’s forearm until he uncurled a fist and Scam immediately laced his hand with Glenn’s. They fit together perfectly, obviously, given that Scam’s hand was the same as Glenn’s down to the fingerprints.

            “Maybe he was just tired from the trip?”

            “Nah, that’s not it.” Glenn blew out a breath and tightened his hand around Scam’s unconsciously, still directing his words at the faraway ceiling where they echoed back to him seconds later. “He’s mad at me for not saving him.”

            “That’s what he seemed to be saying in the foyer, yes.”

            “I… I kind of knew we were waiting too long. So, I’ll tell him it was my bad and get him something to make up for it. If he’s not mad at me anymore, he’ll probably come around to sticking it out in Faerun, right?”

            “Sounds like a plan to me!”

            Glenn turned his head to match Scam’s identical grin. “Great! So, we’re the nearest Toys R Us?”

            “The what?”

            “Oh yeah, that went out of business right? So lame. Well, where do you go in Faerun to buy your kid something really fucking cool?”

            Scam hummed, leaning in close enough to peck Glenn on the nose with his lips this time. Glenn scrunched up his face again, just the way Scam liked seeing it. “Don’t worry, I think I’ve got just the thing to solve your little problem with Nick.”

            “Sick, what is it?”

            “I’ll tell you in the morning, sweet thing. Now, how about we see if we can empty those thoughts out of your head for a bit now, hmm?”

            “Huh? Oh, right. Nah, I don’t think I’m in it right now. Unless you need another go? I can jerk you off or something.”

            “No, no, that’s fine…” Scam sat up, looking down at Glenn with more than a little concern on his face. “This is really bothering you, huh?”

            “I guess. Yeah. He’s really mad. It harshed my vibe pretty bad. I know it sounds crazy, but it almost feels like Nick’s been influenced by someone else, you know? Like, when Nick was born I thought, shit, I don’t know how to have a daughter. But then when he started insisting he was a boy when he was three all I thought was, fuck yes! And he would copy how I dressed, and did everything I did, and Morgan would call him ‘mini-Glenn’ and it was… it was cute. And like, I knew how to handle a little me, right? Only now, I don’t know. It’s like for the first time, Nick feels like someone else, like he’s not just a little me, and wants to be different. Which is fine! But it almost feels like he wants me to be someone else too, you know? I-I don’t think I can change just like that, you know?”

            “Well, I don’t want you to be anyone else. You’re perfect as far as I’m concerned.”

            “Dude, I know, right? But this is heavy stuff.”

            “Sounds like it, hm.”

            With a short groaned, Glenn flipped over on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. “Ah, fuck it. I’m overthinking again, right? It’ll work itself out.”

            “I’m sure it will,” Scam said, tracing a hand over Glenn’s lower back just firmly enough that Glenn wouldn’t notice it tremble.

*

            “Ron, focus,” Henry said at the breakfast table as Ron tried to stack his utensils on top of each other into a tower for the third time in a row. “We need to figure out what to do when we get back to Ravenloft. Darryl was able to unlock his Daddy Magic powers, but without Paeden I don’t know if he can do it again? Paeden seemed pretty important.”

            “Um, that sounds really complicated, and I don’t know if I want to think about it right now because thinking about Terry is going to make it hard to eat my pancakes. My stomach gets all squeezy and gross.”

            “Stay with my Ron. We gotta sus this out. Maybe if we got in there with Paeden, we could figure out how to unlock our Daddy Magic and take on our dads, four on two! And not Glenn’s since the Library said he uh, took care of him already.”

            “Yeah, uh, thinking about fighting my dad doesn’t make me want to eat, either. Anyway, why is Paeden important, again?”

            “We don’t know, the Library thinks he’s connected to Daddy Magic but that’s all we were able to figure out.”

            “Well, we spent a lot of time with Paeden as a group. Maybe we don’t need him anymore. Like, uh, like Dumbo.”

            “Paeden isn’t a fake magic feather, Ron.”

            “Yo, Nick! Check this out!” Glenn said as he walked into the dining hall the next morning. It was one of the more mundane rooms of the fun house, aside from all the wooden chairs being adorned with carvings of clowns and a ring of clown paintings on the walls. Luckily, Glenn had always been a fan of sad clown paintings. Darryl and the Library were nowhere to be seen and Scam had gone to look for Mark who had gone missing in the night (not for the first time) after giving Glenn Nick’s present. Henry, Ron, Nick, and Grant were already at the table which was adorned as usual with a whole buffet breakfast of sticky waffles and pancakes, baskets of fruit, towers of toast, and a whole goddamn bucket of scrambled eggs.

            However, even in the face of this bounty, no one was going to be able to take their eyes off what Glenn was holding out in front of him. (Except for Grant who didn’t seemed to give two shits as he shovelled pancakes into his face at the speed of light). It was a belt, long and broad and with a number of large shining garnets set along the length of it. There was a great buckle made of what looked like solid mithril, with the image of a hammer crossed with an axe impressed upon it.

            “Oh, I miss belts. Makes me wish I’d grabbed that belt that gave me holographic pants. Sometimes I wonder, would Terry Jr. respect me more today, if I had been talking to him through that wall as a man wearing pants?”

            “I think Terry Jr. probably just assumed you were wearing pants, Ron.”

            “Thank you Henry. I sure hope so. But also I was talking to Terry the Rat just now and it’s kind of rude to answer a question that wasn’t directed at you.”

Nick looked at the belt for a second. To Glenn’s frustration, his son also looked back at Henry across the table and waited for the other man’s encouraging nod before he ran a hand through his hair and finally looked Glenn in the eyes for the first time since his blow up.

“Yeah, that’s cool, Dad. Can we talk?”

            “Uh,” Glenn hesitated, belt still held in front of him. This wasn’t part of the script. “Can I show you the belt, first? It’s really cool. I thought, you know, maybe you had a point yesterday about how I should’ve been there to break you out.”

            Nick paused, half out of his chair. He seemed a bit stunned. “I did?”

            Glenn nodded, pleased to have Nick’s attention again. “Yeah! I mean, I was definitely planning to come for you, but I thought about it and you know, I probably should’ve at least checked in with Darryl to see what he was doing and we could have coordinated something together so, my bad there. And I totally get why you’d be pissed over that.” Glenn coughed lightly and brandished the belt again. “Buuuut, just wait till you see what this thing does!”

            Nick bit his lip and, annoyingly, glanced back at Henry again who was biting his lip just the same. What the hell was that?

            “Maybe you should have a talk before you give Nick your present?” Henry suggested.

            Glenn opened his mouth to tell Henry to fuck off but Nick was already reaching for the belt. Glenn happily let off of it as his son’s arms dipped at the firm weight of the thing. Glenn hadn’t thought about that, would Nick be able to wear it?

            “I mean, it’s nice I guess, but I’d rather take the cash,” Nick said after a moment. Glenn laughed.

            “That’s my boy! But nah, this is actually really cool. It’s called the Belt of Dwarvenkind! It gives you special powers and shit.”

            “Oh yeah? Like what?” Nick asked as he started fiddling around to put it around himself, wrapping it twice and struggling with the buckle as Glenn started gushing.

            “Okay, so it basically toughens you up by magic, right? So you can take hits better, makes you resistant to poison. But it also does some weird shit, like it makes it so you can see in the dark and speak Dwarvish which has got to be useful. But the best part is- holy shit.”

            “Glenn, what the hell did you do?!” Henry gasped.

            “Oh, sick,” Grant mumbled through his breakfast, finally looking up with syrup dripping down his chin.

            “Ooh, can I get a turn with the belt? Please? Just for a minute, I promise,” Ron asked, waving a hand in the air.

            “What the fuck?” Nick patted his cheeks and dug his fingers into the new, smooth black hair there that ran down to his chin and formed a sleek, short beard. Nick’s eyes widened comically as he stared up at his dad. “You got me a belt that makes me grow a beard?”

            “Yeah!” Glenn grinned, the shine in Nick’s eye as he ran to the golden plates at the table to try and squint at his smeared reflection told Glenn everything he needed to know. Scam was right, this was absolutely the perfect gift to make things up to Nick. Everything was going to be juuuuust fine.

            Nick took a deep breath, ran a hand absently through his new beard again, and looked back at his dad. “This is fucking awesome. Thanks. And uh, the stuff about you not being at Ravenloft… it’s cool. We’re cool on that, I mean.”

            “Nice!” Glenn sent Henry a smug smile, though was a bit put off by the sad look he got in turn. He ignored it and looked back at Nick. “So I was thinking, when you’re done breakfast, Scam built this cool glow in the dark bowling alley in the back. The pins run around and it’s so weird, you’ll love it.”

            Nick winced. “Uh, I don’t think it’s-”

            “Or not!” Glenn said quickly, “I mean, lots of time to do that later if you’re still tired from yesterday we can just chill out. We-”

            The breath Nick took was deep and calming and nothing like his son. “Dad, we still need to talk.”

            Glenn’s blood turned to ice. A nervous laugh escaped his throat, and he’d have to be blind to miss the way Nick’s eyes lit with confidence when it did. “A-about what, kid?”

            For the third fucking time, Nick glanced back at Henry and now that pompous ass was the one with the smug smile when Nick turned back to Glenn. “A bunch of stuff. Can we take this outside?”

            “Uh, you’re making it sound like you’re going to punch me. You wouldn’t punch your old man, right?”

            “That depends, are we gonna talk or not?”

            Glenn grumbled, but nodded and sent a glare at Henry one more time as he followed Nick out of the room. Between the beard, the confidence, the demands? Glenn wasn’t sure if he recognised Nick at all. Terrifying and conspiracy baity as that was, even Glenn knew when he was beat. He was going to have to talk to his son, and a weird, horrible feeling rose in Glenn that this unrecognisable Nick might in fact be the real one after all.

*

            “So, uh, what’s up?” asked Glenn after he and his son had walked off a fair distance from the bouncy castle. As soon as they had left, Nick had pulled out a knife (had he got it from Paeden? It looked familiar) and was checking out his reflection in the blade again.

            “Do you think I can buy smokes without an ID now?”

            “In the eighties sure, now they still ID me sometimes.”

            “You don’t have a beard, though.”

            “Yeah, my side of the family can’t grow more than a mustache, and the only one who ever made that work for him was my mom’s dad. Looks good on you though, kid.”

            “Thanks,” Nick swallowed, putting his knife away and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Dad, I don’t want to stay in fucked up magic land. And that Scam guy is freaking me out. Why the hell does he look like you?”

            Glenn didn’t know how to respond to the first two statements, so he answered the only thing he could. “Well, Scam’s kind of a shapeshifter and I don’t think his actual body is uh, human? So he just kind of wears whatever face he likes the look of, and he likes mine, obviously, so he’s been sticking with it.”

            “And then he seduced you. With your own face.”

            “Hey, I look good and I’m not ashamed of that.” Glenn smirked as Nick covered his eyes and groaned. This was easier than Glenn thought it would be! Talking to Nick was easy, why did he worry about it so much?

            “Dad, why can’t we just go back to San Dimas? I don’t… I don’t want to get…” Nick wasn’t looking at Glenn, but his voice had changed. Something was off and Glenn’s jaw snapped shut in fear of what Nick might say. What he might admit. “I can’t stay here, dad. Why do you want to stay? Why can’t we just go home so everything can go back to normal again?”

            Glenn grit his teeth. That’s the last thing he wanted to answer but if the kid needed to hear it, whatever. “We can’t just go back to normal. The band kicked me out, remember?”

            “Well yeah, but can’t you just get another band? You always said they were lucky you wasted your time with them, so can’t you just get a new one?”

            “Yeah, uh, it’s not as easy to pick up decent bandmates as you’d think. You gotta have backup vocals that harmonize, and it can take a while to get used to each other’s register and volume, you know.”

            Nick’s voice was getting higher. “Okay, then go solo! You always said you wanted to break free of those losers and do your own thing, so do it!”

            “Nick, woah, calm down! Look, you’re right, I totally want to try that, but there’s uh, some legal trouble with using the name Glenn Close for a band right now and…” Glenn blew out a breath. “Look, the band broke up pretty recently, right? And I’ve been kind of playing it loose but uh, I was already kind of worried I might have to get a, uh, a sucker job, you know? Just till I got the career back on track.”

            Nick made a face, kicking a rock as he did so. “Like, a janitor or something? That’s lame.”

            “I know, right? Or factory work, you know, something to pay the bills? But if we stayed here, Scam would pay the bills, and we could just chill. Scam’s like, not insanely powerful, but he knows how this world works. We stick with him, and you know I’m in good with him, we’ll be fine and we won’t have to do anything we don’t want to ever again!”

            Nick was quiet for a minute, then, “I mean, getting a regular job wouldn’t be that bad, right?”

            Glenn’s jaw dropped. “What? You DO want me to change! I fucking- Nick, dude, are you seriously telling me to drop out of music and be a narc?!”

            “Not forever!” Nick said quickly, wincing, “J-just till you can build a solo career like you said!”

            “That could take years! I’m gonna have to start over building my brand, and if I’m working at a factory or something I’ll be tired all the time… you can’t create when you’re exhausted, man! If I did that, I’d be giving up on my dream!”

            Though even as Glenn said it, he felt sick with himself. As Nick’s face crumpled and he turned from him, he knew he fucked up. But… but it was his dream. He had to… but…

            “Dad, that’s the only reason you want to stay here so bad? So you don’t have to work? You’d give up Earth, and video games, and theme parks, and fucking technology? And… and our h-house, you’d leave all that shit behind? You’d leave mom-” Nick’s voice choked off as Glenn’s own throat closed. “Dad, what the fuck am I supposed to do here, if you’re doing music and fucking around with Scam? Just… sit in that freaky house and do drugs? Forever?”

            “Well, hey, no…” Glenn frowned, frantically trying to think of something else Nick could do. “You could play drums! You always need a drummer to pull tail, right?”

            “Dad, I don’t give a shit about ‘pulling tail’! I’m ace! I’m fucking ace, dad! And I haven’t cared about playing the drums for years, there’s like, a whole pile of dirty clothes lying all over them!”

            Glenn’s mouth dried. He hadn’t noticed that. What else didn’t he notice? “W-well you could, uh…”

            “There isn’t a life here for me, dad! But I can’t… I can’t go back without you, cause then I have no one! I’ll have to go into the system, and that’s… Dad please, please, just…”

            “Nick, shit, are you crying? Look, uh, I didn’t think-”

            “No!” Nick’s voice was hollow as he rubbed furiously at his eyes. “I know you didn’t… you didn’t think about me. It’s never about me, right? Now I’m in the way of your dream, so you’re going to hate me.”

            Glenn stopped walking, grabbing Nick’s shoulder and spinning his son around to face him. “I don’t- fuck, Nick, I could never hate you! Why would you even say that?!”

            “That’s why you hated your mom, right? Cause she wouldn’t let you just do music! And you hated grandpa because he didn’t really support you either, right? But mom was perfect for you cause she understood your dream.”

            “It… it’s more complicated than that,” Glenn pulled Nick off the path to sit on a couple of conveniently placed boulders. Nick wasn’t looking at him steadily, but he was glancing at him every once in and while. Good enough. “I didn’t hate my mom. I don’t talk about her much, I know that, but like, she was working long hours a lot to support us since my dad was always late on child support, you know? She just didn’t get how much I needed music, and she was tired all the time, and I just… I didn’t want to have to live like that.”

            “Yeah,” Nick said softly.

            “But I didn’t hate your grandma for that.” Glenn’s voice dropped to a mutter. “And believe me, there were a lot better reasons to hate Bill.”

            “But you loved mom cause she supported you no matter what.” Nick still didn’t sound any better, and that was getting frustrating, but Glenn was going to make the kid understand, somehow. He had to. Even if he had to say something that hurt to admit.

            “She didn’t… you were too young to remember everything about her.” Glenn sighed, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “Your mom was hella cool, you know? But uh, sometimes it wasn’t perfect, you know? We fought sometimes, like, when you were young Morgan would be the one working a lot cause I was trying to get my career off the ground.”

            Nick looked up, eyes still shining but he was looking at Glenn again, at least. “You never told me you and mom fought.”

            “Yeah, it’s not something I love talking about, you know? After she died, uh, I just wanted to remember the good stuff. When she passed, that was just under a year since The Glenn Close Trio started actually making money. We’d just managed to move out of that crappy apartment and started renting the house, things were just starting to get better for us and we were joking around and stuff again, and then…”

            “The car crash. You don’t like talking about that either.”

            Glenn nodded, now he was the one avoiding eye contact as he twisted the wedding ring around on his finger. “You know me, I don’t like things that mess with good vibes, right? But Morgan and me, we had hard times before that. She would get mad when I would spend rent money on weed, and I’d yell at her because she cut my guitar strings when I wouldn’t stop practicing when you were taking a nap, and we’d make up and keep moving and there was good stuff too. I told her mom to fuck off one Christmas when she tried to tell her she was a bad mom for letting you be a boy which was stupid… her face was priceless.”

            “Yeah, you’ve told me that one.” Nick smiled faintly.

            “But the point is, it’s fine if you don’t always agree with me, right? Like, I’m not going to hate you or leave you to starve in the street just cause you don’t like all the same things I do.”

            His son gave a quick nod, then held out his hand for a fist bump. Glenn gave it gladly. “Thanks, dad.”

            “So we’re cool?”

            “Yeah, on that. But um, I really, really don’t think I can stay in Faerun. Like, at Ravenloft they were… t-torturing us, Dad. And I know it’s not a big deal, like, I can roll with most stuff, but you weren’t there, and I was by myself, and I kept thinking, what if they figure out I’m trans? What would they fucking do to me? You weren’t there and I-” Nick was getting faster as Glenn’s heart stuttered. He jumped to his feet and ran to Nick, grabbing his face and wishing to god he hadn’t let him grow a beard so he could check his face for marks.

            “Woah, hold up! They tortured you? I didn’t know they were doing that! They said they wanted to be good dads, so I thought…”

            “And you believed them?” Nick’s eyes were huge. “Dad, I thought you just didn’t care! This world’s so fucked up and you seem fine with it, I thought I wasn’t supposed to worry about it that much.”

            “What did they do to you?”

            Nick pulled away. “I dunno, usual stuff. Willy hit me when I talked back to him or stole food, Barry had these like, pain spheres that kind of took you out for a bit when he was mad about something. They threatened to do worse, but it wasn’t that much-”

            Glenn tugged Nick up from the boulder and clutched him to his chest, the beard at his neck felt kind of weird but fuck it. This was… fuck. Fuck.

            “I fucked up,” Glenn said quietly, breaking when Nick gasped. God, how much had to fucking gas lit this kid into thinking he wasn’t a fuck up? He was always a fuck up. That’s why his dad didn’t want to hang out with him, and he’d let his son go through that shit… he was just like his own dad. Shit. “Nick, I’m sorry. We won’t- you’re right, we can’t stay in this fucked up place. I don’t know how to fix things, really. But we’ll go back to Earth, and we’ll go to Disneyland, and we’ll figure it out, okay? Maybe I can talk to the band, get them to take me back.”

            Nick was quiet for a while, and Glenn was starting to wonder if he should suggest they head back in when he finally spoke again. “So, I don’t really… like Disneyland?”

            Glenn froze, then pulled back to look at his son at arm’s length. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

            “I’d rather go to Universal Studios.”

            Glenn’s eyes went wide. “Is that beard a parasite? Has it taken over your brain?! I raised you to be a Disney kid all the way! Universal, are you serious?!”

            “I like the Minions, dad.”

            “MINIONS?!”

            “You promised you wouldn’t hate me!” Nick said quickly, shoulders tensing up as Glenn’s hands clenched down on them. He forced himself to let go and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

            “I don’t hate you. I just… how long have you liked Universal?”

            “A few years. I didn’t tell you cause I thought you’d flip out and, you know… hate me.”

            Glenn frowned and ran a hair through his hair. “Is there more stuff you haven’t been telling me? I always thought you’d tell me anything but I mean… I guess you… don’t.”

            “Yeah, there’s more stuff. Don’t really want to get into all of it though. Just thought you should know… that.”

            Glenn sighed deeply and gave a final nod. “Okay, well, just so you know, whatever you tell me, I’ll accept you how you are. Even if I don’t agree with everything, or I argue about it, I’m not gonna stop being your dad or anything. You’re my kid, whoever else you decide to be.” He winced. “Universal? Really?”

            Nick snorted out a laugh, and Glenn shook his head in mock disappointment as he threaded an arm around his son’s shoulders and started walking him back to Scam’s place.

*

            “We need to talk.”

            “I literally just opened my eyes, and that’s what I’m greeted with? Where am I?” The Library sat up in the waterbed, which dipped sharply under his ass as he squinted blearily past Darryl’s bulky frame at the shell-encrusted bedroom furniture and fishing net hanging from the ceiling.

            “Scam’s place still. I think Glenn designed this room based on a Disney movie. That’s not important, we need to talk.”

            The Library groaned and smacked his lips before falling back on the water-mattress again. Sitting up still left him feeling woozy, but he knew he was leaps and bounds better than he had been before he had passed out. A quick glance at the back of one of his hands showed him that the deep, worn wrinkles were gone and smooth, only faintly lined skin remained in its place. As usual, Scam had proven himself more than capable of great feats of healing magic, but if the Library was still recovering he must have been even closer to death than he had assumed. It was a chilling thought.

            “Library?” Darryl, sweet Darryl, asked while the Library attempted to compose himself. His limbs fanned around him and he scooted over on the mattress far enough to accommodate an extra person. He patted it invitingly until Darryl, with a put upon sigh, sat on the bed as well. Then it only took some insistently tugging on the back of his shirt for the barbarian to give in completely and lay beside the monster, allowing fingers to curl into his hair. “We still need to-”

            “Yes, alright.” The Library sighed, pulling Darryl flush to his side and shutting his eyes against the muted blue light that filled the room. “What do we need to talk about?”

            “Well for one thing, you don’t have control of my hand and foot anymore, right?”

            The Library paused, eyes opening as he tried to tap into his flesh network and found only that which resided within himself. Even at that, there was something off… oh no.

            “Darryl,” the word came out breathless as the monster’s heart squeeze itself inside his chest in panic. His hands clenched his pet’s bicep hard enough to bruise and the man yelped. “Darryl.”

            “What is it? What’s wrong?” Darryl asked hurriedly, trying and failing to sit up as the Library wrapped more and more limbs around him cocooning him as the monster’s breathing picked up to a freight train pace. “C-can’t breathe! CHOKING!”

            The barbarian burst from the Library’s arm cocoon in a show of strength, but before the Library could launch himself at his pet again he was shocked to find himself grabbed into embrace next, several limbs pinned to his sides as two thick, hairy arms held him tight to a heaving chest.        

            “Darryl?”

            “It’s okay, I’m here, you’re okay,” Darryl chanted, running a hand up and down the Library’s back as the monster’s heartbeat slowed in increments.

            “Th-they’re… they’re gone, Darryl, they’re all-”

            “Hey, it’s okay, what’s gone?”

            “Books. The books.” A sob wrenched its way out of the Library’s throat and Darryl gaped.

            “What? Your books? How can your books be gone? Weren’t they, you know, in you?”

            “That’s the whole problem!” The Library moaned, turning his face in to his pet’s chest and shuddering. “They were inside of me when my body was dying. The books are made from my flesh, and when parts of my body failed me they were dissolved to make up for it. Before Scam did his magic I was able to stop them from being fully absorbed, but after his spell knocked me out, my body was healing itself on autopilot so it…”

            “Shit,” Darryl muttered, rubbing circles into the monster’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, I know how much they meant to you. I mean, you’ve got to have some out there still to be returned, right?”

            “Yes,” the Library snivelled, “But hardly a drop in the ocean compared to what I lost.”

            “Well, Grant had a couple last I checked with him, if I got him to give them back, would that help?”

            “A little? Maybe?” The Library frowned when Darryl’s grip loosened and his limbs immediately held the man down again. “Stay.”

            Darryl settled again with a sigh. “So did losing control of my limbs have to do with the dying thing, too?”

            “I expect so,” the Library muttered, “Grant’s magic had them both cut off from my network for the most part, my body was shutting down anything that wasn’t immediately useful to keep the major organs running, including whatever was clinging to those small tethers. So for all intents and purposes, your limbs are your own unless I ah, reintroduce myself to them.”

            “So what does that mean for me?”

            The Library paused, his tongue twitching deep in his mouth as a limb curled around Darryl’s wrist. He would struggle, obviously, but the Library still might be able to wrestle one of his hands into his mouth and steal it back, reform it, return it before Darryl could escape…

            He let the wrist go and sighed.

            “Well, it means I can’t physically control you at the moment for one thing,” the Library admitted. “And you’ve saved my life, presumably also the books Grant had borrowed before, and technically the books within me as well given that while the exact contents are lost, their mass and the knowledge still exists within me now. I may be able to reconstruct them to some degree, though it will take a lot of time.”

            Darryl paused in his rubbing and when the Library looked up he found his pet looking at him with eyes wide in disbelief.

            “Uh, are you saying I paid my debt?”

            The Library heaved himself up the man’s body, throwing his arms around burly shoulders and pressed a clean kiss to Darryl’s lips. No getting around this one. The Library knew the old laws, and if anything his pet had proved quite well at Ravenloft that he wasn’t nearly as helpless and in need of the Library’s protection as the monster had made himself believe.

            Darryl earned this. The Library could force nothing else from him, even if the mere thought of losing another possession after all his books hurt more than he could possibly say. He was a creature of rules at his core.

            “Yes.”

            The silence following that word was heavy. Darryl was still clearly bewildered while the Library felt as though he were in free fall. Neither was sure what to do next.

            “So… I’m free?” Darryl said after a while.

            The Library leaned back and rolled his eyes to the ceiling with a hum. “Well, I would think of it more as ‘permanently on loan’ to yourself. I mean, even if I’m not connected to your limbs at the moment a part of me will always be within them, so I don’t think I could think of you as entirely outside of my rightful collection. But, as far as being forced to give up your flesh on a regular basis to make up for the destruction of Library property and uh,” he swallowed, “And therefore having to remain on hand for such offerings, that’s finished. More or less.”

            “So I can leave.” That wasn’t a question. The tip of the Library’s tongue flickered against his lips, wetting them slightly. He nodded. There was more silence, though Darryl’s hands sat on the Library’s hips, stroking them slightly as they continued to gaze at each other.

            “I like you,” Darryl said finally, and the Library’s heart leapt to his throat.

            “I-I like you too, Darryl.” That earned a snort. The monster grinned sheepishly. “I suppose you knew that.”

            “Yeah, uh, god this is hard.” The barbarian leaned in and pressed his lips to the Library’s. It was firm and fast, but the Library appreciated it none the less. “I like you, and having sex with you is fun. If you were like, some guy I met on earth, or if I’d been born in the Forgotten Realms and my life was here, maybe we could make this work.”

            And just like that, the Library’s heart sank like a stone and he pulled away from Darryl completely, sitting back on his haunches and turning away. “But it can’t work.”

            “Right. I’m sorry, it’s just-”

            “Grant.” The Library knew that Darryl would leave if given the opportunity. He knew there wasn’t really a choice to be made. Darryl was a good father. The Library knew a good father would value his child over everything. That’s why he had ensured Grant’s safety from the start, after all. “Faerun is dangerous, and your son needs you with him, and needs to go back to Earth. And because Earth’s time moves slower than time in Faerun, you can’t just nip back and forth.”

            “Yeah,” said Darryl, his voice flat. “I’d invite you to go to Earth with us, but you don’t, uh…”

            “I can’t shapeshift the same as Scam and Mark can. I can’t pass as human, and Earth doesn’t have magic and monsters.”

            “It’s just not going to work out.”

            “I know.” It felt terrible. The Library’s throat and tongue felt dry and brittle. His eyes were prickling, too. His limbs were twitching with the need to grab Darryl, cram him down his throat, hide him from the world, keep him forever… but there was a way these things worked. Darryl had saved him, nursed him, fed him when he didn’t have to. He had earned a reward and the Library’s kind played by rules ingrained in them from the moment they sprang from magic’s primordial goo.

            “But, uh, it’s not like I’m heading back to Earth today, right?” The Library slowly turned his head back toward Darryl, and found the man with an encouraging little smile on his face as he reached out to gently take one of the Library’s many hands. “You look like you’re still healing up, and we should probably go back to the keep before heading to Ravenloft anyway since it might be the safest place to leave Grant and Nick when we go get the rest of the kids.”

            “Your point being?”

            “Well, I mean, that would give us time to uh, do some stuff. Before I go. And hey, if you want some extra flesh to remake that cool sports book you made out of me, I wouldn’t mind donating a bit more. I mean at this point, why not? It would give you something to uh, remember me by?”

            “Oh.” Yes, the Library was definitely tearing up now. No stopping it. “Oh, Darryl.” He flung himself at the man and pressed a needy, open-mouthed kiss to Darryl’s lips, careful to keep his tongue aside as Darryl moaned and opened his own mouth on instinct, running his soft human tongue along the edge of the Library’s fangs just lightly enough to avoid drawing blood.

            Good thing, too. If the Library tasted Darryl’s blood just then, it might not end well. Best not to bring that up though, as Darryl leaned into him and those deliciously large hands began to pull up the Library’s sweater-vest in a practiced motion. His eyes shut as they broke apart so he wouldn’t get a headache watching the quantum chaos that was the sweater vest being pulled off of an uncountable number of quasi-tangible limbs all at once.

            “You sure you’re okay with this?” the Library asked as he pulled Darryl’s t-shirt off with far less fanfare and cupped Darryl’s cheek in his hand.

            “Why wouldn’t I be? We’ve done it enough times. Plus Grant went down to eat breakfast so he won’t be back for a bit.” Darryl squinted at him. “Uh, your pupils are like, really big right now? Are you sure you’re okay to do this?”

            “Hmm? Oh yes, yes, definitely,” the Library was salivating at the thought of tasting all that wonderful skin in front of him. Willing flesh, just waiting to be teased, reddened, touched, severed…

            Okay, maybe the Library was a teensy bit too hungry to be doing this, but he was sure he could hold back the worst of it. Things might get a little rough, but he didn’t want to scare the man off when for all the Library knew this could well be their last chance, or one of the last, he couldn’t afford to let it pass by.

            Pretense fleeing, the Library’s limbs all rushed toward Darryl’s chest at once, catching the man by surprise and pressing him down on his back before grabbing the hem of his pants and tugging them down in a swift motion. Already it was clear that the man was interested, a wet spot evident on the man’s briefs right at the tip of the adorable tent he was pitching in them.

            “Oh Darryl, I love you,” the Library moaned, his own genitals squirming as he lowered himself and raked the tip of his rough tongue over the fabric, tasting as much as he could while the material protected his sweet pet from the worst of the burn. The erection twitched and heated under the ministrations, and Darryl gasped and bucked up into the Library’s touch.

            “Shit! I-I like- I mean, I… god, I can’t…”

            “It’s fine, hush, you don’t have to say anything” the Library cooed, delicately pinching the elastic of the underwear and pulling these down too, shuffling back both to pull the material from Darryl’s ankles and to get a better view of the thick, throbbing cock that stood proudly beneath him.

            “I want to- I wish I- I wish I did,” Darryl groaned as the Library took his length into one of his elegant hands and worked him carefully, rubbing the tipped and then switching hands to bring the thumb covered in pre-cum to the monster’s mouth to suck it off. Darryl’s Adam’s apple visibly bobbed in his throat. “You’ll find someone else.”

            “But no one like you, my dear Darryl.”

            “There’s plenty of guys like me, you’ll find another one.”

            “There’s no one like you, Darryl. No one.” The Library’s sigh turned into a full-body tremor, which he steadied only by reaching down and shucking off his own trousers, running a limb along his own writhing appendage in time with the hand on Darryl’s. As soon as the man noticed what the Library was doing, he pushed himself up on his elbow and reached out, pushing the Library aside without a fight and taking hold of the squirming length himself. It was divine, and the Library could have wept openly. As it was, he realized with a lurch that he wasn’t going to be able to hold back.

            “Darryl, if you keep that up it’s going to do that thing you don’t like!”

            Darryl paused in his stroking, then doubled his efforts. “That’s fine. It’s not that weird.”

            The Library felt a laugh rise in his throat and he got up on his knees, leaning his forehead on Darryl’s shoulder as they worked each other’s cocks between them. “You’re perfect.” He could feel Darryl’s skin heat against him in a blush.

            “You’re… nice.”

            The Library’s grip tightened as he abruptly laughed hard enough to choke. A glob of slick saliva landed on Darryl’s chest and flowed down like a river. Oh wow, that was a lot. Maybe he shouldn’t be… no, this was fine. It was fine, Darryl didn’t seem to notice.

            “Nice? That’s a new one.”

            “You’ve been nice to me. I mean, under the circumstances, I guess.”

            “You’re easily won over, my pretty pet.”

            “Not your pet.”

            “No, not anymore,” the Library admitted, a pang in his belly as he got closer to the edge. “My pretty boy toy, then.” Almost there…

            “That’s not better. I- fuck!” Darryl yelped as the Library’s grip turned vice-like for a moment as his genitals blossomed, the skin peeling back and the green tendrils within grabbing Darryl’s wrist before he could fully pull away. They slid up his arm and drew him closer, nuzzling along his fingertips and trying desperately to pull him inside, to keep him, to love him. “Help?”

            “Oh, yes, sorry.” The Library’s hands moved in, distracting and peeling back the little heat-seeking tentacles as they rescued Darryl’s arm and returned it to him, feeling just a touch of disappointment as he let himself curl around his own fingers. “I can finish this part myself, you’re close as well, yes? We can come together, if you’d like.”

            “Wait, what you just did, that wasn’t an orgasm?”

            “Oh, it was, but I can get another one in with some attention. Perhaps you’d like to watch?”

            Darryl licked his lips absently as the Library started to stroke his erection again, this time while tangling and tugging on his own tendrils as well. He would be able to clearly see the movement, the gentle way they were trying to draw his fingers in amongst them.

            “Can you, uh, can you put stuff in it? Is there a hole in there?” Darryl was so red it was almost funny.

            “Oh, you most certainly can put ‘stuff’ in it.” The Library grinned, certain he looked rather feral if the bead of sweat that formed on Darryl’s temple was anything to go by. “Did you want to try putting your stuff in it, by chance?”

            Darryl glanced back down at the mass of tendrils that were now waving in his direction as though they understood the situation and wanted to tempt him in. Still, he looked hesitant. “Will I get it back, after?”

            The Library’s eyebrows rose into the picture of innocence. “But of course, Darryl! I’ve said before, I don’t gain much from biting your dick off, do I?”

            “It can BITE?”

            “No!” The Library said quickly, waving his limbs in front of him. “Just a joke! No teeth in there, I promise! The only thing is if you put it in, you won’t get it back until they’re finished with it. And that might take a bit longer than you’d want. But you will get it back.”

             “Right,” Darryl nibbled on his lip, clearly conflicted. “I mean, so what I’m thinking is, I’m not sure if I’m into it? But also if I don’t, I’m always gonna wonder what it would’ve been like? So… I don’t know.”

            “Hmm, you know what I think?”

            “What?”

            “I think you’re a big, brave barbarian and you aren’t going to let a wet little hole full of happy little tentacles stop you from having a good time.” Darryl laughed, and it came out as the cutest little giggle the Library had ever heard. Deeply encouraged, the monster pushed Darryl back against the bed again and hovered over him, pulling his hand from the tendrils easily enough as they sensed the presence of something far more exciting. The ends stretched out to caress the tip of Darryl’s cock with the most tender worship, and the man whined.

            “Okay, yes, I want it. Let’s do it. I mean, it’s not like it’ll feel bad right? …right?”

            “Right! Here we go!” the Library said as he let his body drop onto Darryl, and immediately his mouth opened into an ‘o’. His tendrils shook and slithered frantically first to get out of the way of the cock that speared into them without the warning and coaxing that they were used to. The shock made them over-sensitive, and for the Library it was like feeling Darryl’s cock a hundred times over, rubbing against every point of contact at once.

            Darryl himself had gone completely cross-eyed. The Library brushed a piece of hair out of his lover’s face and pressed the length of his body against him, letting Darryl get used to this wholly new sensation. It had been so long since the Library had a part of another being inside of him there, he had almost forgotten how intense it was. He couldn’t imagine what Darryl was going through.

            “How does it feel?” The Library asked breathlessly as he ever so carefully began to hump against Darryl’s crotch, enjoying the drag of the cock along his insides. Darryl made a couple unintelligible noises before he was able to find his words.

            “I-It’s like, fuck, it’s line a hand job and a blow job at the same time? It’s like there’s a mouth sucking, but there’s still… fingers? Only not fingers. Like a mouth full of worms? God that sounds gross. It’s nuts. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

            “And you never will again, Darryl. You’ll never find anyone like me again, either.”

            “Nope, never,” Darryl nodded along as the Library began to move in earnest, pulling out with his hips and then letting the tendrils wrapped around Darryl’s cock yank and force them back together again. Over and over unless Darryl shook and came with a shout.

            “That was- fuck. FUCK! Too sensitive, stop!” Darryl choked out but the Library didn’t stop. The tendrils held the spent cock out straight and continued to devour it over and over again, playing with the sensitive length as Darryl screamed and bucked and even tugged with his hands, but it was no use.

            “I-I told you, can’t stop, not till, oh fuck…” the Library moaned as his mouth dropped to Darryl’s neck and sucked hard, sure to leave a bright hickey where he landed. As the skin bruised, Darryl’s dick miraculously began to fill out again.

            “W-what the fuck, I didn’t think I could- oh my god. Oh no, not again, I can’t, I- SHIT!” Darryl howled as he came again, this time falling bonelessly against the mattress that rocked under them as the Library felt tension growing in his belly, both from the need to climax and something else, something more primal, hungrier.

            If the Library had held onto his proper state of mind, he might have realised how much of a problem this new sensation was. As it was, he could think of nothing but release, release and then… and then…

            The Library came with a roar, his mouth yawning open as all his tendrils shook and swelled at once, a burst of goo flooding out of him with enough force to eject the cock within him. The monster’s mind whited out in ecstasy.

 

            When he regained the capacity to think again, Darryl’s body was already mostly down the Library’s throat, feet kicking freely in the air as the monster swallowed him into his belly.

            “Oh, whoops,” the Library said, head light as he came down from his high. He could faintly hear Darryl swearing and moving around within him, and it was taking some time for him to realise why that might be more of a concern than it should be.

            The absolutely bone-shattering scream of terror and pain that followed brought the Library back to his senses however.

            “No,” the Library said, eyes wide as he wrenched his mouth open as far as he could before sending a cascade of arms down his throat to try and hold his gullet open as the walls collapsed inward, his fingertips burning themselves on the stomach acid already leaking from the lining.

            “Darryl, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I can’t control it! Where are you? Find my hand! Darryl!”

            “GET ME OUT OF HERE! Get help! GET HELP!”

            The voice was getting more muffled even as the Library fought with all his might to get control of his digestive system back. He flailed until he fell off the bed and crawled to the door on his hands, still trying desperately to hold his stomach apart as he burst through the bedroom door to the landing and screamed for help louder than he had ever screamed before.

*

            Glenn and Nick had just gotten back in the foyer when the door to the master bedroom burst open and a fucking horror show came screaming through it.

            “HELP! SOMEONE HELP!” The grotesquely stretched out flesh monster screamed in the Library’s voice, shockingly clear for someone with a dozen arms down their own throat. Under that was what sounded like more yelling, Darryl’s.

            Grant came running into the foyer from the dining room first, followed by Henry and Ron. The Library started trying to explain what was happening as the humans hurried toward him.

            “Darryl’s trapped in my stomach. I lost control, he’s stuck, I need to get him out but I’m so hungry, my stomach keeps moving him away! I-it’s trying to digest him. I don’t want to digest Darryl, too!” The Library was sobbing as he clawed at his insides.

            Henry was the first to come up with something, summoning vines to lob down the Library’s throat but they were crushed and dissolved instantly. Only Darryl’s continued screams told them that he was still alive in there, in some state.

            Grant had stood by hyperventilating as all his nightmares were coming true at once, only to suddenly shriek, “Water! Shove water in him, if you drink too much water at once you throw up!”

            “Ah, uh, but where do we get that much water? Should I find Scam?”

            “Yes, go get Scam, Ron.” Henry nodded and Ron took off at a run. “I don’t have any water-making spells! Glenn, do you know any, uh, bard stuff? We gotta hurry!”

            “Uh,” Glenn had been standing back with Nick, completely out of his depth at the suddenness of the situation. “I-I don’t know. I… I could try to do some kind of, uh, r-rain song? I dunno if that would do anything.”

            “Dad, you gotta try! Darryl’s getting eaten!” Nick snapped as Glenn shivered and ran into the master bedroom to grab his guitar from the corner. When he got back the Library was shuddering, and Darryl’s voice had gone quiet, and Nick was holding his knife again.

            “What if I fuck this up, too?” Glenn whispered, fingers hesitant on the strings.

            Nick held up a fist and Glenn stared at it. “I can accept that. Long as you tried, you know? And who gives a shit what these narcs think.” He held his knife tighter. “And if you can’t do it, I’ll cut that thing open with this bad boy!”

            “God you’re so cool,” Glenn shook his head, completing the fist bump. “Even if you do like Universal Studios.”

            Then Glenn played a long C-chord, there was a bright flash of light, and Glenn was suddenly filled with the most tender, powerful, flowing sense of euphoria he had ever felt before in his life.

            From Glenn’s perspective, it was as though the whole room had become a tableaux bathed in shades of blue. Ron was still running away across the room. Grant was on his knees, covering his face. Henry was looking at Glenn, mouth hanging open on a shout Glenn had been ignoring. The Library was heaving, looking more like a mixed up mass of body parts than any kind of person as he tried desperately to get Darryl out of himself.

            Nick stood beside him, still in full colour, still breathing in real time but staring at him like he’d never seen him before.

            “Uh, I think I found water,” Nick said after a second. Glenn moved to run a hand through his hair and found something gelatinous and sopping.

            “D-do you think it’ll work?”

            “Try it,” Nick shrugged. Glenn shrugged back, and started playing the opening chords of Smoke on the Water.

            The floating, shimmering tendrils of water that his hair had become grew from his head like a cascading wave, and launched themselves into the Library’s throat like a geyser.

            Time resumed, but what followed wasn’t pretty. The Library looked like he was collapsing in on himself as Darryl was grasped by Glenn’s… water? Hair? Whatever. The water was able to move faster and more nimbly than fingers. Darryl’s body was yanked from the Library’s throat and left to splatter on the floor.

            “Holy crap! Glenn can use Daddy Magic!” Henry was freaking out as Grant fell on his dad, who was clearly covered in acid burns but breathing. His son was frantically healing as much of the surface wounds as possible as the Library slowly started shambling around, trying to put his body back into something closer to his usual form. “Ron, you were right! Paeden was a magic feather! We can use Daddy Magic without him around after all! Or maybe we needed to have him around at first, but now we don’t? Wait, you don’t think Paeden’s actually here, do you? How the heck did this happen?”

            Glenn’s knees shook under him, and the last thing he heard was Ron’s voice saying bluntly:

            “Wow, Glenn actually did something for once.”

            “Fucking harsh dude,” Glenn mumbled as he blacked out.

Chapter 25: Errand

Summary:

The gang deal with the aftermath of the Library's 'accident', and then split the party to go on an errand to retrieve a useful item.

Then things go horribly wrong.

Notes:

Wow guys, wasn't episode 50 fun? That was such a measure once cut twice moment at the end there from Glenn.

ANYWAY, in this chapter we got a little vore, a bunch of gore, and dealing with normal relationship problems such as "how to deal with the fact your boyfriend might literally not be able to stop eating you to death".

25 Errand  

            To say things had gotten a little awkward between Darryl and the Library after that was an understatement. It seemed that the Library had become hesitant over touching his former pet, even the few times that Darryl would raise a shaking hand to touch one of those long limbs the monster would pull away. Not that Darryl was trying very hard either. The incident was still incredibly fresh in both of their minds.

            On the part of the Library, the source of the fear was obvious. He had lost control of himself entirely. There were explanations for it, of course. Even Scam brought up that ravenous hunger was natural enough after healing from near-death. He had already absorbed his own books after all, and as far as Scam was concerned the Library was just an idiot for thinking it would be fine to fuck his human while hungry and overestimated what his self-control would be like post-orgasm. In a way that was true, but in cold reality, the Library had to admit that as soon as he had Darryl wrapped around him, the second he spoke the word that he was willing, the Library had been completely helpless to resist. It was far better, then, at least until the Library felt confident that his hunger was sated that he avoided Darryl’s touch as much as he craved it. Really, the more he craved it the better it was to avoid.

            He had, of course, explained as much to Darryl. There wasn’t really a point in keeping it secret, and he didn’t want Darryl to think he’d done something wrong to warrant avoidance. He also needed to drive home the point that he found it a lot easier to resist Darryl and his mouth-watering body if he kept a distance. Needless to say, they hadn’t spent any time alone together in the couple of days following where the Library occasionally stumbled off into the woods in search of ‘lesser flesh’ and to try and meditate and ‘rebind’ some of the literature that had been lost inside him.

            Darryl, meanwhile, tried to convince himself that everything was fine. At first, it had been kind of great, even. He’d fantasized more than a few times about the Library swallowing him again in the wake of climax, and the tight warmth was so familiar and comforting in that firm moment that he had even laughed, eyes fluttering as he felt ready for a light post-coitus nap. He had tried to kick around the yielding walls to get more comfortable, but they hadn’t yielded.

            They had gotten tighter. And then they had started to burn.

            After that everything was a blur of pain, and he heard the Library screaming all around him. As the stomach bore down on him hard enough that he heard something give and crack, he could glimpse waving limbs and a light somewhere much further above him than he would have thought, but whenever one would get anywhere near him the stomach floor beneath dropped out and he would fall deeper.

            Then a torrent of water hit him, and as he was already gasping for breath he inhaled. He thought in a wild, terrified moment he was about to die in a flood of stomach acid.

            And then he had woken up, surrounded by worried faced. Grant’s face was close and trembling, hands still glowing with magic. Scam and Henry stood by with a similar glow about them. He asked what was going on, and everyone tripped over themselves to recount what they knew.

            It took a while for Darryl to get the story straight. Obviously, he was glad he was out of there, that he had lived and that his injuries weren’t really that bad. They had to fix a couple broken ribs, a bunch of acid burns, and generally had to pull a bunch of water from his lungs. But as far as injuries in a magical world went he wouldn’t even have a scar to show for it. Physically, no one would be hurt in any lasting way.

            The Library’s announcement that Darryl shouldn’t touch him anymore left Darryl unsure how he felt. He had grown to enjoy holding and being held by the monster, and he could hesitantly admit to that under questioning. Being told he couldn’t do it anymore felt like a loss. One more person who drew away from him. Even after that admittedly horrifying experience, Darryl wasn’t scared of the Library now. Maybe some of that was seeing just how shaken the monster himself was at what had almost happened, but whatever the case, Darryl wasn’t happy about the premature end to whatever semblance of a relationship they had.

            But he also believed that the Library would know himself better than Darryl did. If the monster said touching him right now would be dangerous, Darryl would have to be a total idiot to ignore that. Besides, he wasn’t in the habit of touching someone who specifically asked him not to touch them. Not to mention the fact that, with the team back together and the promise of Daddy Magic still potentially being at their fingertips, it was likely that one more rescue attempt would be all they needed to save Lark, Sparrow, and Terry Junior. After that it was back to earth anyway, so Darryl was going to have to deal with missing the Library’s touch sooner or later. Grant seemed pleased that they weren’t touching anymore, anyway.

            To say Darryl didn’t sulk at all over the situation wouldn’t be true, but he did try to focus on the thing everyone else seemed to think was the more important part of this incident, which was the fact that Glenn had managed to unlock his form of Daddy Magic without Paeden around.

            “Yeah man, I can’t explain it, but it was a rush, heh,” Glenn was leaning back in his seat around the kitchen table where the entire group had gathered to strategize. The Library hadn’t had any more loss of control in two days and he claimed his personal book collection had regrown at least a few volumes, but he still didn’t feel comfortable touching Darryl again.

            “But it doesn’t make sense!” Henry said, far from the first time. “Darryl said that when he unlocked his Daddy Magic, the power seemed to come from Paeden! Which we figured made sense, because Willy had to have had him around originally for a reason, but if he couldn’t get him to unlock the magic for him he would get rid of him. I mean, there’s a few problems with that of course. I mean, well, why wouldn’t he just kill him? Why leave him at a Bull E. Wugs? Oh man, I’ve got some theories, and maybe we can discuss those, but-”

            “I have a theory,” Ron chimed, raising his hand politely. “Um, maybe my dad doesn’t uh, d-doesn’t want to kill anyone?”

            Everyone looked at Ron with looks varying from incredulity to pity.

            “Or maybe not…” he mumbled, sinking down in his seat so only the top of his head was visible.

            “I would posit that none of that really matters?” Scam suggested. “The point is, clearly you don’t need him. Great news I’d say, from what you’ve told me it seems like as long as you can use that power, getting the rest of the kids out should be a breeze.”

            “Only if they find a way to summon it at will,” the Library pointed out listlessly. He was sitting on the opposite end of the long table from Darryl and kept sending the human sad, longing looks and then turning away when Darryl would glance back. Grant was observing this with all the irritation he felt the situation warranted, which was a fuck ton.

            “That’s true,” Darryl nodded, frowning when the Library looked away from him yet again. “I mean, I really thought I understood it with Paeden there. Grant and I trusted each other, Paeden glowed and yelled about trust, I got fire powers, and when Paeden was gone I lost them. So I figure it’s just, when a father and son trust each other, Paeden’s got this ability to give a Daddy Magic power up! But uh, he wasn’t there when Glenn did it.”

            “We did trust each other, though,” Nick pointed out, hand stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Maybe that’s really all you need?”

            “Probably also a danger element,” Grant said flatly, still irritated. “Dad got his powers first when he was saving Lark and Sparrow even though I wasn’t there, though I guess it wasn’t as strong?”

            “I was thinking about you, though!” Darryl interjected.

            “Yeah, you said. And then obviously when Glenn did it you were in danger. Also, it’s possible that Paeden going away wasn’t why you lost your power up. Willy left to, so the danger was gone. Maybe it’s just trust plus danger.”

            “Makes sense to me!” Scam said with a flat, emotionless grin spread over his face. He had been sitting next to Glenn but hadn’t touched him or even looked at him once since they sat down which was unusual. “Sounds like it’ll be a dangerous situation, so all you kiddies gotta do is get in there, get in trouble and trust your daddies will save you and boom, everything’s gonna be alright!”

            “I don’t know, that sounds too easy,” Henry frowned. “I still think we need a plan before we go back to Ravenloft that isn’t necessarily dependant on us figuring out how to make these mysterious powers work.”

            “What plan?” Scam snorted. “We don’t have anything going in this time we didn’t the first two other than that magic. Far as I can assume, they’ll have another barrier to break. They know about the secret passages Ron used so we’d basically either have to launch a direct assault or else just sneak around openly in the corridors, which honestly will probably also lead to a direct assault at some point anyway. I’d normally say we could scam our way in but that’s going to prove tricky after breaking in twice already. They’ll be expecting us to try again, so they might well set a trap this time.”

            “Maybe…” Henry looked at Glenn. “Hey Glenn, you’ve been pretty quiet, and you’re our idea guy! Are you thinking anything?”

            Glenn winced. “Uh, yeah, I have an idea but like… it’s not… I don’t think we should try it.”

            “Why not?” asked Darryl.

            “I know it’s gonna sound weird coming from me, but I uh, I think it might be too dangerous.”

            Henry’s eyebrows flew up to his hairline. “Wow Glenn, I’m surprised but I’m really proud of you for making that call and deciding we shouldn’t do it.”

            “Wait, dad, what was the idea?” Nick asked but Glenn waved him off.

            “Doesn’t matter, you’re not doing it.”

            “I’m not doing it?”

            Glenn flushed. “I mean we’re not- it’s nothing. Forget it.”

            “Dad, don’t be a narc!”

            “I’m not a narc!” Glenn looked scandalized.

            “Are too!”

            “Am not!”

            “Are too,” Scam muttered, folding his arms. Glenn’s eyes narrowed and he finally looked at Scam.

            “I’m not a narc just cause I decided to go back to Earth!”

            “To get a real job that isn’t scamming,” Scam muttered petulantly, not meeting Glenn’s eyes.

            Nick cleared his throat. “Okay, whatever, never mind.”

            “So we’re just going to walk in?” Ron asked. “That doesn’t sound like a very good plan to either me or Terry the Rat. Seems like a lot could go wrong?”

            “Maybe we could test them out somehow?” Darryl immediately winced. “I don’t know if putting someone in danger is a great idea though.”

            “I quite agree,” the Library said firmly.

            They talked in circles for a while before giving up and saying they’d take a break to think about it and come back fresh in a couple of hours. By the time they came back from milling around Scam’s house (Darryl beat Glenn to shit at the air hockey table Scam made for them, although Glenn insisted Scam had been cheating for Darryl because he was still pissed off), no one could really think of any better ideas and that fact weighed on them heavily.

            “I wish I could call Mercedes,” Henry sighed. “She would’ve been able to think of something.”

            “Carol could have too,” Darryl said dully. He rolled his eyes at the Library’s look. “She’s smart!”

            “Samantha probably would know how Terry Junior would want to be rescued…” Ron said sullenly. “Or maybe Beth May could’ve figured it out. Maybe they did a rescue like this in Buffy the Vampire Slayer once?”

            “Wait, why don’t we just call them?” Darryl asked. “I mean, our phones still work, right?”

            “Mine’s dead,” Glenn said flatly.

            “So was mine,” Henry sighed, “Not that it would’ve mattered since my dad took it away when I was c-captured. They took the boys’ phones too, right?”

            “Yeah,” Grant grunted and Nick nodded silently.

            “I had mine when I first got stuck in the walls, but um, I guess I dropped it at some point and I couldn’t find it so…”

            Darryl grimaced. “And I haven’t seen mine since Ravenloft, so I guess I dropped it, too.”

            “Huh? No, I picked it up with you in Ravenloft. It was still in your pocket when I regurgitated you at home,” the Library said idly.

            “And what, you just took it?” Grant asked, cocking an eyebrow. The Library spread his hands wordlessly.

            “Well, in my defense, he didn’t ask where it was nor ask for it back, so was it wrong to think he didn’t care about it?” The resounding chorus of yeses was waved away by a multitude of limbs. “Alright, fine, I stole your phone.”

            “Okay, but where is it now?” Darryl winced. “Oh god, it wasn’t inside you when you digested everything, was it?”

            “Oh no, it’s back at the keep near Eroville. I tucked it away for safe keeping, I figured there might be a use for it later. Rare technology around here and all that.”

            “Alright, so we can just go to the Library’s keep, get Darryl’s phone, and call our wives!” Henry grinned. Then the grin fell. “Uh, not that I know how far that is…”

            “Not that far,” Scam shrugged. “And I still got your van so it’s less than a day away for you. But I don’t really see the point in going for that thing. Sure it can make out of universe calls, but I doubt that any of your wives know how to assault a magic castle any better than we do.”

            Glenn suddenly had a gleam in his eye, one that the other dads knew well and they already had their attention on him before he even opened his mouth. “Nah, we need to get that phone.”

            “Why?” Scam asked in a flat voice. He was looking at Glenn sourly, but Glenn wasn’t looking back.

            “Communication. Scam can’t call Earth, but he can call our cell phones, right?”

            “Yeah, I’m right here, you can look at me when you’re talking about me, narc.”

            “I’m not a-! Whatever, you can do that, right?”

            “Technically…” Scam drew out, still scowling.

            “So if we get Darryl’s cell phone, we’re more versatile, right? We can have two different groups that can attack from two different points and stay in contact and warn if something goes wrong.”

            “Good point,” the Library nodded, standing from the table. “In that case, I’ll head out and get it right away.”

            “I’ll come too,” Darryl said quickly standing as well.

            “No,” the Library said just as fast.

            Darryl narrowed his eyes. “Someone has to drive the van.”

            “I can walk.”

            “Too slow.”

            “Too dangerous! Darryl, I-”

            “I’m not going to try and touch you, you already said-”

            “Well, if I’m stuck at close quarters with you for a long period of time, I might lose control again! Darryl, you could have died!”

            “And you could have, too!” Darryl was shouting, everyone was looking at him but he didn’t care. “Look, I know you’re scared of what you did! Hell, I’m scared of what you did too, since I was the one who was almost fucking eaten to death! But who’s to say the grandads aren’t out there looking for us right now to finish us off? You can’t go out there alone! If Willy hits you again like last time you’ll die, and I don’t want you to die, okay? So I’m going!”

            The Library folded several limbs and pursed his lips. “Well, well, well. Shoe’s on the other foot now, hm?”

            “Library…”

            “Fine. But we can’t be alone together. Someone else needs to chaperone.”

            “I-” Glenn looked ready to volunteer, but a glance at Nick made him back down. “I don’t care, I’m sticking with Nick.” His son’s shocked expression didn’t comfort him exactly but at least he was pretty sure he made the right choice there.

            “Well I can’t go with all these people in my house. It might start getting um… less than hospitable,” Scam shrugged.

            “I’ll go.”

            “No, Grant!”

            “Why not?!”

            “Because as adept as you are becoming with magic, I doubt you could pull me off your father if I had him halfway down my throat,” the Library said sharply. “It should be Henry. God knows he’s enough of a mood killer.”

            “Me?” Henry blinked. “Oh gosh, well, I suppose that does make the most sense given the options... wait, I’m not a mood killer!”

            The Library shrugged, an impressive sight whenever it happened. “So, agreed? Let’s go.”

            “What, right now?” Henry blinked, still in his chair as the Library and Darryl were already at the door.

            “Did you want to wait around while your dad still has his hands on your kids?” Darryl asked sharply and Henry nearly jumped.

            “N-no, sorry, it’s just sudden. I’m coming.”

            “Um, should I come too?”

            “Oh yeah, hey guys! Shouldn’t Ron come too?”

            “Why?” the Library asked, blinking slowly.

            Ron blinked equally slowly. “Well wouldn’t it be awkward if it’s just you guys and Henry? What’s he gonna do when you guys are making love?”

            Darryl and the Library glanced at each other, and then stared at Ron.

            “Ron’s staying here,” Darryl said finally.

            “Agreed.”

            “What? Why?” Ron looked very confused as Henry gave him a quick goodbye hug.

            “Sorry Ron, maybe next time.”

            “What did I do?”

            “Bye, Ron!” Darryl yelled, already out the door.

*

            The journey to the Library’s keep was pretty uneventful. Darryl drove, and after a brief argument the Library folded himself into the passenger seat on the grounds that ‘he was the only one who knew the directions’ and ‘if you’re so worried about needing someone to watch you it’s easier to watch you in the front seat anyway’.

            The Library couldn’t say he was overjoyed at sitting so close to Darryl in a confined space when he knew he couldn’t trust himself to touch him (his insides still ached, animal flesh wasn’t enough, he would have to travel to another town with overdue books soon and this time he might not have the ability to be merciful). That said, given that their time together was growing shorter by the day there was something nice about being able to trail his eyes over the man in beside him over the hours without real reason to stop.

            If Henry hadn’t been there, the drive would’ve likely been quiet and full of unspoken longing. But because Henry was there, and absolutely abhorred what he perceived as an awkward silence, quiet just wasn’t going to happen.

            “So, hate to have to ask this, but have you two talked at all about the whole near death experience thing you had the other day?” Henry asked as he leaned his head almost into the front seat. The Library rolled his eyes and used a limb to swiftly push Henry’s face back where it came from.

            “Yes, we spoke, and decided it was best not to try any more sex while I’m still hungry and, apparently, not as recovered as one would think.”

            Darryl whined. “Come on, don’t tell him about the sex…”

            Henry tutted. “Darryl, we’re all grown men here! Well, unless the Library isn’t a man, I shouldn’t assume. But anyway, my point is, you can feel comfortable discussing aspects of your sex life with other people! Not in detail of course, but you know, it’s been pretty obvious that you two have been doing stuff, especially when you came out on the floor naked and the Library was naked and screaming… anyway, it’s not a big deal! I’m not going to judge you for choosing to have sex with a Euclidian monster! I mean, sure, some aspects of this situation seem kind of unhealthy but I’m rooting for you two. You’ve been doing much better lately from what I’ve seen!”

            Darryl was bright red and silent, so the Library figured he had to answer. “Well, thank you Henry, but seeing as this adventure is going to end with Darryl returning to Earth and not spending the rest of his natural life naked in my kitchen, I don’t see any reason why you should bothering ‘rooting’ for us.”

            Henry actually fell quiet for a second. Only a second, though. “Okay, well, that’s a tough one for sure. But just because things are long distance, that doesn’t necessarily mean it has to end!”

            The Library finally turned in his seat to give Henry a skeptical look. “This isn’t just moving across the country. You live in a different universe with a different time stream and all the difficulties involved with dimension hopping.”

            “I know that! But, well, I found out recently that I was from Faerun originally! And I’m a quarter elf too, which is pretty cool honestly, and I can’t wait to tell Mercedes that. But my point is that I’ll bet if you two really want to try to move past what happened and try to make things work, there might be a way! We already know that cell phones work across dimensions, and it seems like time in our world moves slower but Library, you’re uh, well you live longer than humans anyway, right?”

            “Yes…”

            “Right! So I figure, well, just spit balling here if I may, what if we went back home through a portal, got a phone with a solar charger, and brought it back here for you before going back for good? You and Darryl could call and talk, and depending on how the portals work, he could come for visits! A couple weeks here and it’d be less than an hour on Earth!”

            “That’s… that’s true!” Darryl finally spoke up and glanced at the Library. The monster was surprised to see that he actually looked excited by the prospect. “I never thought about that! I mean, it’s not the same thing as staying but it’d be cool to visit you and the other folks over here. I mean, I sure don’t want to see the last of Paeden either, you know?”

            “Well unless Paeden is eternally stuck as an eight year old, which he might be actually since we still aren’t sure what he is, that would be tricky,” the Library pointed out, “I don’t know how long you plan to wait for a visit, but considering months have passed here while hours have passed on Earth, even if you come back in a week’s time many years will have passed. Paeden may be grown up, and if you were to wait longer, he could be older than you. Or, well…”

            The Library bit his lip as he saw the excitement in Darryl’s eyes die as quickly as it sparked. “Oh, didn’t think of that either… you’d still be around though?”

            “Can’t see why I wouldn’t be. As I’ve said, I’m pretty hard to kill. And I age pretty slowly too, as you might imagine.”

            Darryl bit his lip. “Well, we don’t know if it would work anyway.”

            “But it might!” Henry piped up from the back seat.

            “It might,” Darryl agreed. He glanced back at the Library, appearing almost shy. “I-if it did, would you… would you want me to come back and visit? Or uh, bring you a cell phone or whatever.”

            It was more than the Library had been able to hope for in the last few days, and a tight gasp of air choked him up as he fought back watering eyes. “Y-yes Darryl, of course I’d want you to visit. If you can, that is.”

            “Okay, then if I can, I will.”

            “Aw, see? Now this is healthy, consensual communication about wants and needs in a relationship! You guys are doing so well!”

            “Shut up, Henry.” The Library groaned, though froze when he saw Darryl’s delicious right hand abruptly in front of him, palm up. “D-Darryl?”

            “Just hold it,” Darryl said stiffly, wiggling his fingers invitingly. Those wonderful, pudgy, soft fingers. The Library swallowed hard, saliva dripping down the back of his throat.

            “I-I’m not sure if I should…”

            “Come on, Henry’s right there. It’s fine.”

            The Library knew just looking at that hand in front of his face make him feel famished. But it also made his pulse race for another reason. He really did miss touching Darryl after all. Besides, it was cramped in there, Darryl was in his seat, and surely it wouldn’t be that hard to not put the man’s fingers in his mouth, right?

            So he gently used one of his hands to lace their fingers together and exhaled shakily as he stared at where they joined. He squeezed delicately, enjoying the way the meat gave beneath his grip. So soft… juicy…

            “See? It’s fine!” Darryl said, sounding quite confident as he drove one-handed down the dirt road.

            “This is nice!” Henry agreed from the back seat. “I guess the Library was overreacting, but who could really blame him after what happened, right? Anyway, I guess everything’s going to be just fi-”

            “AH, FUCK!” Darryl screamed and swerved hard on the road as the Library had shoved his hand in his mouth and bit it clean off.

            “AH! BREAK! BREAK!” Henry screamed, and by some miracle Darryl at least managed to throw his foot on the break, the stump of his arm fumbling for the gear shift automatically before hitting it and clearly sending a rip of pain right up Darryl’s arm. Henry jumped and threw his own hand into the front seat to move the van into park.

            The Library had covered his mouth with many of his own limbs as he chewed and swallowed, eyes blazing and yet wide, a strange mix of bloodlust and terror. Then he was scrambling for the door handle and spilled himself out of the van onto the ground, shivering as Henry got out of the car and ran around to the front to at least cauterize the bleeding and stop the pain.

            A few minutes later, Darryl and Henry were standing over the Library, who was sitting on the grass with blood dribbling down his chin, looking a very sorry sight indeed.

            “What the hell was that?” Darryl asked after it became clear the Library wasn’t going to say anything. He brandished his stump for good measure.

            “I’m sorry,” the Library mumbled, tracing a circle in the dirt with his finger and not looking up.

            “Well, give it back then,” Darryl said as he waved the stump again. The Library finally looked up with a grim expression.

            “I can try but that may be dangerous, too.”

            “Listen Mister, you can’t just go around taking hands and not giving them back! Dangerous or not, we’re going to need all hands on deck for this, so to speak. Also the van doesn’t have any modifications for one handed driving, so driving it like this would be pretty unsafe.”

            “Yes well, considering in order to restore Darryl’s hand I need to use my tongue on it, and I apparently couldn’t even hold your hand in MY hand without stuffing my face, there may be a worse outcome.”

            Henry and Darryl both made a face at that statement.

            “Er, what happens if we uh, wait to get it back? Will you digest it?” Darryl asked.

            “Probably.”

            Darryl huffed. “Well I want my hand back so,” he plunked himself on the ground in front of the Library and held his arm out. “I’ll risk it. Try.”

            “Uh, I don’t know if that’s a great idea, Darryl,” Henry fretted, “I mean, the Library had a good point about how he lost control, and I mean, is having only one hand that bad?”

            “It is when your only power is punching things,” Darryl said with a frown, though he looked the Library in the eye. He pressed his lips into a hard line for a moment as he waited for the monster to move. When he didn’t, Darryl let out an irritated sigh. “Look, I know that didn’t go well. Maybe that’s kind of my fault. You told me not to offer to touch you, and I did anyway. But even if it’s stupid, I still trust you to do this if you buckle down, man up-”

            “That’s sexist!”

            “God, Henry… fine, monster up and put my fucking hand back on. Okay?”

            The Library looked at the stump and lowered a hand to rest on his belly. The flesh of the hand was still in there, churning and dissolved but not yet absorbed. Still salvageable mostly, he could definitely reshape it. “Alright Darryl. But Henry, stand on guard. If my tongue starts pulling him in…” he shut his eyes and then his entire head began vibrating.

            Then he sneezed, and a pamphlet came flying out of his nose. It landed wetly on the ground at Henry’s feet and the druid hesitantly picked it up, shaking off the worst of the mucus.

            “How to… how to kill the Library?” Henry’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “No, I’m not going to do that!”

            “Well, strictly speaking, I’d rather you do the thing on page three with the spell that cuts my tongue off. But if the worst happens and I kill Darryl I’ll have to kill myself after anyway, so I’d rather Darryl survived at least.”

            Darryl baulked. “What do you mean you’d have to kill yourself after?”

            The Library looked at Darryl with a tiny smile. “I told you Darryl, even if I’ve freed you from your servitude, you’re still mine. Just like my books. But unlike my books which I can reabsorb into me and still consider them, ah, not necessarily destroyed, if I ate you then you would die and be completely unrecoverable. I would have to punish myself as I would any other. There must be a punishment for destroying Library property.”

            “Biting my hand off doesn’t count?”

            “Your hand isn’t you, Darryl. You are you. So. Henry, you are prepared to act as necessary?”

            “Y-yes. I think so?”

            “Darryl, you’re ready to get your hand back?”

            The man sat in front of him appeared to still be processing the situation but nodded all the same, arm still extended. The Library gave a steady inhale and exhale, and then released his tongue. “Well, let’s give it a go!”

            The end of the tongue wrapped around the end of Darryl’s arm several times over as the Library concentrated very, very hard on doing the opposite of immediately drawing that sweet flesh into his mouth. Sweat beaded all over his body, even his rough tongue as he forced every little bit of Darryl flesh in his body to parade itself delicately out of his mouth and down his tongue in a horrible, foul-smelling ooze that collected itself within the coils of the rough muscle and began to reform with a burning sensation. Darryl’s breathing picked up in tempo as his hand was melded back together.

            “Pain’s mental, pain’s mental, pain’s mental…” Darryl was chanting to himself through gritted teeth as the Library worked. After several agonizing minutes, the Library’s tongue flew back and coiled itself into his open mouth. Darryl sat red-faced as he clutched his raw and blistered, though whole, right hand.

            “That felt so much worse than last time,” Darryl panted and the Library shrugged helplessly.

            “It took more effort, too. Though, the fact I was able to do it at all bodes well for my recovery! Now let’s get back on the… on the um… wow, I’m actually kind of dizzy after that…” and then the Library fell backwards and landed heavily on the ground, snoring.

            “Oh geez, is he okay?”

            Darryl sighed and reached down to scoop the monster up. He was heavier now without the old-man body and his newly fixed hand still hurt like a bitch, but Darryl was strong. “Get the hatch open, we’ll lay him down in the back and ask for directions at the next village.”

*

            Eventually the Library woke up in the back of the van, groggy but more or less back to normal, or as normal as it got these days. It was excellent timing, since they had just passed through Eroville and Darryl was easily making his way up the long road to the castle.

            Darryl was glad the Library was okay, obviously. He was also glad he got his hand back. Henry had even managed to heal the blisters while the Library was passed out. However, something was making him feel uneasy.

            They hadn’t stopped in Eroville, but the whole village had looked strangely barren as they’d gone through. Darryl knew they were rebuilding it after the Library’s “accident”, but it seemed like the place looked more razed than it should’ve this long after the rebuild started. Not to mention there weren’t many people in the streets, and certainly no one working on any of the half-demolished buildings. The marketplace that the Library had taken him to all that time ago seemed to be gone entirely.

            The road up to the castle felt off as well. The air was warm so Darryl had the windows down and was treated to the sound of… nothing. He didn’t hear any birds, or rustling branches. He didn’t see any animals on the sides of the road, though that might be chalked up to the noise from the van driving them off. Still, something felt off.

            “Something feels off,” said the Library from the back of the van.

            “Oh yeah, you don’t usually sleep, do you?” Henry asked, “Darryl said something like that before. Does your head feel funny?”

            “No, I think something’s wrong too. It’s too quiet.” Darryl slowed the car as the drawbridge of the keep came into view. “Uh, can you get the bridge down?”

            The Library looked dubious in the rear view mirror, but raised a few of his limbs and nodded. “Open!” the Library called clearly, and the bridge shuddered and began to lower, the end reaching the ground in front of the van with a gentle thud.

            So far that seemed pretty normal. The van swayed as it climbed the lip of the bridge and rumbled along it and into the castle courtyard. Darryl parked and looked around. His half-started herb garden looked long-dead, the open door of the black smith workshop showed Darryl’s half-finished table sitting inside. The place looked untouched, which made sense, given that the place wasn’t supposed to open to anyone other than the Library. And, maybe, Scam.

            “Alright, so, where did you leave the phone?” Darryl asked.

            “I tucked it away in one of the out buildings. Can’t remember which offhand, but if I look at them I’m sure I’ll figure it out.”

            Darryl rolled his eyes, but at least that should be easy enough to find. “Okay, I guess we’ll go grab it and we can start heading back.”

            The Library scoffed. “That was a long drive, Darryl, you have to be exhausted. We can stay the night and head back tomorrow, surely. You can even call Scam to let him know, and there should still be some edible food left in the kitchen.”

            “I guess,” Darryl sighed as he got out of the car, followed by Henry and the Library easily enough. In the cool air of early evening, the castle seemed even more run down than Darryl remembered. It felt emptier. They really had been gone for a while.

            “This is where you were all this time, huh?” Henry asked.

            “Yeah.”

            “It’s weird, feels like a lot of people died here.”

            The Library made an odd noise and straightened up tall enough to tower over the two men. “That’s what it is! Necrotic magic! The air’s thick with it, how did I not notice?”

            “I have no idea, but if you were going to be a fucking idiot and walk right into a trap I wasn’t going to stop you.”

            Darryl’s blood turned to ice as all three men looked up, up, up to the top of the castle wall where Willy Stampler stood flanked by two hooded figures, one tall and one short. Maybe Barry and Bill, but the Library had been sure Bill was dead and Henry had said Barry might be too. The necromancer grinned down at them as the drawbridge slammed shut behind them, and the ground rumbled beneath them as the shorter hooded figure raised its arms and the thud of footsteps started to approach from all directions.

Darryl turned on the spot, expecting more skeletons. The overwhelming stench of death that proceeded the corpses that began shambling out of the surrounding courtyard buildings told them that this army of the dead was a lot… fresher.

            “You know, I should probably just kill you guys right now and add you to my army. But I’m thinking I might run a little test first.”

            “Test? What does he mean by that?” Henry asked in a hushed voice, sweating visibly as the staggering zombies closed in around them. The Library seemed to be trying to look everywhere at once, instinctively grabbing Darryl’s arm only to second guess himself and drop it. He looked between Willy Stampler and the zombies for a moment before putting himself bodily between the former and his prized human.

            “Darryl, you wouldn’t happen to be able to activate your Daddy Magic now, would you?” the Library asked, a nervous lilt to his voice.

            “Uh,” Darryl shut his eyes and tried. He thought of his son, thought about trusting his son, thought about how much he wanted to get back to him, to save the other kids… anything.

Nothing happened. He opened his eyes and shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to fight the old fashioned way.”

            Seeing as Willy had yet to act, Darryl decided to strike first. When one of the zombies, who unfortunately looked like she was probably some innocent villager while she was alive, got close enough Darryl reeled back and punched her in the jaw. The jaw immediately flew off and landed on the ground nearby leaving the tongue to flop down against the zombie’s neck like a grotesque tie, but the corpse didn’t stop, grabbing Darryl’s arm and pulling him in towards it’s awful decomposing face.

            “Little help?!” Darryl gasped looking over his shoulder first at Henry who was doing a little better with using magic missile at a distance to blow heads off.

            “I’ve got it!” the Library said loudly, abandoning his post of staring down Willy in order to launch his tongue at the corpse, wrapping around it twice before tugging it mercilessly into his yawning mouth. The crunch of bones was both very audible and rather horrific, but Darryl breathed a sigh of relief none of the less as the Library licked his lips. “Oh yes, that actually… that was quite good! Ooh, I’ve been famished for so long!”

            “Yeah? Well looks like you’ve got a buffet,” Darryl snorted as he shut his eyes to build up a different kind of power. “Stupid zombies, stupid grandads thinking they can just attack out of nowhere, take over my house, gonna…” he growled under his breath as his rage built and he felt his muscles harden and bulk slightly as he summoned Ancestral Rage.

            Immediately from the ground rose four ghostly figures of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Coach Taylor and Frank Wilson.

            Darryl looked at his dad beside him and smile wryly. Then he looked at George Washington and frowned.

            “Yeah, sorry bud, slavery isn’t cool,” he said, and George Washington vanished. The other three looked at Darryl for instruction and Darryl was about to tell them to attack the zombie hoard (of which the Library was already snacking on his third helping of) when the voice of Willy Stampler echoes around them again.

            “Alright, enough of this shit. Lark and Sparrow, channel the power in your blood and kill the druid.”

            Henry’s head whipped around like lightening in time to see the taller hooded figure throw aside his cloak to reveal Lark standing tall on Sparrow’s shoulders. Both pairs of eyes trained on Henry, but neither showed recognition. Neither smiled.

            And then, abruptly, both of them smiled. Large, impish grins as they answered in tandem, voices identical and robotic.

            “Yes father, as you will it.”

            “BOYS, NO!” Henry shrieked as a bolt of green light surged from the ground at Sparrows feet, travelling their bodies to Lark’s hands and then launched as a bolt of neon lightning directly at Henry.

            “SPIRIT SHIELD!” Darryl screamed, and immediately the ghostly figures he had called raced in front of Henry, covering him as the green light struck and exploded around them.

            When the dust settled the ghosts were gone, and Henry lay on the ground.

            Far above, the twins and Willy Stampler laughed.

            “See what happens when you listen to your father? You can do great things! Is he dead?”

            Darryl was already on his knees beside Henry’s body, trusting the Library to continue his feast as he checked the man’s pulse. The sigh of relief when he felt it shook him bodily. He was alive, but unconscious. The spirit shield had worked, but if it hadn’t… if it… With a cry of anger, Darryl leapt to his feet and shook his fist.

            “No, he’s not dead, but he could have died! What the hell are you kids doing?! That’s your father! That’s your dad!”

            Lark and Sparrow cocked their heads to the same side, looking down curiously. They had always had a similar manner, but now they seemed to move like one entity. It was deeply unsettling to watch as both turned to Willy, speaking as one again.

            “Father, what are they speaking of? You are the only father worthy of us, of our power, are you not?”

            Willy rolled his eyes. “Yes, obviously. These are just some assholes off the street come to beg for table scraps. And what do we do to beggars and vagrants?”

            The smiles were still chilling. “Eliminate them from society!”

            “NO!” Darryl screamed as the twins raised their hands again. He stood in front of Henry. The sounds of crunching bones and grisly moans still echoed behind him. “Lark, Sparrow, this is your dad! This is Henry! He raised you, fed you, tucked you in at night! He… he made you eat vegan, and played bedtime games to teach you to be good kids! I mean, sure, he wasn’t perfect, but he’s better than that guy over there! What’s Willy ever done for you? He doesn’t care about you! He’s just using you for your… for whatever power you’ve got. I don’t know, but he’s NOT your dad!”

            The twins squinted at Darryl with skepticism, but when they looked at Willy that expression was still on their faces.

            “Father, could what this vagrant says be true? Mayhaps we should not yet kill them. Mayhaps we should speak with this Henry when he awakes.”

            Willy twitched. “You… you will not question me! Shut the fuck up and kill them!”

            “Hmm… no. We believe we shall wait. After all father, as you have yet to prove that you can use Daddy Magic as you claimed you would be able to, it seems we still have much more power than you. Of course we should bring them to the dungeon to wait for our trial.”

            Willy growled, and Darryl realised even at a distance that he seemed a little scared. This man was playing with something he couldn’t control, that was for sure.

            Well, it made sense. Who the fuck could control the Oak twins? Not Henry, and apparently not anyone else either.

            “However, we will get rid of the monster. After all, he is eating Terry’s dolls. That’s not very nice of it.”

            “Yeah, fine, get something out of my hair anyway.”

            It took Darryl a second to realise that by monster they meant the Library, and another to realise that if the Library was fighting a zombie hoard single handed, he might be kind of distracted.

            He turned and saw the Library shoving a pair of kicking legs between his jaws as Lark glowed again, raising his hands. The Library was facing away.

            “LIBRARY, LOOK OUT!” Darryl roared. He managed to run forward three steps before the Library was struck. When he fell it seemed to be in slow motion. His knees gave out first, cracking on the ground. Then he fell back, limbs splayed around his head like a grotesque halo. His eyes rolled upward, and his long, long tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth onto the ground.

            Darryl was clutching his shirt above his chest so hard that he felt his fingernails digging into his flesh beneath. He felt cold, and sick, and his heart was beating so, so fast.

            “No, no, no… you’re hard to kill. That wouldn’t… that’s not enough to…” Darryl was staggering, pushing a zombie aside as he went (they were just milling around now, had Willy called them off?), he fell to his knees a second time beside his monster, pressing his fingers to the wrist of one of those many limbs. Limbs that were strong enough to hold him back, limbs that carried him, touched him, and they were so limp… c-cold…

            He couldn’t find a pulse. He tried another wrist. And another. Another.

            No, that didn’t mean anything. The Library wasn’t human, maybe he didn’t need a pulse. Darryl screamed for him to wake up. He slapped the ground by his ear, felt the still air in front of his face.

            “Ooh, we killed that one, yes?”

            “Looks like it! Terry, get it dragged off to your work room, we’ll add it to your collection, eh?” He elbowed the shorter hooded finger in the side. It nodded silently and raised a hand. Abruptly a number of corpses began to converge on the Library and Darryl.

            Tears were streaming from Darryl’s eyes, blurring his vision. No, this couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. The corpses grabbed the Library’s ankles, three of them supporting the end of his tongue like a bride’s train as they began to drag him away. Darryl tried to follow, tried to pull them off but he was too worked up, too exhausted mentally and physically, and there were so many fucking zombies.

            He still pulled the heads off a couple before he noticed a few had already gathered Henry up into their rotting arms and were carrying him toward another door entirely.

            “I’d stop fighting if I were you, unless you want me to finish your friend off personally right here right now. As it is, I’m willing to wait till he wakes up. Watching Lark and Sparrow realise how weak that little bitch really is and how unworthy he is of them should be pretty funny.”

            “You… you sick fuck…” Darryl muttered, head spinning as he was grabbed under the arms, propelled in the direction they were taking Henry. While the Library had been dragged toward a door leading into the castle walls, Henry and Darryl looked like they were getting dragged to the outdoor jailhouse. Figured, he’d never actually seen a dungeon inside the castle, this was probably the closest they actually had to one.

            The Library couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t actually be dead. He was just knocked out. He would wake up, and break them out, and everything would be fine. Or… or maybe not, maybe Henry would wake up, and they would escape. Or something. God, there had to be something.

            “Aw come on, cheer up fruitcake! You should feel lucky I have reason to keep you alive for now! You never know when you need a disposable hostage after all.”

            “Fuck you!” Darryl yelled with as much conviction as he could, though his runny nose and raspy throat didn’t make him sound very menacing. Willy Stampler’s ugly laugh followed him as he was pushed through the wooden doorway, praying to God to help him think of a plan. Any fucking plan.

            And to please, please let the Library still be alive.

Notes:

Did i kill the library? Well theres 5 goddamn chapters left you tell me where the vore is coming from it he's not around smh

Chapter 26: Love

Summary:

Darryl and Henry are trapped at Willy Stampler's command, and the Library appears to be dead. Henry better show his sons he's a better father than Willy Stampler, or things might start getting REAL bad.

Notes:

So this one got long too. I think at this point, all the remaining chapters of this fic are going to be monsters, but hey. That's just... that's just how it is now.

In this chapter we have LOTS of gore and violence and zombies so buckle up for that. Only 4 more chapters left, thanks to everyone who's been enjoying the ride so far!

26 Love

            Darryl had never done more than take a cursory look into the keep’s jail/dungeon, and of course the Library never once saw a reason to put him in there (after all, the entire castle worked just fine as a cage when the Library had him manacled with flesh magic) but he was getting a pretty full experience of it now.

            It wasn’t a big building, but it was lined with stone on all four sides, unlike the other out buildings that had wooden walls aside from the keep wall they were built against. Inside the building was a short line of six identical cells, each large enough for one bare bench and a pair of sinister manacles on the wall, an open iron door with a barred window making each a separate compartment. The zombies lobbed both Henry’s limp body and Darryl into the cell furthest from the door into the courtyard, and slammed the iron door behind them.

            The turning of a lock didn’t worry Darryl necessarily. It was still possible they would be able to break out. If anything, it was a bit of a comfort that they wouldn’t be attacked again immediately even though a quick peek out the barred window showed that a couple of zombies were standing nearby, and the smell would have tipped him off even if he couldn’t see them.

            He wasn’t going to think about the Library. Until it was proven otherwise, Darryl was going to go on the assumption that he was only knocked out. Even if that thought stank of denial he clung to it, because if he let himself dwell on the alternative too much he might find himself paralyzed. He had to figure out the next right thing to do and focus on that.

            Well, the next right thing seemed to be getting Henry’s shallowly breathing body off the cold stone floor, so he heaved him onto the bench, letting his long legs dangle over the end as he set him on his back, the man’s blond head gently falling to the side.

            Deciding he needed to cushion his head especially, Darryl made to take off his shirt to use as a make-shift pillow when he noticed that under the bench seemed to be a bundled up, dusty sheet. He pulled it out and heard something scrape against the floor. After he had bundled the sheet into a wad and slipped it under Henry’s head he investigated the noise.

            To Darryl’s utter shock, under the bench where the sheet had been was his Nokia cell phone. Apparently this was where the Library had stashed it, and he honestly could not begin to understand how he got that lucky. He thanked God, just in case He was responsible.

            He immediately double checked that the zombies didn’t have any intention of peeking in on them. Then he pulled up his contacts on the phone and highlighted Scam Likely, since he was the only one in Faerun who would still be able to answer his call.

            Darryl’s thumb hesitated over the call button. Would the zombies come investigate if he started talking on the phone? Should he text? Would Scam actually receive a text? He’d only ever called before, and he didn’t actually have a real cell phone, he seemed to be answering calls using some kind of magic.

            Darryl squinted at the phone for a second and then looked at Henry, the beginnings of a plan taking shape. He almost felt like Glenn as he crouched next to Henry’s body and took his hand, taking a little heart in the fact it seemed plenty warm. The dungeon was cool, but since it was above ground and sheltered from the wind it wasn’t cold enough to necessitate a blanket.

            “Hey Henry,” Darryl said in a low voice, just loud enough he was pretty sure someone outside the cell would hear him. His eyes immediately darted to the barred window and waited. Nothing appeared. “It’s okay Henry, I swear we’re going to get out of this. We’re gonna get your kids back, you’ll see.”

            He waited a while longer until he confirmed that no one was coming to check on him talking to Henry. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, he dialled Scam’s number and turned down his phone volume before pressing it tight to his ear.

            It rang once, twice, then: “Don’t trust what you hear or see, you’re making a call to Scam Likely! Please hold!”

            Darryl grumbled as the beeping ringtone started blaring in his ear and glanced at the door again. At least this time he was pretty sure he had time to wait until Scam had his fun.

            “Beep ba beep beepbeepbeep- wow, nothing, huh? You’re just gonna wait me out? That’s very boring of you, Darryl!”

            Darryl dropped his voice a bit lower, just to make sure he wasn’t going to be overheard if he said something too specific on accident. “Yeah, stuff went wrong, okay? You, Henry, are knocked out. The Library was… hit really hard and taken somewhere else. And you and me? We’re locked up in the dungeon at the Library’s keep. It’s not a great situation.”

            “Oooooh, oh, shit.” There was some scraping and scrambling on the other end of the phone and some muffled talking. “Do you know who did it Darryl? Are they listening?”

            “Yeah, Willy got us pretty bad,” Darryl said a little louder, “I still can’t believe that he hypnotised Lark and Sparrow into working for him like that, and that zombie army was a lot bigger than I would’ve thought. I don’t even know if we’re being watched now, so I don’t know if it’s worth trying to break out, especially with you unconscious like this.”

            “And the Library’s missing, huh? Typical. Alright, we’ll figure something out and try to get you out of there I guess. Try not to die in the meantime, hm? Not sure how long it’ll take to make a plan though, and travelling there on foot’s going to be a pain.”

            “We don’t have much time!” Darryl said quickly, heart beating faster. “I mean, Willy said that as soon as Henry’s- I mean, as soon as you’re awake, he’s going to make Lark and Sparrow kill you so…”

            “Eugh, that’s unfortunate. Well, I’ll see what we can do, but if you figure out a way to escape before we get there, you should probably try to take it, huh?”

            “Yeah, thanks Scam,” Darryl sighed, hanging up and then straightening abruptly and looking over his shoulder at the door again.

            Still no one there. Well, that was some relief anyway. They weren’t being listened to.

            He tucked his phone away and squeezed Henry’s hand one more time. “Guess there’s no point going anywhere until you’re awake, huh?”

            So Darryl lay back on the cold stone floor, stared at the ceiling, and waited.

*

            According to Darryl’s phone, it was about three hours later that Henry finally started to stir. By now night had fallen, but the dungeon was lit by small candles in the main room so the light inside had only dimmed slightly, and the ghostly half-shadow of the cell was undisturbed as Henry groaned and his eyelids fluttered.

            Darryl clapped a hand over Henry’s mouth and whispered into his ear. “It’s me. We’re in a prison cell. Don’t say anything and pretend you’re still unconscious.”

            “Why?” Henry hissed, though his eyes fell closed again as soon as he had looked up at Darryl’s face.

            “Willy said as soon as you were awake he was going to have your kids kill you.”

            “Aw geez, that’s bad.”

            “I know, so stop talking and keep lying there. I’m gonna check the room to see if I can break us out.”

            “Why didn’t you do that while I was still knocked out?”

            “Cause it would be harder to escape with you unconscious.”

            “But you still could have checked if it was possible? I didn’t need to be conscious for you to check.” Darryl paused and gained an expression not unlike someone who had trouble understanding that a ton of feathers weighed the same as a ton of steel. “It’s okay Darryl, just go look. Forget I said anything, okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m gonna go look.”

            Darryl got up off the floor, wincing as he realized his ass had gone mostly numb from the unforgiving surface. He knew that going out through the back of the cell would be impossible. The walls of the castle courtyard were way too thick to punch through. But he moved his hands along the wall anyway checking for any secret buttons or whatever. Nothing.

            The door looked pretty solid too, but of any point in the cell, the door hinges would probably be the most likely to break if he hit it hard enough. He returned to Henry’s side.

            “So, I think our only chance is to try to break down the door. How are you feeling?”

            “Thank you for asking! Hard to tell exactly how I feel without sitting up, but I do think I’ve recovered my spell slots.”

            “What?”

            “Just a magic-user thing, don’t worry about it. So you’re going to break the door down and we run out of here?”

            “Well, we might have to fight a couple zombies but basically, yeah. If I can get the door open anyway, I’m not sure if it’ll work.”

            “That’s fair. What’s the plan when we get out of here, though? Do you know where the Library is? What happened to him?”

            Darryl winced. “Your kids hit him pretty hard with their magic blast thing. He didn’t look good and they took his- took him somewhere else.” He shut his eyes and took a steadying breath. “I don’t think we should go looking for him. We should try to get out.”

            “You don’t want to look for him?” Henry’s eyes opened in surprise but he shut them again at Darryl’s look. “Why not?”

            “Because he might be… he- I couldn’t find a pulse, okay? So he might… he might…” Darryl’s breath hitched and he suddenly felt Henry’s hand wrap around his own and squeezed. His breathing steadied. “Look, I really, really hope he’s okay, but the kids take priority right now.”

            “Well, then we shouldn’t be looking to get out, we need to get my boys, right?”

            “Henry, I know why you’d want to do that, but your boys are… uh…”

            “I know, I saw them. And uh, well, I don’t… I don’t really know what to do about that but… but my boys have always been kind of rowdy? And I’ve always had a hard time getting them to do the right thing, but I like to think we usually get there in the end! They like to tussle, but my kids aren’t murderers, you know? I don’t think they’ll hurt me in the end. They’re a lot of things, but they aren’t monsters.”

            Darryl huffed, rolling his eyes. “Henry, I know you think your kids are good deep down and maybe they are, but I watched your kids punch you in the stomach before Faerun, and I just saw them almost kill you with a lightning bolt. I don’t think throwing yourself at their mercy is going to help.”

            Henry was quiet for a while, his hand dropping from Darryl’s grip. Finally, he responded. “Darryl… I think… I think I have to love and trust my kids no matter what. If I’ve raised them this long, and they still can look me in the eyes and k-kill me then… then I guess I’ll have to accept I’ve done a bad job as a father and take what’s coming to me.”

            That sent a chill down Darryl’s spine. “Henry, no. You’re a great dad! I mean, okay, so you should probably discipline your kids more, but you love them so much and you’d do anything for them, you don’t deserve to die because Willy’s mind controlling your kids! That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard!”

            “Okay well, I’m not leaving this castle without them! Maybe you’re okay leaving someone you love in possible danger, but I’m not!”

            “I’m not- I don’t- hey, fuck you! That’s a completely different thing! Your kids are your kids, the Library’s a guy who kidnapped me and who’s been eating my flesh for a couple months and then we started hooking up! I don’t think that’s really comparable!”

            Henry blinked, pushing himself into a full sit as he stared at Darryl. “Did you just say he was eating your flesh?”

            Darryl blushed horribly. He hadn’t meant to admit to that. “I mean- yeah, but it only hurt a few times near the beginning, he usually made me numb before he harvested… and then later he um… he made up for it?”

            Henry was slack-jawed. “That uh… wow, okay, there’s a lot to unpack there and I don’t think we have time for that right now, but just to take your temperature on that real quick, what the sam-hill high flying swizzle-stick fuck?”

            “It wasn’t that bad for most of it! I could handle it fine. He just- okay, so he bit off my foot so he could remake and control it like he did my hand before, right? And the first time he kind of shredded my stomach open in the middle of the floor but he healed me right after! He just said I tasted good, I don’t know, but then I promised to blow him if he made it so I couldn’t feel him cutting the flesh off, and then I offered to cook my flesh for him. He said that was fine but then I said I didn’t want to blow him, and he was ok with that as long as I called my wife to make sure she was really divorcing me, and then he started blowing me and was really really good at it? And then after Ravenloft he said he wanted to fuck me and we did and… and alright, so he basically called me his ‘pet’ all the time and maybe I kind of liked being taken care of even if it was kind of smothering but… and then after Ravenloft the second time I helped him right? And I got Grant to help me give him more of my flesh to help heal him… it wasn’t… okay it was weird but I don’t know what to feel about any of it! I don’t really want to take the time to think about it right now, either.”

            Henry just kept staring at him, clearly dumbfounded. Darryl winced. “Can we talk about this later? Or maybe never? I’m gonna go try to punch the door out.”

            He turned to the door and froze dead to see the vaguely nauseated face of Willy Stampler peering in through the barred window.

            “Hey so, I have no idea what the fuck all that was about, so I’m going to try to forget I heard any of it.”

            “Uh, thanks,” Darryl muttered, taking a half-step backwards.

            “Ah ah, thanks…?” Willy said lightly, clearly expecting elaboration.

            “Thanks, dickbag.”

            Willy scowled. “Oh shut the fuck up. The dirty hippie’s awake so it’s time to fucking die anyway. Don’t bother trying anything on the way to the twins’ trial,” he spat the word like it was something dirty. “Darryl, you don’t even have magic. I can stop anything you try to do without breaking a sweat. And Henry? Sure, maybe you’ve got some spells, but not only am I more powerful than you? Even your own kids can do more impressive shit than you can. You’re both weak, worthless failures. You don’t deserve your kids, you don’t even deserve to live. And by the time I finish proving that, you won’t have to worry about either. Got it?”

            Not waiting for a response, Willy’s face disappeared from the window, there was the loud sound of a lock turning, and then the door swung open.

            When Willy’s voice came again, it was loud and echoing as though he had already vanished into the air, and when Darryl and Henry poked their heads out the door to the empty jailhouse, that proved to be the case.

            “Hurry up and go to the main hall. Darryl should know where that is, unless he’s really as stupid as he looks. Your kids are waiting for you there. Try to run and I’ll kill you myself.”

            “I’m not running!” Henry snapped, his voice hard and determined, and Darryl actually found himself marvelling at the man’s resolve. “I’m getting my kids back, you hear me? I’m not leaving here without them, not this time!”

            “Heh, good luck.”

            Henry gave Darryl a sharp nod, and Darryl nodded back, only a little less certain about it. Side by side, they left the jailhouse and headed toward the castle proper and the main hall where the Library had liked to keep his piles of books. The cavernous, empty space seemed like as good a place for a fight as any other.

*

            Apparently Willy had decided to spruce up the crumbling castle while Darryl was gone.

            “This is where the Library was keeping you? It’s a lot fancier inside,” Henry whispered as soon as they passed through the tall front doors.

            “It didn’t look like this when I was here before. The only place the Library cleaned up was the kitchen and I’d been here over a month before he bothered with that. It was just a lot of bare stone and piles of books the Library brought, and a bare long table at the front. That’s it.”

            “Oh. Well, it’s fancier now.”

            And it certainly was. Where once the room was barren, it now held all the trappings of what someone familiar with medieval-themed television shows would expect of a Great Hall. The walls were covered in the same grotesque banners that had been in the front hall of castle Ravenloft, and were just as gory as Darryl remembered. The long table at the far end of the room was now accompanied by two other long tables on either side of the hall, these flanked by rows of seated zombies sat in front of silver platters of… well, nothing pleasant. The food looked rotten, and Darryl was determined not to examine it closely. A blood red carpet ran the length of the room from the door through to the higher table at the far end, which was set with golden plates and what seemed to be edible food, though it was hard to make out exactly what at this distance.

            He did notice that the Library was not among the zombies at the tables, which was a small relief.

            Seated in the center of the high table was Willy, who was leaning his chin on his folded hands and surveying the two hapless dads as they entered what he had clearly claimed as his domain. It was, to Darryl’s sinking disappointment, nigh unrecognisable from the place where he would usually find the Library holed up.

            To Willy’s right hand side was the short hooded figure, presumably Terry Junior though his hood was still in place to hide his face. He wasn’t touching the food in front of him and barely moved.

            To Willy’s left were both twins, seated side by side. The one furthest from Willy was tearing viciously into a piece of meat, the one closest only watched Henry and Darryl approach with a wild, uncanny grin on his face. Darryl heard Henry swallow audibly next to him.

           There was no sign of Paeden anywhere either, and that was worrying.

           Henry and Darryl walked slowly into the center of the room, only flinching slightly at the sound of the giant doors slamming shut behind them. Silence stretched between them as Willy, Henry and Darryl stared each other down, only disrupted by the occasionally moan or groan from the many zombies seated around them.

           They were surrounded and trapped, and their only hope was that Henry would be able to get his brainwashed kids to listen to him. Darryl really wished he could feel more optimistic about their situation, but already he wished he’d asked Scam to pass on his love to Grant in case they didn’t make it out, bleak as that was.

           “So,” Willy Stampler said loudly, his voice echoing around the hall but not in the eerie way it did when he was using magic to project it. “You, Hen Ry’Oak, think you have what it takes to be the father of these two boys?” He chuckled as he gestured to the twins. Now both wore matching grins as their eyes glowed a sickly green.

           “Of course I do!” Henry snapped, puffing out his chest. His eyes softened as soon as they turned to his boys. “Those are my sons! Lark, Sparrow, you know I’m your dad! When I saw you for the first time, I was moved into composing poetry. You’re the most important gift of my life. I’ve always tried to raise you to be kind and love others, and-”

           “Blah blah blah, hippie dippie bullshit, we get it.” Willy rolled his eyes and stood from the table. “You don’t even understand the kind of power your sons have. You managed to ignore the power in your own blood to the point where you can barely access it at all, so how could you hope to control and use these boys properly?”

            Henry flushed. “Hey! Don’t say stuff like that! Children aren’t meant to be controlled and used! They’re meant to be cherished and cared for, and taught how to be good, kind, grownups!”

            “See, this is exactly it! You have no idea how to raise kids, god.” Willy shook his head. “Look, I’ll lay it out for you really simple, alright? You remember the Eldritch One, the one you called the Doodler, right?”

            “Yes…?” Henry said slowly, “The thing that David Boreanus was trying to summon in Neverwinter, right? That we dropped a pyramid on?”

            “Obviously, idiot. Shut up and pay attention.”

            “You know, I don’t like your attitude, sir!” Darryl broke in loudly.

            “Okay, if you can’t shut up on your own, I’ll make you,” Willy snapped and waved a hand. Abruptly Darryl felt as though an invisible hand had clenched itself around his throat.

            “Hey wha-ACK!” Darryl gasped. As soon as he tried to speak the invisible hand squeezed tighter and he was quickly silenced, though when he quieted it loosened a little even if it never completely vanished.

            “What are you doing to Darryl? Stop it!” Henry wrung his hands as Willy growled.

            “Unless you want me to silence you the same way, stay quiet. Got it?” Henry opened his mouth, but then shut it and gave a quick nod instead. Willy shot him a patronizing smile. “Was that so hard? So. The Doodler. Long story short, as you know from your time enslaved in Ravenloft, you were originally born in Faerun and when you were a teenager you managed to find a spell to open a portal to Earth, which messed up your memories.”

            Henry nodded along while Darryl looked at him in shock. He hadn’t bothered to tell him that. Did anyone else know?

            “Well, what Bear didn’t tell you is that your grandmother, Bear’s mother, was actually originally from Earth herself. She fought the Doodler on Earth, and in supposedly destroying the god she fell through a portal into the Forgotten Realms where she built a new life. But a part of the Doodler lived on in her blood. That part passed on to Bear when he was born, and he passed it to you, and you should have passed it on to your sons. For some reason a part of it stayed inside of you as well, not sure why, but most of it still lingers in the blood of Lark and Sparrow. Chaos, destruction, mindless slaughter? It’s in your blood, Henry. There’s no escaping it.”

            Henry gasped, pressing a hand to his mouth. Darryl wanted to say something comforting, but obviously that wasn’t an option so he settled for putting a steady hand on his shoulder instead.

            “That power is, as you’ve seen, extremely useful when controlled properly. Your sons are perfect conduits for its chaos energy, and now that I’ve finally managed to help them awaken to it, they now direct their violence at my whim. You were never going to get them to just calm down and hug a pillow or whatever sissy shit you wanted them to do. They needed an outlet, and honestly, I think world domination is going to be right up their alley.”

            “We’re going to rule the world!” The twins chanted in unison. Henry shuddered under Darryl’s hand.

            Willy pointed at Henry. “You could never hope to understand or control your kids. If left up to you, they would never reach their full potential. They’d just end up blowing up a building and getting sent to jail for life. They need someone with vision and a purpose for their future to mould them into what they need to be. With me as their father, Lark and Sparrow are going to control all of Faerun as my generals, and once you’re out of the picture, I will finally be able to take your Daddy Magic and be the father of this entire plane of existence for all of eternity! So you may as well give up on them now.”

            “No,” Henry said suddenly, his voice a lot more firm than his shaking shoulders should have allowed for. “No, I’m never going to give up on my sons. I love them more than anything else, and I’m not leaving them with you. They aren’t monsters, they’re my beautiful boys, and I won’t let you tell them they have to be anything they don’t want to be!”

            “But this is what we want,” the twins replied, and Henry flinched horribly as Willy laughed.

            “What the hell made you think those two would want anything less than world domination, idiot?” Willy snorted. “I just told you they’ve got the power of an eldritch god running in their veins! They want to see chaos and carnage. They want to show the world how powerful they are. They want to hurt people. And they don’t need a weak, snivelling man like you holding them back. You want your kids to do whatever they want to do? Well this is what they want! Honestly, if you value peace and love and that garbage so much, shouldn’t you really hate your sons? They’re nothing like you! They’re going to go out there and kill people because they find it fun, do you really want to be their dad knowing that? Do you really want that responsibility? To know that you are the reason that these kids grew up with so little discipline and sense of self-control that all they want to do is hurt innocent people? At least under my control they’ll hold back from just outright destroying everything and leave something left to conquer.”

            Darryl notice Henry clenching his fists at his sides, his body shaking minutely as his eyes never left Lark and Sparrow. “I- I don’t want to believe that my boys really want to hurt people. I thought… I tried to make them see that the world is a beautiful place worth protecting. That they have every right to live in it, and so does everyone else. But if I failed at that, and my boys are really-” Henry’s eyes finally squeezed shut and Darryl noticed the twins were smiling a little less widely as a tear made its way down their father’s face. “If that’s really how my sons are… I could never hate them. I’d be disappointed, but, I wouldn’t be disappointed in them. I’d be disappointed in myself for failing them so badly. I just wanted them to love everyone as much as I love them. And I’m not going to stop loving them no matter what you turn them into, or what they choose but… I…”

            “Alright, that’s enough bullshit,” Willy shook his head and cut Henry off. “Lark, Sparrow, that’s the man who thinks he deserves to be your dad. He’s weak, and whiny, and-”

            “Hmm, actually! We do not know for suuuure if this man is weak… Willy.” The twins both raised an eyebrow at Willy, who immediately looked supremely flustered.

            “Hey! It’s father or sir, you don’t get to call me by my name you brats!”

            “Yes well, it seems to us that you have yet to prove your own strength beyond simply causing us enough pain to trigger our current state of oneness with the god in our veins. We, the emissaries of the Doodler and lords of chaos would like to see you and that man fight in one on one combat. The winner shall earn our love, and whatever Daddy Magic that may grant him.”

            Willy frowned, eyes narrowed and colour rising in his cheeks, and for a moment Darryl thought he was going to start yelling. Instead he smirked, and somehow this was worse.

            “Heh, you want to see your father beat someone up huh? Sure, no sweat. I’ve missed beating the snot out of the little freak.” Willy turned his smirk on Henry. “Ready to fight for your kids’ respect for once? Or will you do something smart and ask for a quick death?”

            “Of course I’ll fight for my kids,” Henry muttered, shaking Darryl’s hand off but shooting him a wry smile. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty tough, and this time at least I don’t think he can threaten to hurt the boys if I fight back, so I’m gonna give it all I’ve got.”

            Darryl hesitated, but finally nodded and took a few steps back toward one of the long tables, feeling the invisible fingers on his throat ease up to only a light pressure as he did so. “You can do it, Henry!” he managed to say, and found the grip didn’t return. Maybe the light pressure was just a ghost sensation.

            Willy started walking around the table leisurely and made a gesture to Terry Junior on his way past. “Terry, how about you have the catalyst brought in? I want that Daddy Magic flowing as soon as I can access it. And you’ve got your new toy on standby, yeah?” The hooded figure nodded. “Good boy.”

            As Willy started to cross the red carpet to where Henry was standing at the ready, the hooded figure raised a hand and there was a yelp and sounds of struggle from the doorway leading to the hallways into the royal quarters. Two zombies staggered into the room with a small boy hanging between them, his arms pinned to his sides with a length of chain, and his feet kicking wildly. Occasionally a knife would shake out of his pant leg and land on the floor. The child was firmly gagged with fabric wrapping around his head but when he locked eyes with Darryl the muffled noise he made definitely sounded like Darryl’s name.

            “PAEDEN!” Darryl yelled, managing to run forward all of three steps before Willy raised a hand and a mass of energy blew him backwards directly into one of the zombies seated at the bench behind him. He tried to get up but was quickly grabbed by multiple pairs of cold, slimy hands and held down on his seat. Chills ran up and down as spine as there seemed to be more hands on him than there were zombies next to him. “Hey! Watch where you’re touching!”

            Willy laughed. “Yeah, you just get comfortable with your new buddies there, you’ll be one of them soon enough. Don’t worry about the homunculus, he’s just a little powder keg really. Though I suppose I should thank you for at least proving he’s actually capable of unleashing the magic I stored in him under the right circumstances. I was starting to think I was going to have to destroy him and find a new vessel to store all the Daddy Magic in this world in so that only I can make use of it.”

            “What the hell are you talking about?” Darryl asked sharply as Willy stopped walking a good ten paces from where Henry still stood, now also looking at Paeden’s trussed up body in horror.

            Willy snorted. “You really haven’t figured it out? Well, since Henry’s going to die soon and you’re probably not going to last that long either, I guess I’ll explain. When I drowned on Earth, my soul found a portal into Faerun, and as soon as I got here I started looking for a way to amass power and never have to worry about dying again. At first I figured necromancy was the way to do it, and that worked for a while, but while necromancy kept me alive I knew it wasn’t why I managed to survive drowning in the first place. So I consulted with some ancient sources, and I found out that the reason I survived to come to Faerun at all was due to something called Daddy Magic. As much of a disappointment my son was to me, when I died a part of him wished so hard I wasn’t dead that my Daddy Magic activated and I was given the option of being respawned in Faerun.”

            Willy smiled terribly. “Actually, a very similar thing happened to Terry’s dad, but he was too weak to survive long here. He was killed off again pretty quick, and a certain vampire managed to find his corpse and thought it looked like a fun thing to shapeshift into. A fun little coincidence, really.” He grinned over his shoulder at the table, but the hooded figure neither moved nor showed any other sign of being affected by the callous statement.

            “So obviously once I realised how powerful Daddy Magic was, I knew I needed more of it. Ron had managed to grow up and while I still had a little Daddy Magic flowing in from him it wasn’t enough to do much with. The only thing it really did was it gave me a trail to follow. I found Bear Ry’Oak and helped him bind some animal souls into his homunculi so that he would build me a homunculus out of sweat and urine powerful enough to contain all the Daddy Magic in Faerun.”

            He gestured at Paeden dramatically. “And that’s what he made! I used some powerful necrotic spellwork and my own connection to Daddy Magic to trap all of it in the body of a child. I didn’t expect it to start developing a personality, but when I realised that I was also cut off from the Daddy Magic while it was inside Paeden, I knew that sort of made a kind of sense. I assumed all I had to do was get this new… child thing to see me as its father, and I would have all the Daddy Magic I would ever need! But even though I raised it just like I did my own son, nothing came of it. So I dumped him in a fighting arena to toughen him up and get him out of my hair while I tried to think of another plan, which ended up with me rounding up a couple more dads and luring you all here to Faerun to renounce your fatherhood so I could take your kids and use them to harness Daddy Magic instead.”

            “Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure if it would work with the magic still tied up with Paeden, but as soon as I saw you unlock Daddy Magic near him, I knew that I would be able to do the same. Once I did, I’d just kill you guys and finally rule Faerun like I wanted with an army of zombies and the powers of an eldritch god.”

            Darryl grunted, folding his arms to get them away from the creepy hands grabbing at him. “You’re a big old bag of dicks, you know that?”

            “Hey Darryl? Shut up for real this time or I’ll have my zombies rip your fucking tongue out.” Darryl’s mouth snapped shut as a grisly finger prodded curiously at his lips. Willy laughed again and turned back to Henry. “Anything you want to say before I fucking kill you dead in front of your sons?”

            Henry heaved a breath in and out. “So what you’re saying is, you literally sucked the magic of fatherhood out of this entire world and abused it. Great. Fucking great. Yeah, I’ve got something to say to you, sir.” Eyes flashing green and every vein standing out in his neck, arms, and thighs, Henry spread out his center of gravity and curled his hand in the universal gesture of ‘come at me’. “Bring it on you ding-dang bitch-ass cuck!”

            From the high table, the twins both leaned forward. “OOOOOOH NO HE DIDN’T!”

            “Oh fuck off!” Willy growled and threw a force spell. Henry, perhaps expecting a physical blow, seemed to be caught off-guard and yelped as he was knocked straight back off of his feet, crashing into and sliding a fair distance along the rug. Darryl winced, that looked painful. Rug burn was no joke.

            Willy started walking toward Henry as the man pushed himself back into a sit and cast a spell that sent a thick wall of fire up between him and Willy. Unfortunately it didn’t seem to do much to Willy other than singe his robe a little on the edges, but it at least kept him back long enough for Henry to get back on his feet and cast Erupting Earth while Willy was still working out a way around the new obstacle.

            Unfortunately, Henry couldn’t really see through the wall of fire either and his best guess on where Willy was turned out to be a bit off. The ground erupted well enough, but it only made the man stumble forward and get pelted with a small amount of debris. A quick Dispel Magic destroyed the wall of fire, and left Henry yelping as he was exposed.

            “Cute, nature magic’s always so cute.” Willy chuckled as he shook his head slowly. “But the problem with nature magic is that it depends on life. And as a necromancer, I’m pretty fucking good at taking that away.”

            With that, an inky tendril of darkness flowed out of Willy’s fingertips with horrific speed and stuck itself to Henry’s chest. Letting out a downright ghastly wail, Henry clawed at his chest as his face began paling.

            “HENRY!” Darryl screamed from the sidelines as the man slowly began to sink to his knees as his life force was drained from him. Like hell he was going to let someone else he cared about fall to necrotic magic! A burst of rage swallowed Darryl and in a moment of adrenaline he unfolded his arms at lightning speed, tearing through the zombies on either side of him and throwing dismembered body parts across the room before sprinting at Willy.

            “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Willy groaned, the tendril zapping out of existence and leaving Henry gasping on the floor as the necromancer turned and sent another wave of force as Darryl, blowing him backward. Though that didn’t stop him from quickly clambering to his feet again.

            “That’s not fair! You can’t just drain the life out of someone! That’s- how does this prove who’s a better father, huh? There’s more to fatherhood than just being physically strong, asshole!” Darryl yelled even as more zombies rose to block his path to their master. He was making good work of punching through them.

            “God, you’re getting annoying. Terry! Get your new toy out here to ah, heh, take care of our little annoyance.”

            Darryl turned to see the hooded figure raise a hand again, though he was still struggling to pull the head off a zombie as he heard more, louder shambling coming from the hall Paeden had been dragged out of. (Speaking of, Paeden was being held behind the high table close to Terry and seemed to have a dark stain forming steadily on the front of his pants.) When the towering figure emerged, Darryl’s heart stammered and then plummeted.

            The Library was always pale, but now his skin was nearly translucent. His arms, usually so animated, hung dead at his sides and down his back like the mane of the greasiest lion. His clothes, normally well-kept were dirty and torn, and his tongue lolled from his mouth far enough to drag along the floor as he walked out from the shadows. His wide, blank eyes made no move toward Darryl, and the only sounds coming from his mouth were deep, raspy moans.

            “No, no, no…” Darryl’s arms fell limp as he stared at the reanimated corpse of the monster who made his life… well, a hell of a lot more complicated than it had to be for the last few months. A monster he cared about, maybe even… fuck. Fuck.

            He was tearing up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

            “Oh my gosh. Darryl, I’m so sorry.” Henry’s voice seemed to come from a million miles away.

            “Stop it.” Darryl said softly, then dug his fingers into the wrist of his right hand, hard. “STOP IT! That’s not- that’s wrong! That’s so messed up! It was bad enough you k-killed him, why do this to him? Just let him be dead, fuck! This is so much worse!” Darryl slammed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to look, but immediately felt many pairs of icy hands at his back, pushing him forward. He slit his eyes open to see the Library’s body was turned towards him now, its arms raising slowly and stretching towards him in a mockery of asking for a hug.

            A sob escaped him. That would normally have embarrassed him terribly, but faced with this, he couldn’t think of anything else to do. He felt so numb with absolute horror.

            “Aw, tearing up at your fruity monster boyfriend?” Willy taunted. “Aren’t you happy to be reunited? I’m sure he’ll hold onto you nice and securely until I’m done killing your friend. I doubt you’ll have the heart to try ripping its body apart.”

            Darryl was close to hyperventilating by the time he was pushed near enough to the Library that he could smell something foul coming from his mouth. He wrinkled his nose a moment before the countless arms descended upon him, turning him to face the fight and then cradling him firmly into the icy cold chest behind him.

            After a moment, he felt a thumb stroke its way under his shirt and run along the bare skin of his back. He shuddered. Willy was a sick fuck. He was going to pay for this. God, he had to. Only a brief struggle proved that the Library’s grip was a lot stronger than any of the other zombies and he was loath to admit it but Willy was right, he didn’t want to break any part of the Library’s body trying to escape.

            Though if Henry looked like he was in trouble again he might have to try. Damn it all.

            The break in the fighting did seem to be long enough for Henry to push himself to his feet again. Lark and Sparrow, though their attention had waned at the lull in combat, were now looking invested against as Willy sent out another tendril of darkness but Henry managed to dodge it this time and launched a Magic Missile. Willy took it hard to the sternum and stumbled, but didn’t seem terribly fazed by it.

            “Honestly, this is just embarrassing. Pain.” The last word was spoken simply but it welled with power, and Henry screamed as he fell again, writhing on the ground in what looked like absolute agony. The twins cheered, and Darryl’s stomach flipped as the Library’s limbs tightened around him.

            “Damn it Lark, Sparrow! How the hell can you two be happy about this? That’s your dad! Your dad’s going to die out there, and you don’t even care?! What’s wrong with you?” Darryl thrashed and yelled at the twins, who blinked in tandem and turned their gazes curiously on Darryl.

            “Our father? Oh, you mean the other man. The one who raised us and tried to make us hide our power. The one who would cage us.”

            “Cage you? Are you joking?!” Darryl snapped, shaking hard as the thumb on his back continued to move against him in ways that would be soothing in any other context and god did he hate that the most. “Henry’s always let you do what you wanted. He just wants you to grow up to be nice people, like any loving father would!”

            Willy stood over Henry as the man screamed at his feet, the crazed Cheshire cat grin on his face evidence of how much sheer enjoyment he was getting out of torturing another person. His mouth was moving too, but he was now too far away for Darryl to make out whatever poisonous words he was feeding to Henry as he bucked and curled in on himself.

            “Tell us Darryl, does a loving father refuse to let his sons achieve their full potential? Does a loving father allow his sons to wreak havoc with no consequences because he is too weak to show us what true power is?”

            “Look, I don’t know what garbage Willy’s been feeding you, and I know he probably hurt you a lot to make you this…” Darryl cringed. “Creepy. What’s with the speaking everything together thing?”

            “When our powers unlocked, our minds became closer than they have ever been. Father Willy says we are all the stronger because of it. Two child brains are almost as smart as an adult, he says.”

            “That’s a fucked up thing to say!” Darryl wanted to wipe the sweat off his forehead but the Library’s cold hands were entwined with his own and squeezing deceptively gently, and wouldn’t let him go anywhere. “Listen, you kids may be, uh, headstrong? You do stupid shit like kids do, but each of you on your own is way smarter than Willy ever was. He just says stuff like that so you won’t question him! The fact that you feel safe and confident questioning Henry’s authority over you is what makes him a better father!”

            There was a pause where only Henry’s pained cries were heard. The twins seemed to mull on this. “…go on?”

            They were listening. Jesus, they were listening to him now. Darryl couldn’t mess this up, Henry’s life depended on it. “Uh, well. Kids… like you! Kids need to learn how to make decisions on their own, and if a parent just tells their kids what to do and what to believe all the time, they never learn how to live on their own! And parents… they aren’t… they aren’t supposed to live and go on forever, you know? Yeah, maybe Willy lets you hurt people, but does he let you do anything else? Does he let you choose anything other than hurting other people?”

            The twins looked at each other, the first time Darryl had seem them do that since they revealed themselves.

            “Not really,” the twin on the left, Darryl thought it was Lark, said on his own. Their eyes had dulled ever so slightly as well. That was encouraging! Darryl pushed harder.

            “Exactly! And yeah, okay, so Henry didn’t want you to hurt people. But that’s because hurting people just… it makes you cruel. And Henry doesn’t want you to be cruel, because… because…”

            There was a sharp cry from across the room. “Because cruel people- th-thank you Darryl I can say this- cruel people aren’t happy,” Henry grunted. Darryl turned back to the ‘battle’ and found to his surprise that apparently while him and the twins were distracted Henry seemed to have broken free of Willy’s spell. He seemed to have transformed himself slightly, his fingers branched down into long claws and his teeth looked sharp and feral, and Willy was standing further back from him, staring down at blood on his hand. Half his face was covered in deep gouges and seemed to be trying frantically to heal them.

            “Holy shit, Henry!” Darryl gaped.

            “Cruel people aren’t happy?” The other twin, Sparrow, blinked curiously at Henry as the man turned his back on Willy to face his sons directly.

            “Look at Willy, okay?” Henry said loudly, “Look at him! Yeah, he smiles when he’s mean to others, but does he look like he’s having a good time in literally any other context? He’s mad, all the time! Mad and frustrated and unable to enjoy any of the things that make life so great! Lark, when you were eight, remember when you helped Ms. Reiner rake her yard, and she gave you cookies she made, and you said they were the best cookies you ever tasted? Do you think those cookies would’ve tasted as good if you had hurt Ms. Reiner and stolen them from her?”

            Lark’s eyes dulled further as his head slowly shook. “I-I don’t want to hurt Ms. Reiner. That’s not the same.”

            “It is!” Henry insisted. “And Sparrow, don’t you remember when you came home from school after that kid beat you up, and Mercedes took you to that kid’s house to talk it out with the kid and his mom, and you came back and said you and that kid were now friends? Wasn’t that more satisfying than trying to get back at him?”

            Sparrow hummed, eyes sparking. “Actually, mom told me not to tell you, but the reason Kale and I became friends was cause mom punched his mom in the face because she said I was making it up, and Kale thought it was funny seeing his mom cry so….”

            “Uuuuuuuuuuuuh, okay so, uh, bad example there. I-I might have to talk to your mom about that, and maybe you shouldn’t be hanging out with Kale as much, but- well, remember when we all played Oaks and Ogres together? And you boys were so good at doing good deeds to level up your characters! You boys are capable of so much good, and I just don’t want to see you hurt yourselves, or each other, or anyone else because your mother and I, we made you with so much love. And to think we loved you so much and that we weren’t able to make you feel it… that… that hurts.” Henry was openly crying now, tears running freely from his eyes and he made no move to wipe them away.

            The twins both looked at Henry Oak blankly, though as Darryl watched their faces slowly began to contort into something vaguely guilty.

            “Father, w-we know that you…”

            “We didn’t mean to make you…”

            “SHUT UP!” Willy shouted, and a blast of force knocked Henry forward off his feet, his face making an unpleasant crunch when his nose hit the ground. “That is the stupidest crap I’ve ever heard! The only reason you’re supposed to tell your kids not to be little monsters is so they don’t embarrass you. Anyway, Lark! Sparrow! I know full well what you really want to do. Remember all the people you killed in the village here? You should, cause they’re all in this room right now.”

            “What?” Henry’s eyes flew open as he looked up, blood streaming from his nose as he stared at the many, many zombies seated around them. “Y-you… no. No. Sparrow, Lark, please, please tell me he’s lying. You didn’t… you didn’t kill all these people?”

            The twins both flushed and now there was no doubt that they looked ashamed. “W-we… we were… did we…?”

            “We did, brother, we did,” Sparrow took a sharp breath and then his hands covered his mouth. “It felt good but… it’s blurry… father… father I-I’m sorry I think…”

            The twins scrambled out of their chairs and started to back up as their father stared at them, his own heart clearly breaking.

            Willy sneered his triumph. “That’s right! I managed to get them to realise their true power, and you know what happened? It overwhelmed them completely. They laughed when they slaughtered those people. Honestly, looks like your pansy teachings did NOTHING for them at all! Just give up on them and die already. I’m done with this.” He glared at the twins next. “Have a look at what it means to be weak. If you’re weak in this world, you’re as good as dead. And if you don’t learn to fucking do what I say and ONLY kill the people I tell you to kill, all you’ll end up doing is making me hate you as much as Henry does right now.”

            The twins gasped. “Father, is that true?”

            “You hate us, father? W-we did do something unforgivable…”

            “Unforgivable…” the twins were shaking, their eyes flickering in sharp bursts. It was hard to make out their faces in the glare, but Darryl thought they might be crying.

            “N-no,” Henry managed weakly, “No boys, I-I love you. E-even if you did this, I-I still don’t believe you did it because you wanted to. Th-this thing inside you, inside us… I’ve felt it too. When I was your age, even older… I felt it calling to me. It wanted me to… to hurt people too. And… and if I had gone through t-torture like you, i-if I’d been left like that, m-maybe I would’ve given in too. B-but please, you can still… you can still choose to stop. Please, you’re both so smart, such good, beautiful boys. I know you can choose to stop this now, and not help Willy anymore. You’re so much better than him. Better than this.”

            Henry took a sharp breath as Willy grabbed him by the back of his shirt and heaved him onto his feet. Large hands wrapped around his neck and started to squeeze, and it was clear Henry lacked enough energy to do more than scramble against them. The tendril from before had taken a toll.

            “I love you boys,” Henry gasped around his closing windpipe, blood and tears marring his face as Willy focused on choking the life from him the old fashioned way. Darryl tried to launch himself from the Library’s grip but the corpse only clung tighter. “No matter what, okay?”

            The twins looked at each other briefly, nodded, then clasped hands. “FATHER WE LOVE YOU TOO!”

            Then Paeden screamed something incoherent into his gag and a brilliant flash of green light filled the room.

            “Oh are you kidding me?”

            There was a shout of surprise as Willy Stampler was blown forward, crashing soundly into the high table with enough force to make the whole table skid backward. It collided with the hooded figure, who let out a sharp grunt and scrambled out of his seat, the most movement he had made so far. As he did so, the zombies seated around the room clearly grew restless, rising from their seats and starting to meander blindly, grabbing at each other and clawing mindlessly at their own skin. Even the two holding Paeden dropped him to the ground and wandered off leaving him clearly unconscious. Only the Library’s body seemed unchanged, still holding Darryl as tightly as before, even if the absent stroking had stopped a while ago.

            Some zombies were trying to get close to Henry, but there was no chance of that happening in the wake of what he had become. Darryl couldn’t help but stare because Henry looked resplendent.

            His hair, normally shoulder-length and dirty, was flowing out down to his knees and absolutely matted through with exotic flower buds and twisting vines. His ears came to long, sharp points, and his eyes were the most vivid green Darryl had ever seen. His clothes rippled around his body as though caught in a wind, though that was more likely due to the radiant green aura that surrounded him, ebbing and flowing with magic.

            As zombies approached, the ground would burst up in front of them, sometimes accompanied by a gnarled root or spray of dirt that would easily knock them backwards. Enveloped by Daddy Magic, they were nothing to Henry’s power.

            The Library’s body was starting to pull Darryl backward, well out of the path between Henry and Willy. Darryl only struggled against it slightly, feeling rather sure he didn’t want to be in that line of fire either.

            “Father! You look so cool!” Sparrow shouted.

            “Father, is this your Doodler power? Did you figure out how to control it instead of letting it take over your mind?” Lark asked loudly.

            “Father, mayhaps you could teach us how to gain this power as well mayhaps mayhaps?”

            Henry laughed, and his voice echoed with an inherent, deep warmth that settled into Darryl’s skin like the glow of a hearth. “Boys, this is better than the Doodler. This is Daddy Magic. I could never have done this without you. You boys, the love I have for you, this is the power loving someone can give you! And as long as you believe in me, there’s nothing I can’t do!”

            Willy scrambled to his feet, using the table for support. He stared at the twins with gritted teeth. “Are you little monsters betraying me? You weak, stupid little… you’re just as worthless as your father! A waste of space! You’ll die bloody, just like him!”

            “Hmm, how about no?” Lark shrugged, grabbing Sparrow’s arm and pulling him aside. The hooded figure, Terry, was standing still again. Darryl noticed some of the zombies were staggering back to their seats as well.

            “Yay, father! Fuck him up!” Sparrow cheered.

            “Language!” Henry shouted.  Then the ground ripped open in front of Willy and a goddamn cascade of mud shot from the ground and enveloped him, pushing him and the table backwards and hitting Terry in the stomach again. The kid fell back on the floor, but his hood stayed up. The zombies immediately began grunting and shambling aimlessly again.

            This time the Library changed too. His grip tightened for a moment, and then Darryl was released and the Library began to stumble away in the direction of Terry. Darryl watched it apprehensively for a second and then hurried over to where Paeden was lying on the floor getting splattered with tiny mud droplets so that he could gather the unconscious kid into his arms. He wasn’t sure how much he could do, but he could at least get Paeden away from the fight.

            Henry was grinning now. “I’m sure you thought you were… un-peat-able.”

            “Aw, dad…” Lark groaned as Willy gasped and blubbered under the mud.

            Henry giggled with delight. “Unlike silt build up, it won’t take me years to bury you!”

            “Come on, that hurts…” Sparrow moaned.

            “ENOUGH!” Willy hacked, managing to move himself to the edge of the spray. Henry laughed again and redirected. He fell to the ground, looking more like a brown slug than a person at this point.

            “You look pretty ba-salty! You took my ‘weakness’ for granite, but now your plans have come to a stone still!”

            “Uh, ok Henry that’s enough geology puns…” Darryl said slowly as he started edging toward Terry with the aim to scoop him up too.

            The mud stopped flowing when Willy stopped thrashing. The heaving chest told them he hadn’t been smothered yet as he looked up at Henry with angry eyes.

            “F-fuck off,” Willy muttered, spitting up mud.

            “Oh look, a fossil to examine! Oh wait, it’s just Ron’s dad. Pity.” Henry grinned down at Willy, eyes glowing bright green. VERY bright green actually. “Your attacks suck by the way. Is your mind being eroded by dementia and your skills weathered away?”

            Willy squinted. “That’s a little harsh coming from you.”

            “What’s wrong Willy? Can’t take a joke?”

            Willy’s laugh came sharp and jarring. “You’re the joke! Imagine having all that power and not using it?” Suddenly, three black tendrils erupted from Willy’s hands and launched toward Henry. This time however, they hit his pulsing aura and dissolved on impact as Willy swore.

            “Your strata-gy seems to be fault-y. I have a solution for you, maybe you should vent and get some of your problems off your tectonic plate!”

            “So what are you going to do? Kill me?” Willy spread his arms. He looked a sorry state sitting in the mud as he was.

            Henry’s smile dropped, but his eyes glowed brighter. “I- n-no? I… b-but I guess I sh-should, shouldn’t I? And you… you already died on Earth so maybe you… I should…?”

            He looked at Lark and Sparrow who were watching him with wide eyes. Then he turned and stared at Darryl, who bit his lip and then settled Paeden back on the ground again.

            “If you don’t want to kill him in front of your boys, I can do it for you.”

            “Oh great, how noble of you…” Willy muttered, rolling his eyes.

            “Jesus Darryl, are you sure? That’s Ron’s dad!”

            “I don’t give a shit, this guy’s done terrible things! And it’s not like he’s the first guy I’ve killed in this world. Go take care of Lark and Sparrow, I’ve got this.”

            Henry nodded slowly and stood aside, moving toward his sons that dove for him and the three met in a beautiful embrace. The green aura flooded around them, and more flowers bloomed in Henry’s hair every moment.

            “Cute,” Willy sneered before turning to Darryl with a snort. “So, since you guys don’t realise how stupid you are, I’ll explain what you just did. You literally just doused me with mud, stopped doing the one thing that was stopping me from retaliating, and then walked away leaving this guy with no magic to kill me. Like that was going work. So… later.”

            Then Willy disappeared.

            “Huh? Oh, oh shit,” Henry gasped as Darryl stumbled backwards and then on instinct turned on his heel to run for Paeden.

            Willy appeared next to Paeden’s body before he even got close. Terry was already under one of his arms and struggling weakly, and when had that happened? The man flashed Darryl a smirk as he laid one hand on Paeden and then all three were gone, only eerie laughter echoing behind them.

            “FATHER!”

            “FATHER, ARE YOU OKAY?!” Darryl turned again to see Henry passed out, though at least it was expected this time.

            “Your dad’s okay, I promise,” Darryl said quickly, dropping to his knees beside his friend and gathering him into his arms. The Library was nowhere to be seen, but zombies were still milling around and some were getting close. “We… we got to get out of the building. We can still get back to the van, and… and we’ll…”

            The twins were staring at Darryl expectantly. They weren’t glowing anymore. They looked like kids again, exhausted, scared kids. And Henry was passed out. And there were zombies everywhere.

            “We’ll figure it out, but we have to move,” Darryl got to his feet with Henry over his shoulders. “Let’s go!”

Chapter 27: Escape

Summary:

In the aftermath of the battle with Willy, Darryl, Henry and the twins make a run for it.

Notes:

This week I endured the intense horrible pain of passing kidney stones, the effects of multiple pain meds, making terrible decisions and handling things really bad because of intense pain and meds, and as a result had some real hard hitting depression days, and it's... and it's Wednesday. Busy week. But this is done, it's going up, and there's only 3 chapters to go. End game time, what's up.

27 Escape

            The zombies, for all that they lunged at Darryl and the boys as they raced back into the courtyard and the van, didn’t seem to actually have any level of coordination and didn’t really do much to stop their escape other than the occasionally instinctual lunge. Luckily it seemed that Lark and Sparrow kept some of their scary lightning power even if it didn’t look quite as powerful as when they were taken over entirely by Doodler energy, and so they were able to clear a path without too much trouble. It did seem to take a toll on the twins however, and by the time they had burst into the cold night air from the relative warmth of the castle both of them were out of breath and starting to look properly afraid.

            Henry still hadn’t stirred either, though he had started snoring gently and honestly it would’ve been pretty cute if they all weren’t still in danger pf being zombie chew toys. Darryl headed straight for the van; it was still where he’d parked it earlier. He noticed the drawbridge had been drawn back up, but he resolved to deal with that in a second once they were in what he would like to think of as zombie-proof van. It would give him a safe moment to think anyway.

            Once the doors were pushed open the zombies that were nearest them had begun to wander outside, but otherwise the courtyard was clear so reaching the van wasn’t any trouble. It was still unlocked as well so Darryl wasted no time in opening the back hatch and setting Henry on top of the little makeshift bed of cushions and blankets that had taken the place of the back seat at some point. He hoped that Scam and Glenn hadn’t made use of it at any point, but there wasn’t much to do about it if they had. Lark and Sparrow scrambled into the back to be close to their father and Darryl hurried to shut the back and run around to get into the driver’s side door and close that too before locking up. He flipped the bird at the zombies that bumped blindly into the passenger side door, moaning and turning away as though they had hit a wall.

            “Alright, looks like we’re safe for right now,” Darryl said carefully as he turned in his seat to look into the back. “Is everybody okay back there?”

            “Yes! My brother Lark and I are unharmed and our father is sleeping peacefully!”

            Lark’s eyes lit up as another zombie smacked into the back of the van accidentally, rocking it. “Oh, father’s friend Darryl! Are you going to run over the zombies in your van like in one of the video games our father does not allow us to play mayhaps?”

            “Perhaps we could befriend the zombies, like in that movie that mother allowed us to watch while father was at a geology conference?”

            “I am not sure if Warm Bodies is indicative of the reality of Faerun zombies, brother.”

            “Mayhaps you are right, but that is still very disappointing.”

            “I still think running them over with the car would be the best and most entertaining choice! Get ‘em Darryl!”

            Darryl frowned. “I’m not running over any zombies with the van. Not until I figure out where I’m going anyway. The drawbridge is still up so I can’t just drive us out, the Library was the one who opened it before and he’s… not…” No, he won’t say it. Not yet. “Anyway, we need to figure out what to do. Uh, search the back of the van, maybe there’s some weapons or gear lying around in here we can use.”

            While the twins started making what was probably too much noise as they started tearing the back of the van apart, Darryl leaned over to search the glove box. There were gloves, obviously, a small ice scraper, the Honda Odyssey user manual, a bunch of napkins from McDonalds, tissues, emergency first aid kit, empty package of Charleston Chews, and…

            Darryl’s hand froze, eyes flying wide as his fingers skimmed over the edge of the little bag that he knew contained the Deck of Many Things.

            “Darryl! We have found a few daggers under the middle seats, may we arm ourselves with them?”

            “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, sounds fine,” Darryl responded distantly as he picked up the bag and opened it, peering inside to confirm that yep, that was the Deck of Many Things alright. Had the other dads tried to use it since way back when the Library had drawn from it all that time ago? No way to know unless he waited for Henry to wake up, and he wasn’t sure he had enough time for that. There was every chance Willy would come back, regroup, and make the zombies a legitimate threat again.

            This deck was, in a way, the reason they were at this castle to start with. What would the Library have done with him if he hadn’t had a castle to keep him in? Would he not have put the offer on the table to start with and just gone ahead and eaten him? Or would he have just kept travelling around as usual and just kept Darryl in his stomach all the time pressed into the walls by a pile of books?

            … yeah, he was pretty sure getting trapped in this castle was a better deal than either of that. The Deck definitely helped him out that time, even if it didn’t save him completely. Maybe it could do it again? He could only draw from it once, and there was a lot of terrible things it could do, but if he got the Fates or Moon, he could undo something from the past. He could undo coming to the Forgotten Realms! Or maybe undo Willy Stampler coming to the Forgotten Realms? How powerful could this wish be, anyway? He was never clear on that. Maybe he could just undo coming to the Library’s castle, then the Library wouldn’t have gotten hit by the twins.

            Darryl made to pull the cards out of the bag when there was a groan from the backseat.

            “FATHER!”

            “FATHER YOU HAVE RETURNED TO US!”

            “Huh? Oh… oh boys! Oh my beautiful boys! I- ah! C-can’t breathe, choking!”

            “SORRY FATHER, WE MUST SHOW YOU OUR LOVE!”

            “WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH, FATHER! WE ARE SORRY WE ALLOWED OURSELVES TO BE TEMPTED BY GREAT EVIL!”

            “EVEN IF IT WAS SUPER FUN AND HONESTLY I KIND OF WANT TO DO IT AGAIN!”

            “Ooh, well uh, I’m glad you’re not, and if you need to talk about how you want to, uh, you can talk about it with me anytime! But please don’t do it again, I don’t really like the influence the Doodler had on you boys.”

            “Hey Henry!” Darryl asked as he ran his thumb over the edge of the Deck. “Uh, did you know the Deck of Many Things was in the glovebox?”

            “The Deck of Many Things? Well golly gee whiz Darryl, you know I was wondering where that thing had scampered off to! Everything was such a mess after we left you behind, I must have shoved it in there and forgotten all about it!”

            “Heh, yeah you must have, or else you would’ve used it to try and bring me back when you thought I was dead.”

            “Uh...” Henry swallowed lightly. “Well, you DID say to not try to help you and just save the kids?”

            “Well, yeah of course I said that but- never mind, it’s fine. Uh, but since we have it and the doors shut and there’s zombies everywhere and Willy’s nearby, should we try using it now?”

            Henry’s breath hissed between his teeth. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea Darryl. There’s a LOT of really dangerous cards in that deck, and the Library already took two of the good ones. We already got most of the kids back and Willy’s on the run, I think we should save the Deck as a last resort kind of thing, you know?”

            Darryl’s face pinched, but he knew Henry had a good point. He slid the deck back into its bag and tucked that into his pant pocket. “Ok, well, how do you feel? Can you do any spells?”

            “Uh,” Henry squinted for a second and made a few grunting noises before giving up. “I think I’m down to cantrips until I can get a proper rest, that Daddy Magic power-up really took it out of me.”

            “So you aren’t going to be able to lower the bridge.” Darryl took a deep breath in through the nose and out through the mouth, rubbing his steering wheel gently. “When we were in the jail cell, I found my cell phone and called Scam for backup. But without the van, it’ll take them a while to reach us. We can’t just wait around. I think we’re going to have to try to get out through the labyrinth. We have to go back in through the dining hall.”

            “You mean we have to go back through those guys? Urgh,” Henry made a face as another zombie hit the window nearest him, its half-emaciated face smearing goo across it as it slumped and reoriented itself to lurch away again.

            “I’ll probably drive us closer to the door, but if there’s still some inside then yeah I think we have to.”

            Henry took a breath of his own. “Okay. Lark, Sparrow, I’m gonna need you boys to be brave for me, but-“

            “YES, WE ARE BRAVE!”

            “BUT!” Henry stressed, “I ALSO need you both to be GOOD, and to hold my hands the whole time we’re out of the car so you don’t get separated, okay?”

            “Okay Father! Our love will hold the Oak boys together!”

            “That’s right Sparrow, thank you. And what about you, Lark? That’s okay with you?”

            Lark was clearly pouting, but nodded his head. Darryl nodded along and reached out to grab the steering wheel with his hands and realized at the last moment that in his right hand was a card from the Deck of Many Things.

            “AH!” Darryl gasped, startling and nearly dropping the card as he did so.

            “What’s wrong?!” Henry yelled from the backseat, already on his feet and stooped against the van roof.

            “I’m holding a card from the Deck! I swear I just had the Deck in my pocket!” Darryl looked down at his lap where the bag now sat, the pull-string opened enough to have slipped out a card. “Can the Deck make you pull things out without knowing it?!”

            “No, no I don’t think it can do that. What card is it Darryl?”

            “Oh, right, uh,” Darryl flipped over the card in his hand. “It’s the… oh my god, it’s the Fates.”

            “What! The Fates?! You can undo something, Darryl! You can fix all this, send us home! Oh, but we gotta be careful what we wish for, because if we wish we never went through that portal then they might just come get us later which would just be a waste. OH! Darryl, you could wish the Library didn’t die!”

            Darryl nodded, head still spinning over why he had drawn from the Deck at all. “Right, right, and if the Library didn’t die he could open the gate too! So… I wish that-”

            The Fates card evaporated in Darryl’s hand.

            “Uh, what just happened?” Henry asked as he pulled himself up and into the front seat.

            “The card just vanished! Just… poof! Did I take too long to answer? Why would that- how is that possible?”

            “I… I don’t know?” Henry’s brow furrowed in thought. “Maybe… oh! Maybe you already drew that card in another timeline and used it to fix something even worse than the Library dying that happened in another timeline and we wouldn’t know what it was! And maybe that’s why you drew that card just now, to avoid a uh, a paradox or something!”

            “I guess that makes sense,” Darryl frowned down at the bag and pulled the string closed again, passing the Deck to Henry. “Maybe you should hold on to this for now, though.”

            “Yeah, sure thing. I wonder what you undid from that other timeline? Must’ve been something pretty awful.”

            “Probably. I guess.” Something didn’t feel right but Darryl didn’t have time to dwell on it now. “We uh, we should get going before Willy tries to come back.”

            With a noise of affirmation from Henry and two loud yells of attack from the back seat, Darryl started the van and pumped the gas pedal.

            Nothing happened.

            “Oh my god there’s no fuel in the tank.” Darryl closed his eyes, feeling rage prickle under his skin. Then he slapped the steering wheel and swore. “Fuck it, grab your kids we’re just going to run for it.”

*

            Luckily, the short rest in the car was long enough for Darryl to get his second wind, and punching a path through the zombies with Henry hot on his heels with a twin under each arm proved to be simple enough. The Great Hall was a lot less crowded now that a bunch of the zombies had wandered out of it, and Darryl had no problem continuing to lead the small group down the side stone corridor that would lead them to his former living quarters.

            It seemed that the Great Hall wasn’t the only room that had received an upgrade since Willy moved himself in. The corridor seemed much less dusty an dilapidated, and a quick peak into the couple of servants bedrooms he passed showed each other them looked clean and made up, did Willy keep the boys in them while they were here? A few of the doors were closed and he didn’t have time to check them, but he did notice the door to Darryl’s old bedroom stood open. A peek inside showed that it seemed largely untouched by redecoration, but Darryl  hadn’t let that particular room get dirty while he was living in it and it was already pretty made up so that made sense.

            He slowed to a stop, however, when he noticed the desk had a book on it.

            “Why’d you stop, Darryl?” Henry asked as the twins squirmed in his grip and urged their father to let them go. Darryl pointed soundlessly to the book on the desk. “Uh, is that important?”

            “When the Library kept me here, this was my room.”

            “Oh! Really? Huh, well this doesn’t look so bad! It’s nice, like a little university dorm room! I mean, obviously the eating your flesh thing wasn’t very nice, but at least he didn’t have you chained up or anything.”

            “He didn’t need to, he could control my limbs at will.”

            “Oh yeah. Still though. Anyway, is that your book in there? Did you want to get it?”

            “I mean, uh, I didn’t have any books. The Library would leave me some in my room sometimes if he thought I could use them but I never read them. I don’t remember this one though, he must have left it here before we went to Rocqueporte.” Darryl entered the room cautiously and took a closer look at the book it question.

            The book was yellow, leather bound and thin, with gleaming black letters emblazed on the cover that read ‘Daddy Magic for Dummies.’ Darryl gaped at it for a second longer, scratching absently at his hand before picking the book up and waving it for Henry to see.

            “Oh my gosh! The Library had that the whole time and never told us?”

            “I mean, I never asked if had anything about Daddy Magic, and I’m not sure he knows what kind of books he has until someone asks him about them. The Library doesn’t know everything that’s in his books without reading them, so he might not automatically remember every book he owns without extra help either.”

            “Alright, but he just left it out here in the open and never mentioned it to you while you were going to Rocqueporte? That’s not very helpful. We’re lucky that Willy didn’t see this while he was wandering around in the castle though, he would’ve taken it so you wouldn’t find it.”

            “I guess he probably would have,” Darryl mumbled as he leafed through the book without taking in much information. He was never much of a reader, but though he could pass it to Henry to look through they really didn’t have time. He could hear moaning from the hall so at least one zombie had wandered into the narrow corridor. “Let’s keep going, we can look at this when we’re safe again.”

            And so the group continued on, passing the kitchen (again, this looked the same as before Darryl left and likely due to it being the only seriously renovated room in the keep) and finally reaching the royal bedroom. That’s where Darryl stopped dead in his tracks.

            The royal bedroom had clearly gone through the biggest facelift in the place, seeing as before it was probably the worst destroyed of all the rooms without a single piece of furniture left intact over the years. Now it gleamed with as much gold and heavy fabrics as it had in its heyday. There was a giant bed draped deeply in a red velvet comforter with a matching canopy. The wardrobes sported dark wood and gleaming gold handles, and a plush rug carpeted most of the floor. The whole place screamed regal and rich as hell. Not to Darryl’s tastes, but it figured Willy would like to believe he deserved a room like this one.

            Most notable and worrying, however, was the fact that the carpet was covering the hole in the floor and seemed by all appearances to have a solid floor beneath it.

            “Uh, so, I guess he patched the entrance to the labyrinth?”

            “Oh shoot! Where was it? The wall? Maybe it’s still there and he just closed it up again? It was probably like a secret passage, right?”

            “No, no, I fell into it the first time and it left a big hole in the floor. We never bothered fixing it, but I guess it makes sense Willy would.”

            “Alright, so shouldn’t there be another entrance then? A labyrinth isn’t any good if you can’t get into it, right?”

            “I mean, if there’s another way in I don’t know where it is.”

            “So we’re stuck?! I don’t have any spells left! And my boys are here!”

            “It’s okay Father, don’t panic!”

            “We can handle things, Father!” Lark and Sparrow rubbed at Henry’s back gently as the man desperately tried to control his breathing.

            Darryl swallowed. “Yeah, I’m not really sure what to do. I can’t punch zombies forever and I don’t know where Willy is. Uh, let’s just… let’s get out of here and…” In that moment, both Lark and Sparrow’s stomachs rumbled audibly and they squirmed more.

            “Oh man, did Willy forget to feed you guys again?”

            “We were eating food at the table when you came into the hall, but it wasn't very nourishing!”

            “We are very hungry now, Father!”

            “Hey Darryl, do you think we can stop off in the kitchen to try to find a healthy snack for the boys? I don’t want them to pass out or anything.”

            “Sure, yeah, maybe we can bar the door and come up with a plan in there or something,” Darryl heaved a sigh as they re-entered the corridor only to find several zombies were now stumbling around out there. With yet another sigh, Darryl mimed rolling up his sleeves and got back to punching.

*

            Back in the kitchen for a closer look, Darryl realized his first assessment was wrong. The room had some form of upkeep to it, or it would’ve been grimier after the Library and Darryl being away for a month. There was a faint smell of rotting vegetables in the cupboards, which was a little weird since the rest of the room had been cleaned, but otherwise the pots and pans were shining and even the counter shone slightly in the light from the fire still lit in the open oven.

            After double checking the space for unexpected zombies, Darryl shut the door and heaved the heavy wood table in front of it, grateful that it opened inwards. At least if something tried to open the door they would have enough warning to get ready for it. Sure it seemed like Willy could pop in whenever he wanted but if they were lucky he had gone further away than just another room in the keep and wasn’t looking for them.

            Darryl tossed Henry his cell phone. “Call Scam,” he instructed as he started opening the cupboards to look for any food that wasn’t spoiled. A few of the potatoes were sprouting but that could be cut off, and there should still be salted pork in the storage in the back that shouldn’t have gone off yet. The Oaks wouldn’t eat it, but Darryl could use the protein. There were some dried beans as well, but without the Library to magic him water he was going to have to try cooking them in vegetable oil and hope that hydrated them enough to eat. Cooking without water was hard.

            “Scam? But didn’t you say you already called him?”

            “Yeah, but we should update him and the other dads about what’s happened. Also, uh, Scam’s the one who helped me get out of the labyrinth the first time I tried. If he knows the way out of it, he might know the actual way in, too.”

            “I see! That’s very smart Darryl. I’ll call Scam right-” the phone in Henry’s hand started ringing. “Huh. Oh, looks like Scam is calling us!”

            “Of course he is,” Darryl rolled his eyes as he shooed Lark and Sparrow away from the open oven where they had been poking wooden ladles. “Can’t you two give it a rest for ten minutes?”

            “Scam wants me to put him on speaker, Darryl!”

            “That’s fine.”

            A button clicked. “My ears were burning Darryl, I could have sworn you two were talking about me just now!”

            “We were just about to call you,” Henry said quickly. Darryl didn’t bother to move from the pan he was frying potato slices in. “Things have been going uh, well, good and bad? I got my kids, but we’re still in the castle.”

            “Hm, yes I see. Do catch me up, won’t you? Last I heard you were in a jail cell, are you still there?”

            Darryl only half listened Henry blew through their doings from the last couple of hours. Lark and Sparrow were putting in their two cents here and there, and the whole scene of being in that kitchen cooking felt so familiar and domestic that Darryl nearly forgot that they were still in danger. For a moment, he could almost envision yelling for the Library to tell him his dinner was ready… he wasn’t going to get to do that again.

            His stomach clenched unexpectedly. Darryl worried his lip as he flipped the potato pieces over. This kitchen was where the Library had carved him up over and over. Related to that, it was also where he got sucked off over and over. It’s where the Library first asked to fuck him, where Darryl first saw him naked…

            ((“I would really, really like to fuck you.” “That sounded so weird.” “Perhaps you’d prefer the term ‘make love’?))

            Darryl’s stomach flipped again.

            “Interesting. And where was my cousin in all this?”

            “Uh, good question, um, just hold on a sec?” Henry covered the mouthpiece of the phone and looked at Darryl, who had the knee-jerk reaction to look over his own shoulder at the question and met Henry’s eyes.

            “I don’t know if we should tell him, Scam’s unpredictable. It’s Willy’s fault, but he might blame the twins, or us, and we don’t need someone else coming to kill us right now.”

            “So what do I tell him?”

            “The zombies dragged him off and we haven’t seen him. That’s vague enough, right?”

            “I guess,” Henry took his hand off the phone and relayed that information. Scam made a thoughtful noise.

            “Locked up somewhere then, hmm? Sounds like a good opportunity to save his ass and get a favor owed! Well, I’ve arranged some transportation and the rescue party is en route. We’ll try to meet you at the end of the labyrinth. Darryl should remember the way. Head north at all costs, you remember the spell for that?”

            “Henry’s out of spell slots.”

            “Oh. Well, what about his sons? It’s not a high level spell.”

            “I think I can still do spells!” Sparrow said loudly even as Lark shrugged.

            “Excellent! So we’ll see you at the end of the maze.”

            “Wait! We don’t know how to get into the maze now, Willy patched the hole. Do you know how to get in?”

            “I mean it’s under the whole keep, seems to me you just need to put a hole in the floor anywhere.”

            Henry and Darryl exchanged looks again. The guy had a point.

            “Alright Scam, that’s pretty good advice, we’ll probably give that a shot. We’re just going to have a quick snack and head out then.”

            “Ooh, what kind of snack? Can you save any for me? It’s been a long trip made in a very short time!”

            “Well there’s not a lot here, but we’ll see what we can do,” Darryl affirmed as he took the potatoes from the pan and then set the pork in it to sizzle while he gave the beans in the other pan a stir.

            “Alright, I’ll be seeing you soon!” Scam announced melodiously as he hung up on his end.

            “Alright, you guys can get started on the potatoes and beans,” Darryl said as he set a couple of plates on the table pushed up to the door. There wasn’t a ton of other options after all.

            “Thanks Darryl, that’s nice of you to cook for me and my boys,” Henry replied sunnily as Lark and Sparrow began eating ravenously. At this rate Darryl doubted Scam would be getting anything, but there wasn’t much to be done about that just then. “How about while they’re eating I get a look at that book the Library left you? I have to admit this Daddy Magic thing is pretty amazing, I’d love to learn more about it!”

            “Huh? Oh yeah, sure,” Darryl shrugged and picked up the book from the counter where he had left it and passed it to Henry.

            Once the boys were eating they started to quiet down, and Darryl noticed their eyelids starting to droop, likely from exhaustion, the comfort of eating, and the warmth of the kitchen. Not the best circumstance to be napping since they had to work on escaping the castle soon, but at least they were settled down for a moment. The only sounds in the room were chewing, fire crackling, distant moans from beyond the hall, and the casual flipping of pages as Henry read.

            “Huh,” Henry said after a while.

            “Did you find something?”

            “Well, it’s just- I mean, obviously this isn’t a very in depth guide, but I have to assume Daddy Magic probably worked differently before it got locked inside of Paeden is all.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “Well the introduction of the book says that Daddy Magic is an ancient art passed down through the ages only accessible to fathers, but apparently it’s usually just like, a more low key, passive kind of thing? It cites examples like being able to open stuck doors after everyone insists they can’t be opened, or enhancing reflexes to be better at rescuing kids from danger, causing higher psychic damage with puns than normal… it says it has more uses but most dads never really unlock the ‘full potential’ of daddy magic more than once in their life. Uh, I don’t know if that’s a rule or just how things are- or were before Willy.”

            “I guess that makes sense. Is there Mommy Magic, too?”

            “Yeah, it mentions there’s a companion guide.”

            “Cool. Anything else?”

            “I’m not that far in, but it does also say that at its furthest extent, Daddy Magic can bring a dad’s powers to their height in a single miracle instant, which can only be achieved through creating a strong bond between father and child and experiencing a moment of true understanding, the catalyst for this moment being unique. This moment will exemplify a father’s most powerful trait of dad-hood, the core value through which their bond with their child is shaped.” Henry hummed. “Well, I think I know what mine is! The second it happened, I was just… so full of unconditional love for my boys, I couldn’t think of anything else!”

            Darryl snorted, but he was smiling. “Yeah, I think unconditional love fits as the core of your parenting style.”

            “Darn tootin’! What do you think yours is, Darryl?”

            “Huh,” Darryl frowned in thought. “Well, Paeden did scream ‘mutual trust’ when he set off my transformation, so I guess it might be that? … yeah, actually, I think that fits. Things are always rockiest with Grant when we don’t have trust, but when we can really trust each other then we make a pretty awesome team I think.”

            “That’s a wonderful value to have, Darryl! I’m so proud of you!”

            Darryl blushed. “Yeah well, it’s not that big a deal. What do you think Glenn’s was?”

            “Uh,” Henry frowned, brow furrowing. “He uh… you know what? Glenn doesn’t really talk about him and Nick much and what he does doesn’t really sound that great? I have no idea what the core of their relationship is. Maybe being a friend?”

            “Being a friend isn’t the same as being a dad, though.”

            “It can’t be letting them do whatever they want. And don’t look at me like that! I guide my boys in what I hope is the right direction!”

            “I know, I know. Geez. Maybe Glenn is… influence, though? I mean, Nick’s just like him.”

            “Yeah, maybe.” Henry flipped ahead a few pages, skimming along the way. “It also sounds like you can use Daddy Magic to make your kids do what you say, though this book cautions against overuse? Which makes sense. That’s probably what Willy wants it for. We should probably find a way to release it back into the world when we fight him again, it sounds like having it all concentrated on doing evil might be really bad for Faerun as a whole.”

            Darryl paused for a moment after he swallowed the last of his food. “Wait a second, Willy said he basically made Paeden out of all the Daddy Magic in this world, right?”

            “I think he did, why do you ask?” Henry gasped suddenly and clapped a hand over his mouth. “You don’t think we’d have to hurt Paeden to get the Magic out of him, do you?”

            “I-I hope not? God. Let’s uh, let’s just work on one thing at a time. Right now we gotta get your boys to safety and meet up with the others so we can plan our next move.”

            Right! So, we gotta make a hole through the floor?”

            “Sounds like it,” Darryl stood up with a screech from his chair along the stone floor and walked into the empty space where the table had been before he had moved it. It was as good a place as any to try this. He was unlucky that first time that the royal bedroom’s floor had been unusually weak, but this wouldn’t be the first time he toppled something made out of stone in this world. He raised a foot and slammed it down on the floor as hard as he could, the sound of impact loud and echoing.

            It left an indent, sure, but it didn’t make the floor crumble. Darryl huffed and tried again. The indent seemed even shallower this time. Darryl grit his teeth. “Henry, I need to get angrier. Say something to piss me off.”

            “Uh, I’m not sure that’s the right course of action Darryl. You know anger never really solved anything, and even though it’s a natural emotion I think it would be better if you talked things out.”

            Darryl felt a spark of irritation in his gut. “Yeah, that’s working, keep going.”

            “What do you mean? Darryl, stop trying to get angry, maybe try some deep breathing instead? I’ll breathe with you! This sort of bottle up and explode method of anger management really isn’t healthy!”

            A pulse point stuck out in Darryl’s forehead as he yelled in rage and jumped up horizontal to the floor.

            “Darryl! This isn’t safe! We'll come up with a rational idea. Calm down, you’re going to-”

            Darryl’s fist reared back and then forward as he punched a hole clean through the floor of the kitchen.

            Henry blinked as he got up to peer down the hole at where Darryl sat breathing on the ground, scuffed up but seeming unharmed.

            “Huh, maybe violence can be the answer after all?”

            “YAY, VIOLENCE!” Lark and Sparrow yelled as they jumped into the hole after Darryl before Henry could stop them.

            Henry huffed. “Well I guess at this point I’ve used violence enough, don’t want to be a hypocrite… Hooray for violence, just this once!” Henry said cheerfully as he hopped down the hole as well, leaving the warmth of the kitchen for the damp cold of the tunnels beneath.

*

            The trip through the tunnels felt considerably safer than the one through the corridors upstairs. Sparrow led the way with the Know Direction spell while Henry held a palm full of ‘produce flame’ over his son’s head the light the way while Darryl and Lark followed on their heels, their footsteps and breathing echoing liberally around them.

            “This is so cool!” Lark called spontaneously, laughing as his words came back to him several times over.

            “Shh! Lark, we don’t know what might be down here!” Henry whispered back.

            “Well uh, there shouldn't be anything,” Darryl reassured, albeit uneasily. “As far as I know there was only a Minotaur down here when I got to the castle, and the Library killed it on my second day here after I fell in.”

            “Okay, but what if Willy reanimated the Minotaur’s corpse like he did all the townspeople and the Li- well, you know.”

            “Yeah, uh, there wouldn’t uh, there wouldn’t be much left to reanimate. The Minotaur got, um, eaten.”

            “Ah, right, that makes sense that the Library would eat a Minotaur since he’s already fine with eating humans. Definitely shady territory there if anyone else ate one though.”

            “Mmhm,” Darryl said non-committedly as he silently vowed never to let Henry know that he helped the Library eat the Minotaur. Some secrets he was more than happy to take to the grave and grovel to God about, and eating a monster-man leg was one of them. Of course, not a full minute passed after everyone felt reassured before the sound of a long drawn out moan sighed its way up the passage and rattled everyone’s nerves again.

            “What the heck was that?” Henry hissed, grabbing Sparrow’s shoulder and pulling him close as Darryl did the same with Lark.

            “I don’t know! I guess something else might’ve come down here since the Minotaur, it’s not like we spent a lot of time down in the tunnels. Just uh, keep moving and get out of here before whatever it is finds us.”

            “Um, father’s friend Darryl, do you suppose whatever moaned just now might have been a giant floating cyclops skull with a glowing red eye?”

            “Lark, I really don’t like how specific that was.”

            “Because-”

            A red flash of light filled the tunnel and Darryl had only a second to grab Henry and push him down to miss most of the laser beam that burned just over their heads, singing their hair.

            “RUN!” Darryl screamed as Henry re-lit his flame and the four ran down the tunnel pursued by giant floating skull toting a laser beam eye. The group narrowly dodged beam after beam as they went, still following Sparrow’s guidance but definitely at a disadvantage if they didn’t find the exit soon. The skull didn’t have legs and lungs to tire, but humans certainly did.

            “I REALLY WISH SCAM WAS HERE!” Henry screamed as they rounded a corner.

            “Ask and you shall receive!” The cheerful voice of Scam Likely came from the darkness ahead of them, his face slowly illuminating as they drew closer. His hand raised and a bolt of light shot out passed the group and the red light flooding the corridor from the eye winked out.

            Scam shook his head as the four humans in front of him put their hands on their knees and started panting. “Wow, overcome by a Zombie Beholder? That’s just sad really, they aren’t even very high level at all. I thought you guys had a short rest?”

            “We did, shut up, Henry’s out of spells,” Darryl snapped.

            “Wow, touchy.” Scam looked over his shoulder. “Hurry up! I found them!”

            “Give us a second, you took off running so f-fucking fast,” Glenn’s voice sounded ragged as the pattering of many running footsteps and a faint glowing light came into view in the tunnel behind Scam Likely.

            “Dad! Are you okay?”

            “Grant! Yeah, I’m fine- woah!” Darryl gasped as Grant pealed out of the blackness and dove straight into his arms, hugging him tight around the torso. “Glad to see you too son, that’s uh, that’s a strong grip!”

            “Scam said you might die so I- ew, Dad you smell like uh, corpses. No offense.”

            “No, yeah, uh, there’s a lot of zombies in the castle right now. But look, we saved the twins!”

            “Hello friend Grant!”

            “Yes, hello! Good to see you, hope you’ve been killing less people than we have!”

            Henry laughed awkwardly and pulled his boys back against him. “Maybe we shouldn’t bring that up to everyone we see, huh?”

            Glenn strolled up next with Nick tucked firmly under his arm. “Good to see you guys didn’t get too fucked up in prison. Shame you didn’t get any cool scars or an eyepatch though, heh.”

            Henry rolled his eyes. “We were only in a cell for a few hours, Glenn.”

            Glenn shrugged. “It’s okay, not everyone can get hot in prison.”

            “So you got everyone? Are we going home now?” Nick asked quickly, scanning the group.

            An excited voice chimed in behind them. “They got everyone? Terry Junior! Are you there? It’s me, Ron! I know it’s been a long time, but I worked really hard to remember what you look like this time and uh…” Ron came into the light of Henry’s flame while holding his own little torch. His face fell. “And uh, because I did that, I know that Terry Junior is definitely not here.”

            “Sorry Ron, Willy grabbed him and Paeden and vanished leaving us stuck in the castle with zombies. We have no idea where he is now.”

            “Well he’s definitely still in the castle!” Scam said happily, turning his gaze skyward. “I definitely still sense a lot of necrotic energy up there, and zombies don’t really give out that strong of a signature after they’re animated. He’s definitely still kicking around!”

            “Oh, well that’s good to know. Ron, as soon as we get the rest of the kids out to safety, we’ll march right back in here to save Terry Junior, okay?” Henry reassured, but Scam scoffed.

            “Are you crazy? Willy Stampler is one of the most powerful necromancers I’ve ever seen! Even with all of us at full power we might lose, and you don’t have any spells left! The only way you’ll stand a chance is with Daddy Magic, and you only have Daddy Magic if you have your kids with you, right?”

            “He’s right, Father! You can’t leave us behind! We must follow you into battle!”

            Grant looked up at Darryl with fire in his eyes. “Dad, we have to do this together if we want to go home to mom, right?”

            Darryl breathed a deep sigh, but nodded. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna need you for this one, bud.”

            “Oh, so the Library isn’t going to be keeping you around either, huh? Why, because he accidently almost killed you?” Scam asked flatly. “Figures. You Earth humans are so fickle.”

            “Hey man, we have lives! I told you, if you want to try coming to Earth to party someday I’m all for it!” Glenn huffed. “Wear whatever face you want, you can crash at my place anytime.”

            “Except my true face, right?” Scam said with a cheeky grin. Glenn rolled his eyes.

            “I mean, unless you want to freak everyone out. It’s hot but it’s not exactly human. Or uh, easy to look at that long.”

            “I’m not exactly human either, Glenn!” Scam giggled as he leaned in to kiss Glenn on the cheek while Nick made gagging noises. Then Scam looked at Darryl again with a slightly more contrite pull to his eyebrows. “My poor cousin must be very distraught to hear you’re leaving him. Oh, and of course we’ll have to save him as well while we’re up there!”

            Henry bit his lip, sucking air in through his nose. “Yeah uh, yeah the Library is uh, definitely alive and uh, he’s um, he’s definitely in danger and uh, he uh, he…”

            “The Library’s dead,” Darryl cut Henry off. His voice was dull and sapped of strength. He couldn’t just ignore it anymore, he wasn’t going to lie to everyone here just because he couldn’t face it. And if Scam was going to throw a fit, at least they were all there to fight him off together. “Willy made- well, Willy had him killed. He reanimated him as one of the zombies.”

            Scam stared at Darryl with wide eyes. Then he immediately started laughing.

            “OOOOH, the Library’s dead is he? Well, well, WELL! Looks like SOMEONE is still taking pages from Scam Likely’s Book of Handy Scams!”

            “What? I’m serious! I watched him die! He didn’t have a pulse!” Darryl snapped, “And he’s a zombie now!”

            Now Scam rolled his eyes. “If I can sense Willy Stampler scampering around up there, trust me that I am fully capable of sensing by own cousin. My very much alive cousin at that. Trust me, he’s fine.”

            “What, but that-” Darryl recalled how the Library acted different from the other zombies even when Terry Junior was distracted. The thumb stroking his back. His face immediately flushed bright red. “That… that son of a bitch! He made me think he- I was about to- THAT FUCKING-”

            His palm was itchy. His right palm. The one the Library bit off in the car. With a deep, deep breath to steady himself, Darryl put on his best glare and raised his hand to look at the eye bashfully batting its eyelashes at him.

            “You’re lucky I don’t give you pink eye again.”

            Blink blink blink.

            “You’ve been alive THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

            Blink.

            “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?!”

            The eye started blinking rapidly again and Darryl growled. “I don’t know what you’re trying to- hey, let go!” Darryl tried to pull his hand away but Scam had grabbed his wrist and was watching the blinking carefully and nodding along.

            “Alright, well Morose Code wasn’t really designed for conveying long messages, but I believe my cousin has some sort of plan cooked up with Ron’s son, but is going to need some kind of distraction to make it work. Lucky for him, distractions are the easiest trick in the Scam Likely Book!”

            “Huh, maybe I should learn Morse Code…” Darryl muttered as he took his hand back. The eye was looking at him again now. “I’m still really mad, you know!”

            Blink.

            “After this, you owe me big time!”

            Blink.

            “You better not EVER do something like this again!”

            Blink.

            “And another thing! You-” Darryl’s arm went dead and his hand pulled in against his cheek where eyelashes fluttered against his skin. Darryl’s lips pressed together and his hand moved over them next, still peppering butterfly kisses. After a few seconds, Darryl pushed the hand away with his left and looked at the eye with a slightly more mollified expression. “We’ll talk later. Just stay safe this time!”

            Blink. Then a hard look. The eye vanished.

            “So how are we going to make a distraction?” Ron asked, bringing attention back to the matter at hand for once. “Are we going to do the plan we came up with back at Scam’s place?”

            “Might as well,” Scam shrugged. “It’s the only reason we brought the brat along to start with.”

            “Don’t call me a brat!” Another young voice came out of the darkness and Darryl’s eyes widened in surprise to see what appeared to be a thirteen year old boy with dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and a skinny physique. He looked like a young Benedict Cabbagepatch. “I don’t want to be here anyway!”

            “I’ll call you what I want, oh bratty little brother of mine! Anyway, you have to be here because I can’t shapeshift into kids, and you are just the perfect size to do a good impression!” Scam grinned at Darryl and Henry. “We thought that if Willy Stampler wants a kid willing to bond with him so bad, let’s give him one!”

            “Uh…” Darryl and Henry looked at each other, even as Glenn and Scam high fived.

            “I was the one who said Willy would only need one kid, so we should get a clone or something!” Glenn explained.

            “And Mark is perfect because after we leave him as bait and vamoose, he can just vanish and join us outside. That length of trip shouldn’t make him de-age that much again, but uh, well if it does we’ll deal with it.”

            “I don’t want to help!” Mark snapped petulantly and Scam clicked his tongue.

            “Now, now Mark, you know what’s riding on this. If you do this, I’ll owe you a favor! Think of all the things you could do with one favor from your big brother Scam Likely!”

            “It better be a good favor. I want something good.”

            “Yes, yes… whatever you want,” Scam brushed Mark off easily as the dads watched the exchange with concern. “Kids, right? I’m sure it’s a phase!”

            “I hate this fucking family,” Mark muttered with a scowl.

            “Anywho!” Scam said, smile still beaming across his face. “Which child should we offer up to Willy on a silver platter? And we need to pick fast, my cousin doesn’t seem to think we have much time!”

            Darryl took a deep breath and carded his fingers through Grant’s hair, more to soothe himself than anything. They were really going to do this. They would have their showdown with Willy, and go home, and then… then he would have to say goodbye to the Library for real. 

            It was leagues better than thinking the Library was dead, though. He would give himself a moment of relief over that one. Though he still might punch him when he saw him again if he didn’t get a VERY good reason why he let him think he was.

Chapter 28: Stepping Up

Summary:

The Library catches everyone up to speed, everyone tries to launch a plan, and Willy Stampler makes his move.

Notes:

Only 2 more chapters left holy shit this one took a while. But next chapter is our big climax and last chapter is basically an epilogue of sorts so... action! Drama! I hope this is ok idk I'm kind of burnt out on dndads rn so when I'm done this fic I probably won't be writing more fics for this fandom. But I hope I can at least close this one out with enough fanfare to have made the journey worthwhile lol.

28 Stepping Up

            Had the Library not just swallowed several hundred pounds of flesh immediately before getting hit by a bolt of powerful necrotic energy, he still might have survived it but he certainly would have stayed unconscious far longer. As it was, he had clawed his way back to the waking world while he was still in the process of being dragged through interior of the outer wall of his keep by a number of zombies.

            Of course, his first inclination was to pull himself free and devour these zombies as well, but his head was still spinning a bit any time he tried to lift it, so he figured it might have been more prudent to stay where he was and find out where they were trying to drag him to first. He did check in quickly with Darryl (he might not have intended to bite his hand off again, and altering his flesh to rejoin his flesh network might have been an involuntary action, but he would still take advantage of it) and he seemed to be safe enough even if he was currently in a cell.

            So the Library lay back and let himself be dragged to the base of one of the watchtowers, and at that point only moved enough to lift his head to avoid hitting it off every step on the way up seeing as he was being dragged by his feet. They emerged into the round room at the top of the tower. There had been a few narrow windows in this space but they had clearly been boarded up. A ladder leaned against one wall leading up to a trapdoor on the ceiling. In the center of the room was a wooden table with restraints made for beings with significantly fewer limbs than the Library had, and the walls of the room were set up with shelves full of spell components, a few notably used almost exclusively for necromancy. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where this was going, and the zombies heaved him up onto the table and then disappeared back down the staircase.

           Obviously none of them were going to check  if the Library was actually dead, though the Library did wonder at why Willy Stampler wouldn’t have considered the possibility he had survived. He must have been more confident in his protégés’ power than he should have been. Well, he had seemed pretty full of himself, so perhaps this wasn’t such a farfetched turn of events.

             The Library checked in with Darryl again. He seemed pretty upset if the occasional sniffle was anything to go by, though seemed to be physically unharmed. The Library entertained the thought he was crying over his former master's death for a moment, and also entertained the idea of letting Darryl know he was okay, but before he could come to a decision over that he heard more footsteps on the stairs and immediately let his head fall back against the table again. His tongue lolled out and eyes rolled back, limbs held stiffly around him in hopes of mimicking rigor mortis at a glance while being prepared to lash out an attack if need be.

             He remained in that position when two figures filled the doorway. Yes, the Library’s eyes were currently pointed toward the top of his skull, but flesh was subjective and he could get a sense of his surroundings without them if he concentrated. It was clear enough that his visitors were Willy Stampler and the smaller hooded figure from the roof. It was neither of the twins and so therefore was most likely Ron’s stepson Terry Junior.

            Willy hadn’t stayed long. He’d prodded the Library in the side once and he had made certain to still as much of himself as possible. Then Willy had clapped a hand on Terry’s shoulder, told him in a very firm voice not to let him down if he knew what was good for him, and left him ‘to it’.

            The Library had waited until Terry Junior had assembled his ingredients, spoken his words, and then had his face scrunch in confusion when the Library’s body didn’t obey his command before he shot out a hand and grabbed him. The scream was pretty funny before the monster clapped another hand over his mouth, but the kid had calmed down quite fast to his credit and proved a lot more willing to listen to reason than Grant ever had. He loved Darryl very much, but honestly, it was refreshing to speak to someone with common sense for once.

            “Good to know you’re willing to actually try a plan of escape and not just wait for your dad to rescue you,” the Library commented after a brief discussion about logistics.

            Terry Junior had snorted. “I mean, Ron… is trying. He really is, but uh, I don’t think I’d exactly trust him with my life. He’s no Superman.”

            “Fair enough! So let’s figure this out, shall we?”

            A plan was formed, and the Library could have told Darryl about his continued existence but given that part of Willy’s design involved the Library’s body being puppeted in front of him as a morale detractor it wouldn’t be good to bank on his acting skills.

            He did feel a little badly over it when he saw how absolutely devastated his former-pet looked when he saw the Library’s (admittedly very realistic) impression of being a walking corpse, and did try to soothe him and hint that he wasn’t as dead as he appeared, but unfortunately Darryl never really had been very quick on the uptake and didn’t end up catching on as far as the Library could tell. That had been fine of course, the Library was merely waiting for the opportunity to step in and distract Willy long enough for Terry to convince Lark and Sparrow that Willy was unworthy and should be eliminated. They would deal with their Doodler magic after Willy was gone. Of course, then there was a change of plans.

            Henry had proved himself more powerful than the Library had assumed he would and managed to unlock Daddy Magic. Seeing how effective that magic was against Willy was a bit of a shock. Of course the Library had seen Darryl use Daddy Magic to land a blow against the necromancer before to great effect, but that had been after the Library had perhaps worn him down with combat and he’d only gotten in the one strike before the man had fled.

            It was this that had gotten the Library to thinking that really, it was a shame they hadn’t been able to figure out exactly how to access that well of magic at will, especially after the discovery that Paeden needn’t be present to access it. If only his beloved books hadn’t been consumed, perhaps he might have found a tome that would have been of help.

            When Terry’s grip on the zombies broke prematurely, however, the Library was forced to release Darryl and try to reach the boy to get him to re-establish control.  He’d managed to get Terry to his feet before Darryl and Henry did something stupid and let Willy escape, but Terry was very clear.

            “Let him take me. If we don’t stop him here, he’ll just come after us again before we make it out of Faerun. Hell, he might try to follow us out of Faerun and I don’t want to risk that. The plan didn’t work, and I don’t think Lark and Sparrow can kill him like this, but if you’re still a ‘corpse’ I can justify ‘calling’ you back. He still thinks I’m on his side willingly, right?” Terry held up his pinky finger, the one that the Library had bitten off and reattached in that tower. The boy had shouted, but the Library was impressed with him for agreeing to it at all. Brave kid, all things considered. He could respect that.

            So Willy had grabbed Terry and Paeden and fled, and the Library lurched out into the halls and then the walls, waiting for Terry Junior to get a moment to tell him where they had been taken. He hadn’t had to wait long. Apparently Willy liked the tower aesthetic, and Terry’s necromancy lab wasn’t the only tower that Willy had decided to set up shop in.

            And if along the way, the Library had checked in with Darryl and noticed to his delight that he had rediscovered the Deck of Many Things, well, he figured using Darryl’s hand as his own after coming close to death twice might cause enough haze in the rules to allow him to do what he wanted. This time that being getting a technically usually not-allowed second draw from the Deck just to see if he could snag extra help in the coming battle (had it been something less savoury he was hoping he could pass the arm off as its own entity and perhaps just get Darryl’s arm sent into the Void. It would be a hard sell but the Library was ready to fight a Rules Lawyer any day, god he hated rules lawyers.).

            He had gotten the Fates though and well… he was the Library, he knew full well that he had no choice but to use the opportunity to undo the loss of his beloved books.

            As a means of apology, he swung by Darryl’s room before he joined Terry to tuck a book on Daddy Magic away in plain sight. Hopefully that would help out, he didn’t have time just then to read it himself.

            Then he had stationed himself near the tower where Terry was with Willy and presumably Paeden and waited, and then he had checked in with Darryl and found that he had not only made it most of the way through the labyrinth but had unexpectedly run into Scam and the other dads, and the Library had gone back to the Great Hall to meet them when Scam brought them back up through the alternate entrance to the tunnels.

            And then Darryl had punched him and demanded to know what he had been doing. And that had been very rude.

*

            “Rude?! You know what’s rude? Pretending to be dead! I thought you’d died, and I was fucking ready to mourn you, and I have to find out you’re faking from Scam FUCKING Likely!” Darryl raged when the Library finished speaking.

            “Why Darryl, did you miss me that much? I would have tho-” the Library was cut off when Darryl grabbed him by the cheeks and yanked him forward into an extremely passionate kiss. It was all tongue and teeth and the Library moaned into it harder than he’d thought possible.

Barbarians, right? Though he had pushed him backwards and slapped him again for good measure. “Ow! Darryl, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, does that help?”

“You better not!” Darryl snapped. Then he paused and glanced behind him at the other dads and sons who were all determined to look anywhere in the Great Hall (which was oddly devoid of zombies now) other than at the man and his monster in front of them. “Uh, a-anyway, we should probably go over what we’re going to do.”

“We’re going to get my son back, that’s what we’re going to do!” Ron said with a determined look on his face. Scam hummed loudly.

“Well that’s the hope, but this scam’s going to get a bit more complicated than that. Don’t worry, if it’s a distraction Terry Junior needs for uh, whatever he’d planning to do to Willy now, I can deliver! And that’s a Scam Likely guarantee! Right, Mark?” Mark flipped Scam off with a scowl and Scam giggled. “Kids, right?”

*

            It had been a brief argument over which kid Mark was going to imitate. He could do some magic, but wouldn’t be able to mimic what the twins could do, and after a discussion they decided that Willy probably wouldn’t buy that Grant decided to turn on Darryl because they had unlocked Daddy Magic together. Willy didn’t know that Glenn and Nick achieved that as well, and it would be easy enough to sell the idea that Nick was mad at Glenn for not coming to save him (since technically he… well, he didn’t).

            The plan would be simple enough. Mark disguised as Nick would climb the tower and ‘rat out’ the other dads (not mentioning Scam of course) informing Willy that they had come to save Darryl and Henry, and that Nick wanted to betray them and join Willy for power. He just needed to lure Willy away from Terry and Paeden long enough for them to run, and if things went south, Terry could let the Library know. Then Mark could teleport away, and when everyone was together with their kids and Paeden, they could hopefully get their Daddy Magic on again and take out Willy once and for all.

            It sounded foolproof enough to Ron anyway. After the Ravenloft escapade and hanging out at Scam’s house, Ron had sort of taken a back seat to everyone else in this rescue effort. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to actively be saving Terry Junior. On the contrary, that was what he wanted more than anything else in the world! But living off scraps in the walls of Ravenloft for so long was exhausting, and so was running to Scam’s, and then everyone seemed to be so upset all the time… Henry had called it ‘drama’. Well, drama was exhausting too.

            It left Ron feeling adrift more than usual and he’d ended up tuning out rather a lot of what had been going on. All he had been able to gather for sure was that they weren’t going to save Terry yet, and then Darryl and Henry and the Library went somewhere, and then Scam said they were in trouble, and then a dragon had shown up and flown them near to the castle they were in now but Scam said it couldn’t stay for contract reasons, and then there was tunnels, and then there was shouting about saving sons, only Terry Junior wasn’t one of the sons.

            But now Ron was pretty sure that they were finally moving to save Terry Junior and wow, he was really looking forward to seeing his step son again. The group had gathered up in one of the hallways, and it was a bit drafty, but it did remind Ron of the walls of Castle Ravenloft and he was feeling a little nostalgic over the whole thing as they waited for the Library to tell them that Mark had arrived at his destination.

            There was really only one problem with this plan, as far as Ron could tell. Distracting Willy and running away from him? Easy enough to do, Ron had learned how to do that very effectively as a child and it should be much easier when he wasn’t dependant on him for food and shelter. But everyone seemed so sure that they would be able to, well, stop Willy after that. And Ron wasn’t so sure that was possible.

            “Henry?” Ron asked, tugging on Henry’s shirt sleeve. He had to reach over Sparrow to do this, seeing as both twins were nestled snuggly at their father’s sides.

            “Yeah Ron? What’s up?” Henry asked quietly. No one seemed to want to make too much noise, though Ron was unsure why. Even Glenn and Nick were sitting side by side not far down the hall as well and seemed to be talking quietly to each other while Scam stood and kept watch down his end of the hallway to dissuade any of the stray zombies that were still lurking around from bothering them.

            “Um, I was just thinking uh, what if we just… after we get Terry Junior, what if we just leave and uh, not fight my dad? Would uh, would that be okay?”

            Henry bit his lip for a second and then nudged his boys, who both seemed to be falling into a doze after the prolonged lack of action. “Hey Lark? Sparrow? I need to speak to Ron alone for minute, okay?”

            The twins made some soft noises of confirmation, and Henry stepped away from them and gently pushed them together so they were leaning on each other instead. After a brief coo over how cute they were, Henry drew Ron a little further down the hall, past where the Library was sitting on the floor with his head on Darryl’s shoulder and his eyes closed, Grant sitting close enough for his leg to brush his dad’s but still clearly making a token effort to stay somewhat distant from the monster in question.

            Once they were far enough away that even Ron would think whispering wouldn’t be overhead, Henry turned Ron toward him and drew him into a tight hug. That was a shock, even though Henry was the most touch-positive of the dads, he never really hugged Ron enough for him to get used to the feeling. Then again, he even felt a little confused and helpless when Samantha hugged him unexpectedly. Maybe it was just him. Whatever the case, he didn’t know what to do with his hands and they hung limp at his sides while Henry began to whisper apologies into his ear.

            “Ron I’m so, so sorry. We’ve been here talking about taking out Willy for so long, and I think we all forgot that this is still  your dad and you probably have a lot of complicated feelings about that! I mean, when I killed my dad, or well, didn’t… didn’t stop him from killing… himself? In front of me? Aw geez I don’t know if I want to think about that. But… it happened really fast, and there wasn’t much other choice, and the Library killed Glenn’s dad without him even knowing. I guess having to actually think about facing down your dad and killing him is hard. Especially since I know you said he died in front of you the first time and I can only imagine how traumatic that was.”

            “Well, actually-”

            “But well, I mean, you have to see that Willy’s done a lot of really bad things. If we don’t stop him, he could still come after us and try to take the boys again! And even if he doesn’t, he wants to do terrible things to this world!”

            “I know, but-”

            “And it’s probably really hard to think about going through your dad dying again, but well, that’s just it isn’t it? He already died, so we’re not really… I mean, he’s almost… cheating? Oh boy okay so that’s a grey area. But still, I guess my point is, if you don’t want to be the one to do it, or if you can’t watch it happen, I understand. You don’t need to be there if you can’t handle it. I had a pretty good handle on Willy by myself with my Daddy Magic, so I’m sure if Darryl and Glenn we’ll be able to do it without you if it’s too much.”

            “Henry, that’s not it!” Ron snapped, and Henry’s mouth snapped shut. “I know my dad’s a terrible person, okay? I know he’s bad for the kids, a-and bad for this world, and I don’t- I d-don’t care if he-” Ron’s heart was beating hard in his chest and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I know what we have to do, but you don’t understand! It doesn’t matter that you killed yours and Glenn’s dads! It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t have Lark and Sparrow, he doesn’t… he doesn’t need anyone! My dad’s really strong, and smart, and if he wants to hurt us he will and there’s nothing we can do about it! He’s gonna- he-” Ron was breathing faster, his chest hurt, his eyes were prickling with tears. “We can run, and hide, and he might forget, okay? He might forget what he wanted, and let us go, but you can’t fight him, we can’t okay? We can’t, there’s no point, he’ll get us and-”

            “Ron, woah, slow down! It’s okay.” When had Darryl come up behind him?  He put a heavy hand on Ron’s shoulder while Henry grabbed his wrist and started telling him to breathe with him as Darryl slowly helped him sink down to his knees.

            “Hm, better get a handle on that,” Scam’s voice echoed down the hall. Ron glanced over his shoulder past Darryl to see the monster currently still shaped more or less like Glenn casually leaning against the wall. “If Ron thinks his father is truly unbeatable, by the rules of Daddy Magic he may actually become so.”

            “Oh shit, seriously?” Glenn perked up from the ground. He had jerked slightly when Ron started to panic but had relaxed back against the wall when both Henry and Darryl rushed to the man’s aide. “Yo, Ron! Your dad sucks and we’re gonna wipe the floor with him, easy!”

            Ron shuddered. “Heh heh… yeah… sure…” He didn’t believe that for a second, and by the concerned looks being shot his way it seemed like no one else really did either. “Guys I’m scared.”

            Henry hissed between his teeth and held Ron’s hand tighter. That felt kind of nice. “We know Ron. That’s perfectly understandable, and you know, we’re all pretty scared too! But we’re going to be okay, because Willy’s all on his own, and we all have each other, right?”

            “Th-that’s true…” Ron agreed dubiously as Darryl rubbed his shoulder.

            “Yeah, and we’ve got Daddy Magic! Willy doesn’t have Daddy Magic, does he?”

            “Well, you guys have Daddy Magic…” Ron muttered, “I d-don’t even know if I can use Daddy Magic.”

            “Of course you can!” Henry said quickly. “If Willy thought he could get Daddy Magic from Terry Junior, then there’s no reason why you can’t! Actually, oh!” Henry let go of Ron and ran to lift the book he had been carrying before into his arms. Ron hadn’t taken much note of it beyond its bold yellow colour. He opened it and flipped open to the introduction. “Right here! It says that despite many misconceptions, you do not need to be biologically related to a child in order to use Daddy Magic, you only need a child to view you as a father figure. Man, I really wish we had this book sooner.”

            The Library shrugged when everyone’s eyes turned on him. “You never asked.”

            Darryl rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Anyway Ron, see? I’m sure you’ll be able to use it too once you get Terry Junior back! You just need to find your uh, what did you say Henry? The uh, the core of your dad-hood? Something like that. Like mine and Grant’s is mutual trust!” Darryl grinned at his own son and they did a quick high five, even though Grant’s end was a little delayed.

            “And mine’s unconditional love! I love you boys so much!” Henry called to Lark and Sparrow who had suck to the floor and were snoring slightly. “Oh, that reminds me! Glenn, what do you think your core was? Darryl and I couldn’t figure it out.”

            Glenn and Nick exchanged a look and then both shrugged in tandem. “I dunno. Being cool? Whatever.”

            “Vibes, maybe?” Nick suggested. “Or uh, chillin?”

            “Yeah, sure,” Glenn shrugged, giving Nick a light fist bump. “I’ll accept whatever you throw down, little dude.”

            “Thanks, dad.”

            “Huh,” Henry didn’t seem satisfied, but turned back to Ron regardless. “Anyway, see Ron? You just need to figure out what part of your relationship with Terry Junior is the most important thing everything else is built around and you’ll unlock Daddy Magic no problem!”

            “Oh, right,” Ron nodded, because that did sound very sensible when Henry put it like that. “So what’s the most important thing about mine and Terry Junior’s relationship?”

            Henry smiled. “Exactly! That’s what you need to-” He paused and the smile dropped. “Oh, you’re asking me? Uh…” His brow furrowed and he looked over Ron’s head at Darryl and seemed to be trying to communicate something with facial expressions alone.

            “I uh, I think that’s something you need to figure out for yourself, buddy,” Darryl chipped in, and Ron scowled.

            “Well how am I supposed to do that? You guys have been doing this fathering thing for years and you’re only just figuring out your Daddy Magic now! I-I barely know Terry. I want to know him better, but he never wants to talk to me, and then I cut off his dad’s head, and I spied on him for a month in the walls of a castle and that helped a little, but that’s not… I mean, we haven’t gone fishing or… or whatever else fathers do with their kids! We don’t have a relationship! So how am I supposed to use Daddy Magic if I don’t even have a relationship with my son, huh?”

            Finally Glenn climbed to his feet and approached the huddle, putting is hand on Ron’s other shoulder. “Man, you’re over thinking it, alright? You love your son, right?”

            “Y-yeah, of course!”

            “And you’re trying to be there for him, right?” Darryl chimed in.

            “Uh huh.”

            “And if it came down to it, you’d face down Willy to get Terry back, right?” said Henry, smile back and encouraging.

            “Right!” Ron said firmly, and then paled. “R-right, I would… oh man, do I have to fight my dad to get Terry back? I-I’ll do it but… but uh… uh oh.”

            Ron tried to tear himself away from the other dads in time, but some vomit still ended up on Henry’s Birkenstocks.

*

            “Uh oh,” said the Library from his place on the floor about ten minutes later, immediately catching everyone’s attention.

            “Uh oh?” Darryl asked, concern flashing over his face as he grabbed Grant and pulled him flush into his side.

            “We need to get out of here.” The Library said swiftly as he got to his feet and then glared at Scam. “My dear cousin, did you happen to abuse our young Mark during his developmental years again?”

            “Abuse?” Scam sputtered. “How could I have abused him? I barely spent any time with him at all! He was changing his own diapers within a couple days anyway, he had a handle on it. I was busy doing things!”

            “And I’m things!” Glenn added as if on reflex and the two high fived.

            “That’s child neglect and that’s abuse!” Henry snapped. “What the heck Glenn, don’t encourage that!”

            “I can’t just not finish a line like that!”

            “God, whatever! What’s Mark done to act out this time, then?”

            The Library groaned and rubbed his eyes. “He joined Willy Stampler. And yes, I know that was the plan, but he dropped the disguise. He’s gone rogue, and he told Willy that Terry’s planning to escape, too.”

            “Oh. Fuck.” Scam glanced over his shoulder as the group fell silent. There was moaning coming down the corridor, louder than there should have been for only one or two stray corpses. Not to mention the sound of rushing wind, and the air suddenly brimmed with electricity, making everyone’s hair stand on end.

            “Alright, uh, this would be a good time to activate your Daddy Magic, right Darryl?” The Library asked hopefully. Darryl nodded and held Grant tighter.

            “You trust me son?”

            “Yeah, dad.”

            “And I trust you! Okay, Daddy Magic power-up… go!” Darryl raised a hand above his head. Nothing happened. “Henry it’s not working, you try!”

            “Um, I-I love you boys!” Henry said as he pulled a blinking and sleepy Lark and Sparrow to their feet. Then he closed his eyes and looked like he was trying to poop for a moment. “It’s not working for me either! Glenn?”

            “Man, I don’t know! Nick, you still got that knife on you?”

            “Yeah dad!” Nick pulled out his switchblade.

            “Awesome, proud of you,” Glenn nodded as he pulled out his nun-chucks. “Ready to be cool with your old man?”

            There was a brief silence. Then: “Well uh, dad no offense, but you don’t really know how to use those right? You don’t really make them look that cool.”

            Glenn sputtered for a moment, before he covered his mouth and took a deep breath. “If… if that’s your opinion, I think you’re dead wrong obviously but, I accept it.”

            “Heh, thanks dad- WOAH.”

            And just like that, a flash of blue light enveloped Glenn and he was back to his long flowing mane of watery locks and blue light pouring from his eyes and skin. He held his guitar and stared down the hall as a tide of zombies rounded the corner, slobbering and lurching steadily toward them.

            Luckily, Glenn knew how to play this one out. “I’ll hold’em off, you guys run!” Glenn called behind him. Then he addressed the zombie hoard. “Any of you assholes know Wonderwall?”

            On the opening notes, a wave of water flowed from Glenn and threw itself up and over the zombies, trapping them in the current and pushing back against them. The other dads and the Library had already started running, but Scam and Nick hung back.

            “Nick, you gotta go too, man. I uh, I hate to say it but I don’t think my Magic is as strong as Darryl and Henry’s.

            “Yeah, I definitely see some holes there,” Scam said conversationally as a zombie slipped around the side and the monster quickly blew it up with a burst of red light. “You do look good like this, though.”

            “Your magic isn’t as strong?” Nick blinked, shivering as he watched Scam take out another escaping corpse. “I-is it my fault? I should’ve… I shouldn’t have got mad at you before, right? This is my fault, I didn’t work hard enough to be a good son, and now you can’t hold the zombies back, and I-”

            “Hey, no, Nick!” Glenn shouted, still frantically playing his guitar as he spoke. “No, this is on me, okay? It’s called Daddy Magic, right? If our relationship isn’t good enough to beat these ugly bitches, that’s on me, got that? I’m the one who wasn’t trying hard enough. I-I really want us to get out of this and try to fix that, but for now… you gotta get out of here and follow the other dads, okay?”

            “B-but what if you lose your power if I leave? Dad, we don’t know how this works at all!”

            “Nah, it’ll be fine!” Glenn winced slightly as he accidentally fingered a sour note. Three zombies slipped through that time, though Scam was on top of it. “Besides, I got Scam with me! He’ll get us out! Get going!”

            “Dad, I’m not leaving you! I can’t lose you too, dad!”

            “You won’t Nick, just go. I’ll… heh, I’ll follow you, this time. Okay?”

            “But-”

            Scam groaned. “Either you run, or I’ll pick you up and run with you, but if I leave Glenn if almost definitely going to be overcome by the hoard within moments if they keep slipping through like this. If you want either of you to survive, go!”

            Nick made a face at Scam, but finally heaved a sigh. “I love you, dad,” he whispered, and then he ran with all the agility of a street mutt escaping a dog catcher. Glenn was so proud.

            “LOVE YOU TOO, SON!” Glenn shouted, going into a riff and the wall of water swelled for a moment, pushing back the hoard a little more.

            This worked for another two minutes before Glenn felt something snap inside him like a tether cord, the water flow stopped, and he swayed where he stood. He felt two arms catch him before his nose hit the stone floor, the rising noise of loud grisly moans in him ears, and he passed out.

*

            “Where are we going, Darryl?” The Library’s voice lilted from the rear of the group. Nick had swiftly caught up to the group and was in the middle of the pack now, though seemed a little annoyed at being forced to slow his pace.

            “B-back to the labyrinth, unless you think you can get the drawbridge down?” Darryl panted.

            “I have no idea! It’s possible but Willy may have locked it too, who knows?”

            “That’s not helpful!”

            “Well sorry, I didn’t expect my castle to be invaded by a necromancer strong enough to get control of the keep’s natural defense system!” They rounded a corner and found another hoard of zombies coming up from the hallway with the living quarters, and the kitchen where Darryl had opened a hole into the labyrinth. “Crap, okay, let’s try to go through the courtyard!” The group made a hard turn back into the Great Hall, only to find more zombies coming through from the other side, this time interspersed with skeletons as though for variety.

            “Shit, uh, kids run ahead into the courtyard!” Darryl called and immediately the kids outpaced the adults to the giant doors. Damn they were fast. Also Ron was still with them. The rest of them made it out the doors several seconds behind and pushed them closed, but Darryl, Henry and the Library weren’t going to be able to hold them for long if the pounding was anything to go by.

            “Library, can you get the gate open?” Darryl asked and the Library’s face screwed up in concentration for a moment before falling slack.

            “N-no, I’m sorry, Darryl.”

            “Fuck, well, EVERYONE IN THE VAN, ITS UNLOCKED!” Darryl yelled and the kids made a turn from the gate and ran for the van, piling inside. “The zombies couldn’t get in it before?” Darryl offered as explanation before the doors shunted open and a zombie slipped through. One good punch sent it tumbling, but with Darryl off his and Henry’s door the thing burst open and the Library let go of his to scoop up both dads and leg it across the courtyard to the van as well, Grant holding the sliding door open for them to jump into, closing and locking it just in time for the tide of zombies to begin running into it, rocking the car with a purpose.

            “Are they trying to flip it over?!” Henry asked loudly as the van rocked again.

            “What are we going to do? How did Willy even get this many corpses in here?!” Darryl groaned as the van rocked up again, definitely on two wheels for a second there.

            “I don’t know, but unless someone other than the bard can unlock their Daddy Magic again, we’re in a fair bit of trouble,” the Library said quickly, eyes drifting to Nick who had his eyes shut and clutching his knife as he whispered to himself. “Why would Glenn have been able to access his magic when the other two of you couldn’t? What was different?”

            Henry frowned, stroking his chin even as the van tilted worryingly again. “Not sure, but Glenn’s the only one of us who had been able to use the Magic before without Paeden around, right? Maybe it’s just something about Glenn specifically?”

            Grant leaned in toward the huddle of adults. “That doesn’t make sense. No offense meant to Glenn but, he’s not the most complex guy around. I don’t think he’s got a secret well of Daddy Magic you guys don’t have. The Daddy Magic power up seems to work a bit like a spell. It’s got components, right? A father, a child, a-a value to exemplify, and Paeden. But Paeden wasn’t with Glenn and Nick, so there’s got to be something substituting for Paeden. Like, a bit of Paeden, maybe?”

            “That’s very clever, Grant! It’s always good to hear the youth putting their studies to practical use!” The Library praised warmly and looked into the back of the van where the other kids were huddled. “Nick, does your father keep any bits of Paeden on his person, perchance?”

            “What? No!” Nick looked up, suddenly quite annoyed and gesturing with his switchblade. “Why the hell would he?”

            Darryl scowled and reached into the back, plucking the knife out of Nick’s hand. “You need to watch what you’re doing with this!”

            “Give it back, it’s mine!” Nick snapped.

            “Where’d you even get this from?”

            “I found it in the walls back in Ravenloft!” Nick made another grab for the knife. “After Ron found me!”

            “Hm, interesting!” The Library said, plucking the knife from Darryl’s hand and ignoring his protest as he examined it. “Now this does look familiar…” He sniffed the blade and then, tentatively, touched it to the tip of his tongue and winced. “Ew, yep. Pee.”

            “Ew, what?” Nick asked as Darryl’s eyes widened.

            “Wait, you mean that knife’s…?”

            “A Paeden knife! Spawned from Paeden!” The Library grinned and then gasped as the van rocked again, this time finally succeeding on rolling onto its side, sending its occupants falling on top of each other.

            “Ow, Grant! Are you okay?” Darryl asked, though muffled a bit under the weight of Henry, Ron and the Library.

            “I’m good, dad.”

            “Great! Library?”

            “Ooh, well I think I stabbed myself in the chest?”

            “Shit! Uh, is that bad?”

            “It stings, but I’ll live, Darryl.”

            “Great. So Grant, you think a knife made out of Paeden’s pee could be the substitute?”

            Grant blinked from where he lay against the van window. “I mean, I guess?”

            Darryl took the knife from the Library and passed it to Grant. “I trust you, son.”

            Grant snorted. “I trust you too, dad.”

            There was a burst of light.

*

            Darryl mowed down the zombies around the van, Henry quickly joining him in his work once the twins had been granted (temporary) knife privileges. While the kids cheered them on, the Library stood in front of the gate and started doing something that looked very much like magic.

            Ron hugged himself and looked up at the tower he was pretty sure Terry might be in.

            Willy still hadn’t made an appearance yet, but if the army was anything to go by he was pretty mad. Glenn and Scam were missing and Ron didn’t really want to think about what had possibly happened to them. Henry and Darryl seemed to have the zombies under control at the moment, but who knew how long that would last? Ron wanted to be able to help, but his questionable roguish skills were pretty useless here, and without Terry there wasn’t even a chance he could unlock his Daddy Magic.

            He wished he could think of even one trait that described his and Terry’s relationship other than ‘distant’. Maybe trying? Ron thought he was trying very hard, lately, but he wasn’t sure if that was enough to count for something as powerful as the flames and bursts of earth that erupted around Darryl and Henry. Or even the water that had flowed from Glenn. Ron wasn’t sure he could even imagine himself with those kind of powers. He wasn’t even sure he would want that sort of power, really. It looked pretty hard to control, and Ron could barely control himself, most of the time.

            The zombie hoard was already thinning out, coming in smaller waves even as the Library returned with a concerned look on his face.

            “Darryl, I can’t get the gate open at all, do you think you can fight through the crowd back into the castle? Maybe we can put another hole in the floor?”

            “Yeah, no problem!” Darryl laughed jovially as he grabbed a zombie by the arm and it immediately caught fire as he swung it in a wide circle to take out a couple of its fellows before sending it flying toward the blacksmith outbuilding.

            The labyrinth didn’t seem to exist under the courtyard, or if it did then Henry’s pockmarks of exploded earth did nothing to uncover them. As another opened beneath a group of four zombies, dropping them in only to be covered by another pile of earth. (Reburying the dead seemed like a good idea to Henry, even if he was using quite a bit more pressure than a gravedigger might.) However, as Henry looked up to target another group he noticed an odd thing.

            “Uh, Darryl? Look, the zombies are lining up. Do you think they’re going to try to swarm us as a big mass again like they tried with Glenn?”

            “I’m not sure,” Darryl frowned. “I hope Glenn’s okay.”

            “He’s with Scam, so he’s probably fine. I’d worry about us for the moment,” the Library reassured and cautioned with equal measure, joining in to grab a zombie and shove it down his throat without fanfare. He licked a bit of viscera off a finger and Darryl might have watched that action a bit too closely.

            “Uh, right. So Henry, should we try to break through them now or wait till they come at us?”

            “Well, my magic works best from a defensible place? It’s hard to aim and run at the same time.”

            “So we wait,” Darryl nodded as the last few zombies near them petered off and were picked off until they were left facing a thick semi-circle of the things blocking the entrance to the castle from them, effectively containing them in the courtyard as Henry and Darryl had been earlier.

            And again, much like earlier, this was when Willy Stampler appeared again on the roof above the Great Hall. He wasn’t wearing his hood this time, and the figures at his side were pretty clearly Terry Junior and Paeden. This time, however, they did not look like they were there of their own free will. Instead, chains of purple light encircled both boys, holding them upright. Paeden was shouting and struggling against his own while Terry Junior stood stoically but even at a distance the worry on his face was still evident.

            After a brief moment, the short figure of Mark Likely appeared as well. He was notably not in chains and looked incredibly smug.

            “HEY! Give back Terry and Paeden, asshole! It’s over!” Darryl yelled and clapped his hands together. A lick of flame shot out between them, though obviously stopped far short of the roof.

            “Yeah! We’ve got Daddy Magic and you don’t, you don’t stand a chance!” Henry said fiercely as two more geysers of earth erupted nearby, though this too fell far short of any sort of mark.

            Willy snorted, and his voice echoed across the yard. “Yeah, I’m really fucking scared. Not only are you two stuck on the ground, but I’ve got a disposable, worthless little hostage now.” Willy jabbed Terry Junior in the side and the boy groaned. “Since this kid over here showed up and said he was in the market for a dad anyway and since Terry’s a little brat who doesn’t know what’s good for him, I have no problem using the brat as a meat shield.”

            Ron’s heart was beating very fast in his chest. He wanted very much to shrink away into the background. Certainly his dad was very angry and Ron didn’t want to get involved with that at all. But Terry Junior was stuck up there, and Ron did not want Terry anywhere near his dad. He didn’t want to be seen, but now Willy was grabbing Terry, dragging him in front of him, nearer the edge… he had to distract him. Willy could do what he wanted to Ron if Terry could be ignored instead.

            “Dad!” Ron yelled, running forward, out of the throng of children and even in front of Darryl and Henry, dodging their hands as they tried to grab him back. “Dad, it’s me, Ron!”

            Willy’s head tilted backward and he let out a long, irritated groan. “Yes, Ron, I know.”

            Ron swallowed hard, hands shaking even as he balled them into fists. “I-I just thought, um, i-if you don’t need Terry Junior, you should let him go! And also, d-don’t hurt him! I-if you have to hurt someone, t-take me instead! I-I won’t run away, even if you hit me in the face and b-break one of my teeth again!”

            “It was a fucking baby tooth, Ron. It barely counted,” Willy snorted. “Don’t be such a weak little baby about shit like that. I thought I raised you better, but I guess you’ll always be useless to me. You couldn’t even deliver me an actual grandson to train. Why don’t you do something smart for once in your life? Sit down and shut up.”

            “No!” Ron said loudly and ignored the gasp from Henry behind him. He couldn’t give up, not for this. “I want Terry back!”

            “I said, SHUT UP!” Willy shouted and a blast of black lightning flew from the man’s fingers. Before Ron could even understand what had happened, he was already on his back on the ground, groaning as his limbs twitched in the aftermath of the blow. The pain took a moment to set in, but once it did Ron rolled onto his side and curled in on himself.

            “HEY! THAT’S OUT OF LINE!” Darryl yelled, sending more blasts of flame that didn’t make it up to the roof. Henry ran to Ron’s side and laid a hand across his forehead. Within seconds the twitching and flashes of pain died down to something manageable and Ron uncurled himself.

            “Thanks Henry.” Ron sucked in his breath and looked back up at Willy. “I-I don’t agree with your parenting style, d-dad!”

            Willy rolled his eyes. “Fuck this, I’m done trying with you. You never did anything but disappoint me.”

            Something twisted in Ron’s gut and he bit his lip, his hand twisting into his shirt. “B-but you still loved me, r-right?”

            “Oh, Ron,” Henry mumbled, putting a glowing hand on Ron’s shoulder as he looked up at Willy with wide eyes.

            Willy’s eyes were blank and grey. He didn’t answer. He raised his hand again.

            “NO!” Terry Junior shrieked and for a moment the purple chains around him flickered and he managed to fling his body into Willy’s side. This through him off balance and the lightning shot over Ron’s head, smashing into one of the outbuildings and blowing it to smithereens. Nick even screamed when a piece of burning wood hit him in the side of the face, though Grant was quick to heal him, murmuring quiet words as he did so.

            Terry Junior wasn’t doing as well. Willy had grabbed him by the neck of his robe and was holding him close to his face as he screamed at him. “YOU STUPID LITTLE ASSHOLE! YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME ON? I’LL SHOW YOU YOUR PLACE!”

            Then he struck Terry Junior across the face, pushed him to the ground, and kicked him in the side. Terry screamed in pain.

            Ron didn’t even think. He jumped to his feet, pushing Henry aside as he ran toward the tower, not even noticing the zombies in his path. All he knew was he had to get up there. Somehow, some way, he was going to do it. “TERRY! I’M COMING, TERRY! I’LL SAVE YOU, SON!”

            Willy’s head snapped around to stare down at Ron with eyes that he knew well, lifeless and cold and disappointed. “Give it up, he’s not even your real son. You’re not even a real dad, you couldn’t even do that right! You’re just his step dad. He won’t ever respect you like he should!”

            “I’M NOT JUST A STEP DAD!” Ron roared over the sound of the wind whipping around him, seeing the zombies in front of him and preparing to plough through if he had to. “I’M THE DAD WHO STEPPED UP!”

            Paeden, who had been rag dolling all of a second ago, now overflowed with white energy and his eyes snapped open. “STEPPING UP!” He shouted, and fell limp again.

It was instinct. It was in him all along. He took a breath and stepped up, and suddenly there was wind rushing in his ears and he was getting closer, closer. He only had eyes for Terry as he flew nearer, Terry hurt, Terry who needed him now more than ever.

            Then he was in front of them. Willy was looking at him with his jaw slack and something odd and angry in his eyes. His hands were curled into fists and shaking and he kept shooting looks at Paeden, seeming to be weighing his options.

            Terry Junior’s nose was bleeding, but he was staring slack jawed as well, mouth moving but no sound coming out.

            Then he finally got out the words, “Holy shit Ron, you can fucking fly?!”

            Ron paused and looked down. He was not on the ground, or on the tower. He was in mid-air. And his legs were glowing a bright white, more pasty than usual. His hands too, actually. He blinked slowly and looked at Terry Junior with wide eyes and his signature awkward smile. “Only for you, kiddo, heheh.”

            Terry Junior nodded dumbly as Willy made an irritated noise at the back of his throat.

            “That’s all you can do, huh? Fly? What a stupid power. Even your dumbass friend Glenn can do something with his shitty water magic. All you’ve done is made yourself an easier target.” Willy held up his hand. “I’d say it was nice knowing you, but you know what? It wasn’t.”

            He shot a blast of energy at Ron, but without a thought Ron dodged out of its path. Willy growled and shot again, and again, but Ron dodged each blast, twisting and turning in the air like a kite. It was easy, instinctive. He even giggled.

            “Stop that! God, MARK!” Willy snapped, and Mark Likely nodded sharply, stepping forward. “You said you’d acknowledge me as a father and make this fucking Daddy Magic bullshit work for me! Now even my idiot son’s got it, so fucking start acknowledging.”

            Mark hummed and looked down at Terry Junior with more than a little disdain. “I don’t like siblings, father. Siblings hurt and betray you, ruin your life and leave you to fend for yourself. They never understand you and don’t try.”

Far down below, the Library swore. “For FUCK’s sake Scam I’m going throttle you.”

            “Get to the point, brat!” Willy snarled and Mark smirked.

            “Simple. Get rid of Terry Junior and I will happily join your family. I believe that shared desire to harm others is as good a core for a father-son bond as any, wouldn’t you agree?”

            Willy paused for a moment, eyebrow quirked as he looked down at Terry Junior who as still lying on his side and frightfully close to the edge of the wall. “Huh. Maybe I should’ve thought about adopting a son from Faerun before this. You weirdos do seem to breed ‘em tougher out here. Sounds good to me!” And with that, Willy held his hand over Terry Junior, clearly ready to strike.

            “NO! NOT TERRY JUNIOR!” Ron yelled, throwing out a hand of his own. But no power emerged. Willy was right, the only think Ron could do was fly, there was no gust of wind or anything to save Terry Junior. Ron didn’t have air-bending powers.

            But Ron did have a rat.

            Terry the Rat jumped out of Ron’s pocket, ran down his arm and jumped off his hand like a spring board. He landed on Willy’s hand and bit it in time to throw off the man’s aim as he swore and shrieked. Instead of hitting Terry directly, he hit the wall near him, leaving it to crumble under the kid and sending him hurtling toward the ground and zombies below with an ear-piercing scream.

            Of course, with Ron still floating nearby and more than a little vague on what was happening, he did notice his plummeting step son and wasted no time flying down to catch him under the armpits, sailing them both back to the gang and dropping Terry as gently as possible into the Library’s arms (him being the tallest and Ron not entirely sure how to land just yet).

            Ron had lost sight of Terry the Rat. He hoped he had survived his rescue, but probably not. Ron took a moment to shut his eyes and mourn the loss of a hero.

            The Library set a shaking Terry on the ground and he immediately looked up at Ron with absolute wonder on his face. “I- wow, thanks dad.”

            “Anytime, son!” Ron grinned.

            Then the earth shook, and the rays of dawn that had broken over the courtyard fell back into darkness.

            Far above them, Willy had placed a firm hand on Mark’s shoulder, the boy leaning into his embrace. Beside them, Paeden was glowing again, purple and black lights engulfing his body as a sickly energy poured through the air, making Ron sink lower to the ground. Whatever he had said upon Mark and Willy’s dark father-son union, it had left Willy thrumming with power beyond anything that a momentary bond with an ally should have produced.

            Darryl looked at Henry with fear in his fiery eyes. “What’s going on? That shouldn’t be possible, right? I thought you had to have a strong bond to access this much Daddy Magic! Why is Willy getting so much from joining up with Mark?!”

            “I-I don’t know!” Henry said, looking helplessly at the Library. “What did it say in the book?”

            The Library shrugged. “How should I know? You’re the one who read it.”

            “I skimmed it! Where is it now? Shoot, I think it’s in the van?”

            “I’ll get it!” Grant said fast as he sprinted for it. The twins followed, helping heave him over the side into the door of the flipped van.

            The sky was blackening further, the ground wouldn’t stop shaking. Suddenly Darryl’s flames went out. Henry’s eyes stopped glowing green. Ron fell from the air and landed on top of Henry, crashing them both to the ground.

            “We should probably still look in the book,” the Library said slowly, “But if I were to hazard a guess, I think Willy might be combining his own necromancy and Mark’s eldritch abilities to suck more Daddy Magic out of Paeden than would usually be possible now that he’s established a link.”

            Terry Junior helped Ron to his feet and the small group on the ground stared up at Willy in horror as the man began to laugh, levitating into the air as Mark looked up at him with something disgustingly bordering on pride.

            “YOU DUMB IDIOTS REALLY THOUGHT YOU COULD BEAT ME? I’M THE OMEGA-DADDY NOW, AND THIS WHOLE FUCKING WORLD IS GOING TO LEARN A LITTLE DISCIPLINE FOR ONCE, STARTING WITH YOU!”

            Ron had been feeling brave before, for a moment, when he had been saving Terry Junior. But now Terry was beside him again, and Ron really hoped he wouldn’t notice the pee running down his leg.

Chapter 29: Dungeons

Summary:

The final battle is upon us. Finally.

Notes:

*ahem* Hello. So like. It's been almost two months. But as you can see, this chapter is ABSURDLY LONG?! Like, uh, this definitely should've been two chapters. But I was determined to finish at thirty chapters so like. We here, gang.

God this took so long to write. Also I had to finish another chapter of my novel before I wrote this so, I think it's actually quite impressive I only took 2 months with this.

No idea when the last chapter will go up but since it's the wind down and close off bit, I imagine probably in less than two months this time? We'll have to see.

Also PS to Jackson... thanks for all the comments throughout this fic and I want to let you know that uuuuh that novel I'm writing? I actually named the protagonist Jackson. After you. I just thought you should know. Now. Idk why. I just thought it fit him and... yeah. Just wanted you to know.

ANYWAY, enjoy this penultimate chapter! Warnings for gore, sex, eating chunks of a person, and uh, other nasty things! Also a poorly built dungeon cause oh my god I took two months to write this and I rewrote so much of this over that time and it still feels like soup but FUCK IT here it is.

29 Dungeons

            “This doesn’t look good!” Darryl yelled to the rest of the party over the blasts of lighting and roar of wind rising around them, just barely held at bay by the meagre shelter they had run to. Really, the only good thing about the situation was that the three dads had lost their Daddy Magic without losing their consciousness as well this time. They’d surely be dead by now otherwise.

            “Hm, I have to agree Darryl!” The Library said with a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. After Willy Stampler’s threatening speech, the group had run behind the overturned van and huddled together while Willy sent a few wild bolts of black lightning into the courtyard, each leaving deep gouges and scorch marks along the ground in their wake. “You wouldn’t have a suggestion on what we should do about that, do you?”

            “Um, Henry?” Darryl looked at Henry hopefully. Henry had both his boys curled into his chest as he took deep breaths with his back pressed to the roof of the car.

            “Huh? Oh!” Henry’s eyes widened when he realised he was being addressed. “So uh, w-what do we have to use? The Daddy Magic is gone, right? And G-Glenn and Scam are m-missing…” He side-eyed Nick, whose eyes were squeezed shut as he crouched with his arms wrapped around his knees. “S-so we’ve got me with… no spell slots. We’ve got Ron’s… Ron-ness, and Darryl’s muscles, and the Library’s monster powers and… maybe magic?”

            “I can do some spells! But I definitely do not have the power to take on an overpowered lich king single handed!” The Library laughed with a touch of hysteria as Henry bit his lip and nodded.

            “Right, and we have the boys, but Lark and Sparrow are still tired. Grant might have some spells left. Terry Junior, can you still control the zombies?”

            Terry Junior, who was sitting on the ground with Ron laying his head across his thigh, eyes wide with fear, grimaced. “I mean, I could probably direct them in a general sense but if Willy tries to grab control of them from me I doubt I can beat him out for it.”

            “Okay, we can work with that!” Darryl said with a sharp nod. “If the rest of us distract Willy, Terry Junior can take the zombies back!”

            “And do what with them, Darryl?” The Library asked, sounding almost lazy as he gave him a withering look. “Frankly, the zombies individually are not that powerful. It’s not as though even a small army of them would be a significant threat to a lich king.”

            “Well I’m open to other ideas! I’m just saying it’s a thing we could do, it’s not like we’ve got a ton to work with!” Darryl snapped and banged on the roof of his car. “Hey, Grant! Find anything useful in that book, buddy?”

            “Still reading, Dad!” Grant called back as another bolt of lightning hit the side of the van facing Willy and sent it skidding backward, scraping the group along the ground a short way before the Library threw out several limbs to brace against it and stop it from scraping the humans along the ground. “Uh, maybe I should get out of the van, though?”

“Uh, I-I don’t know, do you guys think it’s safer inside or outside the van?”

            “Well normally I’d say safer outside because if that lightning ignited the gas tank it could explode, but the van hasn’t had gas in it for months and I’m not sure that lightning is made out of electricity, so maybe that’s not an actual problem?” Henry glanced behind him. “Maybe we should all get back in the van?”

            As he said this, another bolt grazed the side of the van facing the sky, the energy radiating from it strong enough to warm the skin of its intended victims.

            “Father, Lark and I have a suggestion!”

            “Oh, that’s great boys! You know I always support your inclusion in decisions that affect us as a family!”

            “Yes Father, we are well aware! May we suggest that we, the Oak-Garcias, actively try to reawaken the Doodler in our blood?”

            Henry make a choked noise. “I- uh, no? No, um, I don’t think that’s the best idea, boys. We don’t really have a way to control that, so that could be very dangerous.”

            The Library hummed. “Perhaps, but that isn’t a bad idea either. I think it’s a strong plan B! With how powerful Willy is, having the power of an actual Eldritch God might be the only way to compete with him directly.”

            “What about you? Aren’t you an Eldritch thing? You go fight him!” Nick snapped from his place huddled by himself.

            “I’m an Eldritch monster, not god! There’s a rather significant difference! I’m powerful but not that powerful.”

            “Hey dad! I think I found something!”

            “Yeah, Grant? What’d you find?”

            Grant’s voice rose as he presumably summarized a bit from the Daddy Magic for Dummies book. “Apparently there’s a few ways that someone can lose access to Daddy Magic!”

            “Great! Let’s hear them, son!”

            “Right uh, so basically if you renounce your own fatherhood and disown all your children, you lose it for sure. Um, or if all your children renounce you as a father and ‘truly lose all ability to view you as a father’.”

            “Um, I don’t think we’re going to get that in this case. Anything else?”

            “You can also lessen magic if your child loses faith in you? So like, it kind of sounds like your power level is directly correlated with how powerful your kid thinks you can be?”

             “Also not that helpful, I don’t think we’re going to convince Mark to not believe Willy is powerful when he’s warped reality and made a giant dungeon skyscraper.”

            “Daddy Magic also loses potency if your kid becomes an adult and independent, but it doesn’t exactly go away? I don’t know, that one’s a bit vague.”

            “Ooh, that one could work! I imagine that Mark will be grown up within another week or so!” The Library chirped happily. “I’m sure if that lowers Willy’s power level, a suitably motivated group of adventurers will probably be able to take him out!”

            “Yeah, but that isn’t going to stop this group of dads from not getting killed by him before that!” Darryl snapped. “Is there anything else, Grant?”

            “Uh, it doesn’t look like- oh it continues on the next page. Okay, there’s a long complex spell involving a bunch of components we don’t have… oh! Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

            “What makes sense?”

            “If the kid dies, you lose the magic too. That might be our best bet.”

            “Er, that’s a bit drastic, Mark’s just a kid! I don’t feel great about killing a kid,” Darryl looked at Henry who nodded along frantically.

            “Yeah, we can’t kill a kid!”

            The Library hummed. “Mark is pretty hard to kill anyway, but there might be a workaround. Does it say if he has to be entirely deceased, or would simply resetting them back to an infant work?”

            “Uh, the book doesn’t really go that much into depth so I don’t know.”

            “Hm, shame. Worth a try, though! Besides, Mark’s more of a young teenager now anyway, and in his ‘murderous’ phase, so I imagine once you face him killing him won’t seem like as harsh an option.”

            “Hey uh, guys? Is it just me or has it gotten quiet out there?” Henry asked suddenly. Everyone paused to listen. As it turned out, it was not just Henry. It had in fact gotten oddly quiet, there hadn’t been a blast of lightning in the last few minutes.

            “Should we take a look?” Henry asked in a whisper.

            “I’ll do it.”

            “Oh, hey Ron I thought you were too emotionally compromised to do anything!” Henry said happily as Ron crawled up to the edge of the car on his hands and knees.

            “I was, but I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and now I’m going to check to see if my d-dad’s still trying to kill us.”

            “Alright Ron, be careful!” Darryl warned as Ron slowly raised himself up high enough to peer over the van and up at the castle.

             “Huh,” Ron said, in a most discomforting manner.

            “Ron! What do your businessman eyes see?” Henry asked as Ron’s mustache curved down into a frown.

            “Well, good news is the zombies are gone?”

            “That is good news!”

            “Yeah but uh, the castle is also gone?”

            “I’m sorry, what?” Darryl gasped and the rest of the group behind the van, as well as Grant inside it, scrambled to their feet follow Ron’s gaze up and up and up again with varying levels of disbelief.

            It would not exactly be correct to say the castle was gone, but Ron was close enough in that the castle that had been there had been altered drastically to the point where there appeared to be an entirely different sort of structure.

            Towering above them now was what appeared to be an exceptionally tall, rectangular office building (a skyscraper really) covered in mirrored windows and steely grey metal as it stretched into the clouds. Around it the sky remained overcast and dark, with occasional bolts of lightning lancing through it.

            “Huh, you’d think we would’ve noticed that happening,” Henry said unhelpfully. As the group followed the walls of the former castle courtyard, they found them changed as well, into a large, fortified electric fence. The former drawbridge did not appear to exist anymore either, leaving no visible means of egress.

            “Too bad you can’t still fly, dad,” Terry Junior sighed as he leaned against the van and squinted at the building. “I thought he was going to kill us, did he change his mind?”

            Grant bit his lip as he clutched the book to his chest. “I think I read something about magic overload and uh, I think something about dungeons but I’m not sure what it meant?”

            The Library hummed and tapped some fingers on his chin. “Ah yes, that would make sense. On occasion, when a being goes from a low power level to a high one very quickly, they instinctively build a dungeon around themselves much like a protective cocoon while they adjust to the change!”

            “So what does that mean for us? Is he vulnerable in there?” Darryl asked as he craned his neck to squint at the top of the building in the sky.

             “Well, yes and no? On the one hand, Willy Stampler was unusually powerful to start with. The fact his power jump spawned this sort of dungeon implies he is now extremely overpowered. But, he likely doesn’t have full control over his power so this would probably be our one chance to kill him by locating weak points on him between his devastating attacks on us. Also there will probably be several smaller enemies to fight on our way up to him, so it’s not like it’ll be easy to get in?” The Library hummed.

            “So should we go in and face him, or stay out here and try to get over the fence?” Grant asked.

            Darryl stiffened. “Hey, we HAVE to fight Willy, he’s still got Paeden! We gotta get Paeden out!”

            Henry nodded frantically, and Nick slammed a hand on the hood of the van. “I’m not going ANYWHERE without my dad! He’s still in there with Scam!”

            The Library nodded. “And Mark and Scam are in there as well, so I would say we’ve got plenty of motivation to go in.”

            “YES! FATHER, WE CANNOT WAIT TO FIGHT ALONGSIDE YOU!”

            “YOU CAN COUNT ON US, FATHER!”

            Terry Junior swallowed but nodded as he flexed his fingers, sparks flying from the tips.

            Grant sighed, looking very tired but grimly determined. “Absolutely. Um, dad can you help me get out of the van?”

            As Darryl reached into the open door to heave his son out of the flipped car, Ron started laughing under his breath. “Uh, you okay there, Ron?” Darryl asked.

            Ron’s laughing rose in volume and on closer inspection, Darryl realized tears were flowing down his cheeks again. Terry Junior also seemed to notice this at the same time and looked rather alarmed.

            “Dad, what’s wrong?”

            “H-he did it!” Ron yelped, voice high and hysterical. “M-my daddy did it, you guys! H-he made it! He’s a success!” His voice dropped from loud exclamation to a whisper. “D-do you think he’s happy now? D-do you think he’s happy now, you guys?”

            Henry and Darryl exchanged a look as Terry awkwardly patted Ron on the back. No one answered him. After several moments of silence, Darryl cleared his throat.

            “Okay I agree we have to go in there, but do we have time for a long rest first so we can recharge spell slots and shit, cause Henry’s basically useless right now.”

“Yeah, I don’t think our odds are going to be good if I don’t have magic.”

            The Library laughed. “Obviously! There’s always time for a long rest before entering a dungeon!”

*

            Not being under fire, it was easy enough for the Library to lift the van back onto its wheels and everyone squeezed inside with the doors shut and locks on to try and get some rest. Several stomachs were growling, but the few stale power bars left in the back weren’t going to solve that problem easily. They would have to live with it for now. At least the Library was still able to conjure water, so no one would be dehydrated for the coming fight.

             Somehow, they managed a few hours’ sleep. While that left most of the party only somewhat re-energized, Henry at least seemed full of vigor and announced all his spell slots were restored. Darryl had to chalk that up to a magic thing, because with as many people trying to sleep as there were he had been ‘forced’ to lay across the Library’s lap and his neck was left at an awkward angle balanced on the monster’s shoulder giving him a hell of a crick.

            The Library was fine, of course. He didn’t need to sleep unless he was grievously injured, and after swallowing as many zombies as he had he was mostly fine.

            When they piled out of the van again, it was hard to judge the time as the sky was still dark and ominous but the Library estimated it couldn’t be later than early afternoon. The revolving door of the office building stood tall and imposing before them, and Ron swallowed audibly.

            “Y-you know, heheh, I’ve uh, never liked revolving doors. A-aren’t there any um, normal fire doors next to it?”

            Henry hummed. “I mean, they are required by US law, but I get the feeling Willy doesn’t care much about that.”

            “It’ll be okay Ron, I’ll go in first with Grant,” Darryl said firmly, only to have the collar of his shirt snagged.

            “Oh no you don’t! You might be super powerful with Daddy Magic on your side, but I’d say you look awfully squishy and mortal right now! Seeing as I have the highest constitution, I think I should go in first in case of traps, hm?”

            There was a number of murmurs of agreement but Darryl baulked. “Hey! I already thought you’d died in the last twenty-four hours! I’m not going to let you just walk in and let you die again, that’s stupid!”

            “Dad, just let him go in! We’ll be right behind him anyway, and Henry’s got his spells back so if he gets hurt we can just heal him, okay?”

            It made sense, and the Library was already heading for the revolving door so it wasn’t like he was giving them a choice. He pushed the door and disappeared behind it as the glass proved to be more like mirrors than windows, blocking all view of whatever lay beyond. The dads and sons exchanged a look after a long minute passed wherein the Library did not return.

            “Well, I guess we’re going in after him,” Darryl said with a sigh. He clasped Grant on the shoulder, determined not to let him out of his sight, and pushed his way into the building.

             The fact that the inside of the first floor of the office building was a lobby was so predictable it was actually a surprise. It was an upscale lobby, the sort of lobby a man like Willy Stampler thought would impress someone. The floor was marble tile, with great pillars springing from it in rows around the edges of the space giving it a look that reminded one of classical roman architecture. In the centre of the room was a towering, elegant fountain surrounded by green foliage. Otherwise the room was large and empty, and the slap of shoes from the party echoed loudly as they piled through the spinning door.

             “Library? Are you in here?” Darryl called immediately when he didn’t spot the monster.

            “I’m over here, Darryl! I think you’ll want to see this!” The Library’s voice called lightly from just out of few, blocked at the fountain and green space. Circling the water feature revealed the monster was standing in front of a long, granite-topped reception desk, behind which sat two identical receptionists with neat, identical haircuts and fitted suits, along with two too-wide grins. Both were easily recognisable as Glenn Close.

            “Glenn?!” Darryl gasped as the party skid to a stop behind him.

            “Dad!” Nick gasped, running toward the desk, only for the Library to grab the back of his shirt to stop him. “Let go! It’s my dad! Dad, why are you dressed like a fucking narc?! And why are there two- I-I guess one of you is Scam but uh…?”

            “Yes, I was trying to figure that out when you arrived!” The Library said with a sharp smile. “But as you can see from the sign, I have run into a bit of a snag!”

            Sure enough, a sign sat between the two men standing motionless behind the counter, placed in a standing picture frame was a piece of paper with blood red ink that read: ONE QUESTION PER PERSON, NO REPEAT QUESTIONS, FORM AN ORDERLY QUEUE.

            “What did you ask them?” Grant asked the Library.

            “I can’t repeat it, unfortunately,” The Library shrugged. “No repeat questions. But suffice to say, it’s left us in a bit of a pickle. If I were to guess, I think we are in a classic ‘one lies and one tells the truth’ situation. Given that behind each of them is a different elevator, I would also presume that one will lead us where we want to go and the other will not. But I’m just guessing, really.”

            “Hm, a classic dungeon puzzle! Well guys, you’re lucky you’re with me! You know, when I make up Oaks and Ogres sessions with Mercedes for the boys, we come up with all kinds of puzzles like this! If I remember how this puzzle works, we have to remember it’s not about finding out which one tells the truth, it’s about finding out which elevator is safe to use!”

            “I don’t care about what elevator is safe to use!” Nick snapped, hands curling into fists. “I want to know which one’s my dad!”

            “Oh right, and we need to find out how to break them out of this whole uh, trance thing too?” Henry frowned at the two Glenns. “Alright so since the Library gave his question and can’t repeat what he said, can you tell us what their answer was?”

            “Nope! Only I get to know the direct answer, apparently.”

            “Not super helpful but, okay! That means we’ve got three dads and five sons, eight questions! That’s plenty to work out all of that! Uh, so I think I know what I need to ask to get the elevator question, so I’ll start us off, and then we can try to figure out which one is Glenn or uh, whatever else we need to figure out! Right? That make sense?”

            “Yes Father! Show us your Love Wolf intelligence!” Sparrow crowed as Henry turned to the ‘receptionists’.

            “Right, okay! So, the trick in this case is to find out which elevator is the safe one. Um, so I gotta ask them which door is safe. Just don’t ask me to explain why it works because I don’t really get the logic, Mercedes tried to explain it once but all I need to do is ask my question and pick the opposite elevator to the one they both answer with so... Here I go!”

            Henry walked in front of the receptionists and his mouth moved, but no sound came out. At least, no sound anyone could hear. Then the receptionists smiled wider. Their mouths moved oddly, but no sound came out of them, either.

            Henry nodded. “Okay guys, we need to take the elevator on the left!”

            “Huh, what did you ask them? Something weird happened and we didn’t hear what you said.”

            “Oh, I just asked-” Henry’s jaw snapped shut and he made a distressed noise.

            “Don’t bother, can’t repeat questions that we’ve asked them, remember?” the Library giggled.

            “What do you mean? Like, ever?” Henry asked in alarm.

            “No idea! Guess we’ll find out when we get out of here.”

            “Okay… well, now we know which elevator to take, but we still need to figure out which is Glenn? Right?” Darryl asked, brow furrowing.”

            “Yeah!” Nick nodded. “Can’t we do the same thing? Like uh, whatever Henry said.”

            “Ah yes, we remember father’s riddle. Give us a moment and we will easily reformat this question!” The twins immediately started whispering frantically into each other’s ears.

            While they were whispering, Terry Junior made a dubious noise. “Does it really matter which is which? Wouldn’t it be more important to figure out how to get them both, you know, fixed?”

            “Yeah, so we should figure out which one is telling the truth and which one is lying, which should be pretty easy.” Grant looked fairly confident in this statement. “From what I can tell, we cannot be given information about what questions have already been asked or the direct answer that is given, but we CAN give each other information that’s inferred from that direct answer. So if Lark or Sparrow ask a question similar to Henry’s where the question and answer themselves aren’ it’ll be easy to tell which one is Glenn. So it’s not really a hard puzzle at all with this many people available to ask questions.”

            Eventually, Lark asked the first question they formulated with their sibling, and determined that Glenn was the man on the right. Then Sparrow asked his own unheard question and told the group that Glenn was the one who was lying and Scam was telling the truth.

            From there it seemed easy enough, even for a man like Darryl. He looked at Scam directly and asked, “How do we get you and Glenn to act normal again?”

            Scam grinned and answered, “You have to ask the right question!”

            “What’s the right question?” Darryl asked quickly. Scam’s grin faded in an instant as both men reached out and tapped the sign over the phrase ONE QUESTION PER PERSON.

            Then Darryl felt like something punched him directly in the stomach. With a heaving cry, he fell to his knees only to immediately be grabbed and pulled over into the lap of the Library, who had seated himself on the floor.

            “Where does it hurt?” The Library asked, running hands all over his body in a way that seemed to have more purpose than simply to find the source of pain. Darryl felt too sick to bat them off, though.

            “S-stomach…” Darryl gasped and the Library immediately placed a hand there, a warm light bleeding into him and soothing the pain. “Oh, that’s nice. Um, guys, don’t ask more than one question. They uh, don’t like it?”

            “Yeah, geez dad…” Grant muttered. “Did you find out how to break the spell?”

            “Er, sort of? They said-” Then Darryl’s tongue spasmed in his mouth and his jaw snapped shut.

            “Mmhm, that isn’t going to work I’m afraid.”

            Grant frowned. “There IS an answer though, right?” Darryl nodded. He was allowed that much. Grant sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It had gotten so long, now. “Okay. So. We know which elevator to take. We know which one is Scam and that Scam tells the truth. We know there’s a way to break the spell. And we’ve got four questions left to figure this out.”

            “Well Scam TOLD your dad how to break it, didn’t he?” Nick looked at Darryl with frustration bleeding into his tone. “Can you break it?”

            “No, I can’t,” Darryl said carefully. He couldn’t ask another question, or tell them it has to do with asking a question. But… “Oh! And neither can the Library, or any of the Oak-Garcias, but either you, Grant, Terry Junior or Ron can!”

            Grant perked up. “So only someone who hasn’t asked a question yet can break it?”

            Darryl couldn’t nod, but he did manage to smile, and hoped Grant would accept that as an answer. He seemed to as he turned back to the others. Grant was such a natural leader, Darryl was so proud of his boy.

            “Okay, so maybe there’s a counter spell in the form of a question? Or maybe it has to do with communicating with Scam and Glenn and we can only communicate to ask the one question so we need to deliver some kind of information to them?” Grant started pacing.

            “Maybe we have to ask them something subjective?” Terry Junior offered. “Something that doesn’t have a true or false answer?”

            “Maybe? Or maybe a total paradox, something without an answer. Like how you’re supposed to break a know-it-all AI!” Grant nodded, sending Terry Junior a grin. “That could be worth trying.”

            Nick was watching Grant pace with arms wrapped around himself, tapping his foot to get his nerves out. “So it’s like he’s trapped in some kind of computer program, and we break the program and my dad will come back?”

            “Well, maybe?” Grant sighed. “I guess we need to try something.”

            “Yeah,” Henry perked up. “Okay, so Grant, how about you try the uh, the paradox thing? Like asking ‘is the answer to this question true or false’! And if that doesn’t work, Terry Junior can try for a subjective question?”

            Terry nodded. “Yeah, like if people are inherently good or evil.”

            “Ooh, that’s a really good one, Terry!” Henry grinned. “Personally, I think humans are inherently good, but since good and evil acts and thoughts can be subjective concepts depending on culture and- well anyway, that sounds great. See Nick? We’ll figure this out!”

            “I guess…” Nick muttered.

            “Wait!” Ron said quickly. “Um, before we break them, I want to ask my question!” Without waiting for a response, Ron hurried in front of Scam and Glenn and asked something. He got a response and then looked a touch confused as he awkwardly thanked the pair and backed away. “Um, Terry? Which one of them told the truth, again?”

            “Scam. The left one, dad.”

            “Oh!” Ron squinted at the pair, and then his face fell. “Oh… huh. I-I guess I… I guess I knew that… heheh…” Ron withdrew from the group to crouch on the floor and draw patterns on the tile with his finger. Terry Junior sighed and put his face in his hands.

            “God Ron… Grant, let’s just get this over with.”

            “Right.”

            So Grant approached the desk, presumably to ask his paradoxical question. He received an answer that made him frown. He backed off and shrugged. “Uh, they did give me an answer, but it was basically just uh, well it didn’t help.”

            “A non-answer? Hm. What do you think, Darryl? Do you think it’s worth getting Terry Junior to try to ask his subjective question?”

            “Uh, I dunno. He should ask… something…” Darryl drew out, wondering if the magic would stop him giving even that much of a clue to the answer he got and was relieved that it didn’t. “But I don’t know what he should ask. It seems like if the paradox thing didn’t work there should be more to it? Maybe it should be a… certain… question… oh sick it didn’t stop me then either, this ‘can’t repeat questions’ curse allows for a lot.”

            “Probably put in place automatically instead of deliberately due to the sudden unexpected dungeon build,” the Library supplied. “Often leads to more buggy, loophole riddled curses in my experience.”

            “So then a subjective question might work still,” Terry hummed. “I’ll give it a shot, we have Nick’s question left if it doesn’t work.” Nick swallowed hard as Terry Junior approached the desk.

            Suffice to say, it didn’t work. Terry Junior returned to the group with a thoughtful frown. “I thought it was subjective, but both of them gave me the same answer. Well, I mean, if Glenn’s lying the answer would be the same for both of them technically. Maybe they both agree on the subjective answer and don’t consider it subjective?”

            Nick growled. “Well what the FUCK do we do now? I’m the only one left to ask a question, and we have no fucking idea what question will break them out of this!”

            The Library hummed. “You know, we may not need to break them free this way either. It’s possible that if we destroy Willy Stampler’s power, this spell will end automatically. So don’t worry too much if whatever you ask doesn’t work.”

             Nick’s lips pressed together as he clearly was thinking very hard. “So my dad, he’s the one who lies, right?”

            “Yeah, we think so?”

            “Okay. Okay well, fuck it. If I only get this one question and there’s no way to know what will help and maybe we can save him anyway by fucking up Willy then I’m at least going to hear dad say this one time. But uh, anyone got a working phone?”

            “I do?” Darryl said digging out his Nokia which Nick snatched from his hand and flipped open to fiddle with it. “Why?”

            “I’m getting a recording to play back to him later. At least it’ll be funny.”

            Nick approached the desk. He asked a question. Scam answered easily. Glenn started sweating. His mouth wasn’t moving. He started sweating harder. There was a piercing shriek in the air like a boiling kettle.

            “Seriously?” Nick snorted as Glenn’s eyes bugged out and there was a loud shattering sound like glass as Glenn’s hands shot out and slammed down on the counter.

            “NO! NO, I DON’T EVEN CARE IF IT’S A LIE! YOU WILL NEVER GET THOSE WORDS TO PASS MY LIPS! DISNEY FOREVER! DISNEY! FUCK UNIVERSAL!”

            There was a chorus of relieved laughter and Nick practically leapt over the desk to fling his arms around Glenn’s neck.

            Scam, notably, remained exactly where he was. The Library looked at him and sadly shook his head. “Well cousin, I suppose you’ll just have to wait here.” He got to his feet, setting Darryl down carefully and strode closer to the frozen monster. He leaned in and sighed dramatically. “I suppose I’m going to have to kill Mark all on my own this time.”

            “Uh, you guys are going to kill Mark?” Glenn blinked.

            “Only temporarily I think, to severe the Daddy Magic link.”

            “The what?” Glenn blinked again, seeming to be clearly muddled up even now that the spell had faded. Or else he really wasn’t aware of what had happened.

            “Uh guys?” Darryl tried, already grabbing Grant and leading him around the reception desk. “Let’s explain on the way. Henry, you said it was the one on the left?”

*

            As it turned out, Glenn did not much remember what had transpired between getting overwhelmed by zombies and fighting off the spell. It had, in his words ‘felt like a trip’ which seemed to mean he sort of remembered standing in the reception room and speaking, but couldn’t remember most of what he’d said except toward the end when he’d gotten about half the word ‘Universal’ out of his mouth before choking himself off.

            When asked if he was okay with leaving Scam behind for the moment, Glenn had shrugged. “Yeah, he’s probably fine. How you doing, Nick?”

            “Better now that you’re back, Dad.” Nick and Glenn had then given each other a high five. So that had gone well.

            What had gone less well was the plan to ride this elevator all the way to the top floor. It had been a tight fit to get all of them inside the thing, and shoulder to shoulder Ron had gotten pressed up against the elevator buttons and managed to hit every single one on the way up to the top floor (where presumably Willy would be found, the Library seemed quite sure of that anyway).

            So the group ended up in the unfortunate situation of having several members of their group, here meaning the Oak boys, pressed up against the doors. These opened before they should have, ejecting all three Oak-Garcias onto the next floor up. Said second floor looked something like a darkened office full of cubicles and set upon by a thick fog lining the floor.

            This would have been enough of a problem, except that the door started to close again before they could get back inside and no one was able to hold them open. The doors pressed together with so much unrelenting force that everyone had to back away to avoid getting anything crushed between them.

            “Shit! Guys, we lost Henry!” Darryl needlessly informed the group as the elevator moved up again. “Should we get out at the next floor and uh, try to find stairs or something?”

            “Hm, I don’t know Darryl. I didn’t see any stairs on the first floor, they may not have them in this building,” the Library cautioned as the group peered out into the inky gloom of the third floor. There was a chill emanating from it as well.

            “Yeah, that floor looks mad spooky, I’m not going in there,” Glenn grumbled, leaning against the wall with Nick tucked into his side.

            “Well we can’t just leave him! C-can we?” Darryl looked to Grant, who shrugged.

            “I mean, he’s one of our main spell casters so it’s pretty inconvenient but he’ll probably be looking to try and meet us at the top floor anyway. If we leave and try to look for him we all might end up wasting our time trying to find each other and Willy could come into his full power before we can stop him.”

            “I guess…” Darryl looked dubious, but at times like this you had to listen to your team. “Alright, we’ll keep going up then I guess? But we need to figure out what we’re going to do on the top floor. Like Grant said, Henry was an important part of the team and we’re going to have to make up for him if he can’t get up there in time to help.”

            The doors opened again, and this time the Library gasped. “I think I know where Mark is.”

            “Yeah, looks like it,” Glenn muttered, frowning sharply at the flashing lights and thick smell of buttered popcorn. “This doesn’t look like something Willy Stampler would come up with.”

            It really wasn’t. When the doors opened, it became clear that the interior space of the building did not follow regular space-time laws. The elevator faced a top box overlooking a gigantic three ring circus. The audience was cast in darkness but hundreds of glow sticks waved in the air and cheering could be heard. In the ring to the left, a number of clowns in giant cartoonish masks danced in a kick line on a trapeze while a clown car shaped like an ambulance circled beneath them. In the ring to the right, a giant metal ball stood with what looked like five motorcycles driving around the inside in tandem, seeming to defy gravity as they made full vertical circuits though no drivers were to be seen.

            In the center ring stood only a single, short finger in a red tailcoat. A very familiar ringmaster.

            “Yeah, uh, Pops never took me to the circus. Um, I asked to go once and uh, he didn’t um, approve.” Ron swallowed and then kicked at the ground solemnly. “Why does Mark get to go to the circus? W-why not me?”

            "Because I never failed our father, Ron!” Mark Likely’s voice echoed around the cavernous space from his place in the center ring under the spotlight. The crowd quieted as Mark went on. “Unlike you. My adopted father has been very forthcoming about how much of a disappointment you were to him!”

            “D-disappointed?” Ron seemed to wilt under Mark’s words and Darryl wished there was a close door button. Why weren’t the doors closing already? “M-my dad’s… disappointed?” He took a shaky breath. “I guess I knew that.”

            Terry Junior put a hand on Ron’s shoulder and Ron took another shuddering breath that turned into a sob pressed into his step-son’s shirt.

            “Aw Ron…” Terry grimaced as he looked at Darryl helplessly. Darryl turned to the Library.

            “Okay well, there he is! Do we just uh, attack him or…?”

            The Library let out a long, put upon sigh. “I suppose. You know, maybe I should have just taken Scam with us. He might’ve made a good distraction since Mark would probably be drawn to getting direct revenge.”

            Terry Junior perked up. “Oh, what if Glenn pretended to be Scam? Could Mark tell the difference?”

            The Library perked up as well. “Ooh, maybe! Actually he might not even need to pretend, seeing as Mark may blame Glenn for taking up Scam’s attention!”

            “You know I can hear you, right?” Mark asked from his center ring, arms swinging awkwardly at his sides. “Look, I would be more than happy to beat the shit out of Glenn, and I do plan to kill all of you, but you’re not going to trick me so just get in here so I can set my clown puppet minions on you.”

            The party exchanged looks, but finally shrugged and stepped out of the elevator which immediately closed behind them. A whirling mechanical noise signalled that it had left without them aboard it. The moment that fact sunk in, Mark Likely’s laughter began to fill the circus, echoed by the unseen spectators and the clowns in the kick line and oh, more clowns were pouring into the circus from the darkness obscuring the audience.

            Darryl shook out his fists. The Library spread his limbs and extended his tongue. Grant and Terry Junior reached for their magic. Nick reached for his knives. Glenn found he didn’t have any of his weapons on him, so he just started loudly humming It’s The Final Countdown in hopes of instilling some bardic inspiration on the party.

            And then the lights went out. Darryl reached blindly for Grant next to him, only just managing to seize his bicep in a vice grip before he was grabbed by several hands and dragged backwards into a familiar chest. There was a chorus of screams that rang in his ears, and then they went suddenly silent. In fact, everything went silent.

            “Grant?” Darryl asked, “You okay?”

            “I-I think so?”

            “And are you okay, my dear Darryl?” The arms around him squeezed tighter.

            “Yeah. Uh, Glenn? Ron? Still okay?”

            No one responded.

            “Shit.”

*

            When the lights had gone out, Ron had instinctively started screaming at the top of his lungs and jumped up on Terry Junior’s back like a terrified Yoda, clinging as Terry tried to convince him that everything was okay. Not that it was very convincing. Ron couldn’t see. He couldn’t hear anything either save for his stepson’s platitudes and even those felt oddly muffled.

            “Terry, are you still there?”

            “Ron, you’re literally clinging to me.”

            “Oh, right. Um, is everyone else gone?”

            There was a pause as both of them strained to listen, but they couldn’t hear anything else. Terry Junior huffed. “I think they might be? I can try to scan for signs of life but you need to get down.” Ron grabbed tighter. “Dad, come on…”

            Ron whined in the back of his throat, but slowly released Terry with his legs so his feet hit the floor, and then slowly released the death grip on his shoulders. Just as he made to draw away Terry’s fingers wrapped around one of his hands and held on firmly.

            “Um, keep some physical contact if you can. We need to stick together, and it’s possible physical contact is what kept us together in the first place.”

            “Wow Terry, you’re so smart! You really take after Samantha. Um, do you know where we are?”

            Terry’s grip on Ron’s hand tightened briefly as breath hissed between his teeth. Ron thought that meant he was thinking. “Well, assuming this is Mark Likely doing something? This might be some kind of spell that’s just cut off our sight and ability to hear anyone we aren’t touching, in which case we’re in trouble because we won’t see what’s attacking us. Otherwise, I guess we might be in a pocket dimension?”

            “Pocket? OH, like the Fanny Pack of Holding I decapitated Terry Senior with?”

            “I- god, yes, like the thing you used to kill the man I thought was my actual father in front of me, yes. We might be in something like that. It’s not something a normal spellcaster would be able to do, but since Mark is technically an eldritch monster he could have powers like this. Maybe. I guess.”

            “Um, okay, so is that bad?”

            “Not sure yet. I need both hands for this so uh, put one hand on my shoulder again I guess.”

            “Sure thing, son!” Ron said, unable to keep the glee out of his voice as he placed what he considered to be a very fatherly hand on his stepson’s shoulder and waited while Terry Junior mumbled a few words. A spark of light blossomed between his hands, casting both their faces in a warm orange glow.

            “Okay, so we haven’t had our sight cut off so I’m guessing pocket dimension or a sophisticated illusion.” The orb of light flickered slightly and then rippled. A few tiny beads of light split off from it and hovered in mid-air for a moment before racing off into the inky darkness in different directions. Terry breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay so, looks like there’s still living creatures in here with us. Maybe we all got sent here and separated, or maybe this is really just an illusion. DISPEL MAGIC!” Terry waited a moment. There was a slight ripple in the air but nothing else. Terry grinned. “Okay, an illusion, then. A pocket dimension wouldn’t react to that I’m pretty sure, though obviously I’m not high enough level to dispel this. The Library might be, though. I hope he thinks of trying it.”

            “Me too, heheh, uh, so what do we do now?”

            “Not sure. I can’t dispel the illusion. Maybe we should follow one of the lights that were leading to life sources? Even if it’s an enemy at least they might have loot on them that could help if we beat them or pickpocketed them or something. You’re a rogue, right?”

            “A what?”

            “Never mind, let’s just try to find something.”

            “You got it, son!”

*

            The Library had consented to release Darryl from his death grip under the proviso that Darryl hold onto his hand, and with Grant’s hand in his other Darryl found himself feeling like a first grade student in the middle of a daisy chain snaking down a hallway so he wouldn’t get lost. A hallway that was very wide, and quiet, and completely dark.

            Darryl was secretly quite happy to be holding both their hands, the dark was getting to him. The Library had made an orb of light, but it only seemed to light up the three of them and, when lowered, the very shiny black floor. Everything else seemed to be void, and that wasn’t very encouraging.

            “Are you sure you can’t just try Dispel Magic again?” Grant muttered. They’d been walking for at least twenty minutes from what it felt like to Darryl.

            “If it didn’t work the first time I don’t see why it would work now. I have to assume Willy gave Mark a power boost if even I can’t do anything to break the illusion,” the Library sighed in irritation.

            “Well we can’t just keep wandering around blind,” Darryl said firmly, even though he didn’t exactly have an alternative. They kept walking. “There’s got to be something we’re supposed to do to get out of this.”

            “Generally speaking yes, but it’s also possible that we’re just supposed to wait for Mark to turn up and fight us.”

            Grant huffed. “That sounds like shitty dungeon building if we’re just sitting around doing nothing while we wait for the others to get their turns.”

            “Well Mark is physically about fourteen right now, I don’t expect his plans to be sophisticated. Also as I said before, this dungeon was spawned automatically so it’s kind of sloppy.”

            “Hey, I’m younger than that and I could make a better dungeon than a fucking void.”

            “Yes, but dear Grant, you are much more intelligent than the average fourteen year old.”

            “Oh.” Darryl registered a note in Grant’s voice that sounded flattered. “Well uh, thanks I guess. Um, pretty sure Terry Junior’s smarter than me though.”

            “Well I won’t deny he mastered some advanced necromancy techniques much faster than most adults, but just because you’re not a prodigy doesn’t mean you aren’t very bright!”

            Grant’s hand tightened in Darryl’s own. “Well uh. Thanks.”

            “Don’t mention it! Also, great news! Or, well, news anyway. I guess I’m not sure if it’s good, but I think I see something!”

            Darryl immediately began twisting his head around, squinting into the gloom until he thought he knew what the Library meant. There, in the distance to the left of them, was a pinprick of white light. “I think I see it too. Should we uh, go toward it?”

            Grant huffed. “Well I don’t see what else we can do, might as well.”

            So the group diverted course and headed for the white light. Slowly it grew in size, from a pinprick to a distant golf ball.

            “This is taking a while, huh?” Darryl commented. That was when the light started growing much faster. In fact, even as the group stopped in their tracks the light seemed to be hurtling toward them, getting closer and bigger and bigger and-

            “HOLD ON!” The Library shouted as a screech rose in their ears and the light made impact with a rush of wind stronger than Darryl expected. Strong enough that in less than a second the hands he had clasped so tightly in his were ripped free as he was swept off his feet. Then he was falling, faster and faster. He had to squeeze his eyes shut against the brightness and the wind.

             Then everything stopped.

             Darryl groaned. He was on his back, but immediately realised something was off. He wasn’t on the ground, for one thing. It felt like he was laying on something warm and soft, but his back ached like he’d fallen on it. He took in a sharp breath through his nose and became confused. He smelled pancakes. Why would he smell…? And fabric softener, the same kind he bought from Walmart. 

            Darryl cracked an eye open slowly against the soft light pouring into the window of his bedroom. His bedroom in San Dimas. He could distantly hear humming in the kitchen. Carol’s humming.

            Hands twisting into his white bed sheets, Darryl felt his heart start beating rapidly in his chest. How could this be? How could he be home?

            “Hey honey, how’re you feeling? You hit your head pretty hard last night!” Darryl scrambled to sit up, his brain pounding in his skull as he took in the sight of his wife smiling from the doorway, a pile of waffles held in her hands. She was wearing the pink blouse he’d bought her for her birthday, those hip-hugging jeans he always loved, and even the earrings he had bought her for Christmas he swore he’d never seen her wear after that day. “I was afraid you should have gone to the ER, but I guess you were right about being fine! I made you breakfast in bed anyway and took the day off to take care of you.”

            “G-Grant, where’s Grant?” Darryl asked, still feeling breathless. Like the wind had been knocked out of him. Hadn’t it? This couldn’t be real, could it?

            “Grant’s already at school, honey. Don’t worry, you just stay in here. I’ll get everything for you today, alright? How about you try these waffles?”

            Darryl stared at the waffles as they were shoved under his nose by his loving wife. He swallowed hard, sent her a shaky smile, and said: “Ah, maybe later. Not hungry right now.”

            He pretended he didn’t the twitch in her eye as she took the plate back. “Maybe later!” she said crisply. Then she grinned and sat on the bed with Darryl, placing a bold hand on his thigh and wiggling her eyebrows in that way he always found extremely sexy. “Would you like anything else now?” Her hand was warm and welcoming, her smile just a little mischievous, and Darryl felt a tug of nostalgia but… nothing else. Nothing he thought he ought to feel when he looked at the mother of his child.

            Darryl swallowed again and tried another smile that came more as a grimace. “Yeah I’m uh, I don’t actually feel that great. M-maybe I uh, maybe I should go to the hospital after all, like you said.”

            Carol gave Darryl a dull look and drew her hand away. “Hm. Well, how about we give it some more time first? Maybe later.”

            “Maybe later,” Darryl agreed easily as Carol withdrew from the bed and finally left the room. Darryl shivered and tried very hard to think.

            He knew one thing for sure. The Wilson Family Waffle Iron had been broken for three years and never replaced because Darryl kept insisting he could fix it himself and never managed it. So those waffles couldn’t exist. Not to mention Carol hadn’t made him breakfast in bed since Grant was a toddler.

            That wasn’t his wife, and he had to get out of there.

*

            The Library opened his eyes and was immediately hit by a wave of confusion. He was still in his castle. He was still in his castle. He was sitting on his chair in the corner of the Great Hall, piles of warm books filling the floor in front of him. He blinked, listening hard and could hear nothing. He instinctively reached into his flesh network to find Darryl.

            It was weird. He felt… something. Darryl was around somewhere, but he couldn’t pinpoint him. Not to mention, well, he had just been lost in a void with Darryl and Grant, hadn’t he? It’s not like the Library was in the habit of falling asleep, so how could he have just hallucinated all that? This was clearly some kind of illusion. He had to cast Dispel Magic and then-

            “Library?”

            The Library looked up toward the door leading into the residential portion of the castle and saw Darryl standing there, swathed in the same blue robe he wore when they were first properly intimate together and nothing else. He was biting his lip and looking more than a little nervous.

            A goofy grin spread over the Library’s face. “Dearest Darryl! How are you? Have you seen Grant around?”

            Darryl cocked his head to one side in a most adorable way as a baffled smile crossed his face. “Grant? He went home to Earth, remember?”

            The Library’s grin faltered. That wasn’t right, certainly he would have remembered that. “And you… stayed?”

            “Of course I did!” Darryl laughed, crossing the room swiftly, maybe too swiftly, one moment in the doorway the next in the Library’s arms, in his lap. “Why would I go back to Carol after she left me when I’ve got you to take care of me here?”

            Then Darryl ground his hips down sharply and the Library gasped. Plush lips pressed against his own and that scent filled his nostrils and…

            “Come on Library, how about you take me to the kitchen and make a feast out of me?”

            Maybe the Library should have acknowledged how very out of character that suggestion was, but with his senses so overwhelmed and his heart hammering in his chest, all he could think was that he was so very much in love, and he could deny his Darryl nothing…

*

            Grant was running at fast as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest as he crossed the Four Knights arena, but it was hard to escape someone on wheels.

            “COME ON GRANT! I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME!” Yeet Bigly laughed as he did an ollie over a fallen tree and remained firmly on Grant’s heels.

            While Grant couldn’t deny that he had a crush on Yeet when he’d met him in Four Knights, that had been several months ago now and since then he’d been re-kidnapped, tortured, rescued, witnessed his dad flirting with a monster, found out his parents were getting a divorce, had to kick his dad’s ass into escaping said monster, travelled in the woods killing monsters and bandits for weeks, had to save the other kids, nearly died so many times…

            Suffice to say, that crush was long dead and buried and so far from his mind that when Yeet tried to kiss him out of nowhere Grant had instinctively raised a hand defensively and burnt half his face off. Which of course horrified Grant for the few moments he had thought that perhaps he was still in Four Knights somehow, but when Yeet started laughing and looked up with his handsome face a grinning half-skull, Grant knew he had to get moving and fast.

            The ground under his feet was uneven and it seemed like the trees and shrubs were spawning in front of him out of nowhere. He gasped and leapt off a short ledge, trying desperately to think. This was obviously an illusion, and it seemed to have been banking on him having enough of an emotional connection to Yeet that he wouldn’t be shaken out of it. It was also based on his own memories. Something like being in a waking nightmare. He still felt physical pain so he didn’t think he was strictly asleep either.

            He would need to cast Dispel Magic, but more powerfully than he ever had before. More powerfully than even the Library could normally manage. He didn’t think he had the magic at his disposal, though he knew if he cast it at as high a level as he was able to there might be a small chance it would still work. He wished he had something that would give him a power boost. But if everything around him was an illusion, he was stuck with what he had on his person, and that wasn’t much.

            He did notice that even though Yeet should have overtaken him by now, as long as he kept running he wasn’t quite catching up. So maybe the goal wasn’t to physically harm him, maybe just to stop him from concentrating? He didn’t know why the goal wouldn’t be to kill him outright. Maybe Mark wasn’t that bloodthirsty? Or maybe Willy had wanted to kill them himself? Or maybe the trap was just sloppy, like the Library said.

            He ran past the burnt remains of the haberdashery and felt a short burst of relief that he hadn’t seen any sign of poisonous gas yet. He had to take the chance with Dispel Magic no matter how slim, but he still needed a moment to stand still to do that and if Yeet was going to make him keep running as his chest burnt with effort, he’d be too out of breath to bother even if he got the chance.

            Fuck it, he had to try to fight, then. Grant skidded to a stop and made to turn around, only to feel a hard weight barrel into his back and push him down first to his knees and then his stomach, firmly knocking the wind out of him. Yeet knelt one knee squarely in the center of his back and held down his head with one hand.

            “Wow Grant! You sure do run fast! That’s something I always admired about you, quite the survivor!”

             The voice sounded all wrong and Grant wheezed into the dirt. “Mark?”

            “Hm… in a manner of speaking you could say so! Not here personally, but this little fabrication is as good of a vessel as any. Quite the cool looking guy, you have good taste, kid!”

            “Look, either kill me or get off!”

            “Easy tiger, just thought I’d offer you a little deal! You have every reason to be mad at your caregiver, right? You dad basically abandoned you to screw around with my cousin, right? My brother did basically the same thing with your friend when he was supposed to be hanging out with me! I think we’ve got a lot in common! What’s say you come with me to your Dad’s little dream world, kill him in cold blood, and then I’ll let you be one of my officers when I lead Willy Stampler’s army to conquer Faerun?”

            Grant frowned, but he did give that offer some thought. “… and if I say no?”

            “I kill you.”

            “That’s not much of a choice.”

            “Best offer I’m giving anyone else today.”

            “I- you know what? Yeah. Sure. Take me to my dad and uh, let’s… kill him I guess?”

            “Great! I knew it, no one REALLY loves their caregivers… stupid Scam…” Mark muttered as Yeet finally got off Grant’s back and he crawled up to his hands and knees, realising with a start he was looking at familiar linoleum tiles.

            He was in his kitchen on Earth. There was humming behind him. He turned and felt paralyzed with shock as his mother swayed from side to side while she stirred something on the stove that smelled amazing which was weird cause his mom didn’t cook… really ever. That was more the realm of-

            “Grant?” Grant’s head swivelled toward the kitchen table and he shouted in alarm. His dad was tied to a chair with a mountain of fatty foods littering the table in front of him. He looked a little bloated and was sweating heavily.

            “Dad! Just give me a second!” Grant jumped up and ran to his father, tearing futilely at the knots and looking over his shoulder at his mom, who still hadn’t turned despite the noise. “That’s not really mom, is it?”

            “No, absolutely not. Whoever she is, she sort of acted like Carol at first but it… it was weird? Off, I guess? And then I told her I knew she wasn’t the real Carol and then uh, sh-she didn’t like that.”

            “I’ll bet. Oh, duh, magic,” Grant snapped his fingers to make a flame to burn the ropes off as the thing that was not his mother finally gave an irritated little sigh, though not in Carol Wilson’s voice.

            “Urgh, of course you wouldn’t follow a simple instruction. No one’s ever on my side, are they? Is it really that hard to believe I joined up with Willy? Urgh, this puppet feels weird, jesus what kind of complicated feelings soup is in here? Yuck yuck yuck…” His mother’s body twitched and jerked away from the stove as if held on strings and when it turned both father and son let out gasps of horror to find what looked like a china doll’s face complete with staring glass eyes instead of Carol’s.

            “Okay, she did NOT look or sound like that before, I swear!” Darryl insisted as he shook off the remains of the ropes and got up to tug Grant behind him.

            “I know dad, it’s Mark Likely. I guess she’s some kind of puppet, all of this is an illusion!”

            “Ha! I knew this wasn’t real! Or uh, that at least some wasn’t- no, no I pretty sure-”

            “Dad, focus!”

            “Right, right, sorry just… seeing Carol after all this time and then it not being her and then she tied me up and made me eat spicy chicken wings and… right not the time.”

            “Yeah yeah, shut up. Time to die, douchebags. I’m busy handling all these little illusions at once, so I’ll bounce and leave this to your wife, yeah?” Mark snapped his fingers and with that the Carol puppet began to bubble and mutate, its legs and arms growing wider and hairier, its hips swelling into a bulbous body, and the head glittering with numerous opening eyes.

            Darryl shrieked as the newly formed giant spider’s foreleg launched toward him, only just managing to dodge out of the way as he grabbed Grant and threw him over his shoulder.

            “Urgh, dad! I can fight!”

            “Good, you shoot her and I’ll give us some distance!”

            “Oh, uh, right!” Grant said, feeling a touch of surprise as he geared up a shot and fired off a magic missile dead at the spider’s face. The beast screamed and pawed at its face, mandibles gnashing as one of its eyes leaked black ichor down onto them.

            “Nice shot, son! You know, if you ever want to go to a shooting range when we get home, I’d be okay with-”

            “NOT NOW, DAD!”

            “Right, right.” Darryl ran for the front door of the house onto the street, feeling quite lucky that everything seemed to be where it was supposed to be, but when he made to wrench the door open it wouldn’t budge.

            “Dad, it’s still coming at us!”

            “The door’s stuck!”

            “Is it locked?”

            “I- yes?”

            “Well unlock it!”

            Darryl blinked. He swore a second the tumbler had been missing, but now the brass locking mechanism was just under his hand. He quickly unlocked the door and heaved it open, barely taking a second to look where he was going before dashing out the door. He felt a brush of a hairy leg on his ankle, following by Grant shouting something, the sound of a small explosion and another shrill scream that frankly sounded far too much like Carol for comfort. The smell of burning hair followed them as Darryl kept running to put as much distance between them as possible.

            Darryl slowed to a stop pretty fast, however, when he realised they weren’t outside. They were… back in the castle. The castle before Willy had turned it into his personal boss dungeon that is. Specifically in the hallway outside his bedroom. In fact, Darryl thought the door to his ‘house’ might have taken the place of his own bedroom door.

            “Uh, did I make this place, too?” Darryl asked, setting Grant back on his feet when it became clear the spider hadn’t followed them.

            “No idea. I guess I should try Dispel Magic. Um…” Grant shut his eyes, took a breath, and held out his hands to cast. The walls rippled ever so slightly, and that was it. Grant sighed. “Figures, I’m not high enough level. Shit.”

            “Hey it’s okay! Um, maybe we can just try to get out of here and end up somewhere else? I dunno. Oh shit, you don’t think there’ll be some fucked up version of the Library here like with your mom, do you?”

            Grant blinked. “Um, well the Library is already kind of fucked up so I really hope not…”

            As Grant trailed off, both Wilsons froze when a loud moan poured out around the door to the kitchen. Darryl thought it was a bit familiar but couldn’t place it. Grant immediately looked sick.

            “Oh God I did NOT want to hear that again.”

            “Hear what? What is it?”

            Grant looked at the door and grimaced. “Okay, remember when I begged you to stop fucking anywhere besides your bedroom so I at least knew where to avoid you? Yeah, you weren’t exactly quiet.”

            Darryl blinked and then stared at the door. “Um, th-there’s no way I sounded like that.”

            “Wanna bet?”

            “… should uh, should I check what’s in there?”

            Grant winced. “God, I wish I could say no but since Mark tried to trick me with Yeet and you with mom… I think the Library might be in there too. Uh, maybe the real one.”

            “You think so? That would be convenient, but what makes you think-?” Darryl pushed open the door without resistance and froze dead in his tracks, reaching behind him on instinct to slap a hand over Grant’s eyes.

            That was Darryl, flat on his back on the kitchen counter he’d received blow jobs and been carved up on dozens of times before. He was buck-ass naked holding his legs open and moaning with abandon as the Library ran hands over every inch of his body, plunging his equivalent of a cock deep inside his ass. This wasn’t nearly as alarming as the several large bites that had clearly been taken out of the man’s legs and hips and shoulders, so much black blood oozing from the wounds that it pooled around his body and dripped onto the floor in a steady stream. As Darryl watched, the Library’s head leaned down and tore a hefty chunk out of his double’s pectoral muscle.

            Darryl – the real one in the doorway - gasped in horror. And, if he cared to analyze the feeling, more than a little reluctant jealousy. “Hey! What the FUCK are you doing?!”

            The Library made a confused little sound and seemed like he was moving to look in Darryl’s direction when the doppelganger on the counter’s hands shot from his open thighs to the monster’s face, dragging it down to meet his in a fierce kiss that appeared to be all teeth and tongues and the Library was moaning into it. Darryl winced as he saw more black blood seep from his double’s mouth.

            “L-Library, come on, you know that’s not me, right?” Darryl tried, pushing Grant back and creeping carefully into the room. The Library hummed as he drew away from the Darryl beneath him, licking blood from his lips as his eyes – pupils blown out and glittering – snapped up to meet Darryl’s at last. To his credit, a brief momentary look of fear and shock passed over the monster’s face before it settled into a wry smirk.

            “I see, some sort of trick from my cousin, right? You’re here to make me doubt my own beloved pet’s loyalty?”

            Darryl growled. “We’ve been over this! I’m NOT your pet! And just- that’s obviously not me! Think about it, I ALWAYS said no when you wanted to full on fuck me in the kitchen! And I sure as hell never let you take bites out of me while we were doing it- or ever! I’ll bet there’s more things too, if you’d just think about it!”

            The Library frowned, looking between the Darryl sweating, red-faced and breathing hard across the room and the Darryl sweating, red-faced and breathing hard under him and seemed to be thinking.

            The Darryl under him groaned and bucked pleasantly, and the Darryl across the room made a high, embarrassed noise as he hid his face in his hands.

            “Anything to say in your defense, Darryl?” The Library asked. The Darryl under him keened loudly and hooked his bloodied legs behind the Library’s hips. The monster flushed. “I-I’ll admit you have a good point.”

            “Oh come ON!” Darryl growled from his place as spectator. He strode purposefully across the room and grabbed one of the Library’s arms, pulling at it with enough strength that, had the Darryl on the counter not been holding on with all his supernatural strength, the Library would have had no choice but to fall backward. “You know that’s not- i-is this what you want me to be? Really? Just- just some piece of meat you can eat and fuck? That’s all you wanted all this time?”

            The Library made a pained little noise and looked at Darryl again, the real one. “No… no I want all of you, Darryl, you know I… I know this isn’t you but…”

            At last the Darryl on the countertop decided to form actual words instead of loud moans. He flexed his thighs to pull the Library in tighter to him and sent him a wide, nearly feral grin. “Why waste any more time with him? I’m close enough, aren’t I? And I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to! So what if I’m not really him? I feel real enough. Just let him leave with his stupid son. I can give you more of what you want than he can.”

            Then the Library made a choking sort of sound, and the real Darryl realised with horror that it was the beginnings of a sob. “I-it’s true, Darryl is going to leave.”

            Darryl ground his teeth together and reached for the Library again, threading a hand into his hair to coax the monster to look back at him. “Look, I get it. I do, okay? It’s… it’s hard to think I’m going to leave after everything we’ve been through, but I can’t help that I have other responsibilities! But this, everything here, it’s just an illusion designed to trap you and probably kill you!”

            The Library was silent for a moment, staring at Darryl blankly. Then: “I think I know that. I’m not… I’m not sure that’s not better.”

            “What? Library! Look, I get that you like- god. No. I know you love me. I know.” Darryl stroked the side of the Library’s face with the hand not already in his hair. “And I… I think I might love you too. I don’t know how much, or if it’s totally romantic or maybe some other… I don’t know. Henry’s better with feelings than me but he’s not here. The point is, I’m not worth this, okay? I’m not worth dying over. You’ve lived for god knows how long without me, you can do it again.”

            “But I… Darryl, if you had been largely alone as much as I have… I don’t want to go back to that. I liked having you around, more than I ever expected to.”

            “Then don’t be alone! Date someone else, move on for all I-” Darryl’s heart panged and he cut himself off as he realised he was fighting back his own tears. “Shit. Okay I… I don’t want to think about you with someone else but I sure as hell know if I have to go back to Earth having left you dead or dying I won’t be happy. Do you want me to be miserable?”

            “Of course I don’t! I want you to be happy!” The Library said, his voice tight with stress. The doppelganger writhed.

            “I’m happy! I’m happy, Library!”

            “Shut UP!” Darryl snapped. “For fuck’s sake, can you at least pull out while we have this conversation?”

            “Uh, nope! He’s uh, he’s actually got me pretty well pinned!” The Library admitted, making visible effort against the thighs gripping him and failing to escape. Darryl grumbled and opened one of the kitchen drawers, happy enough to find a cleaver there.

            If it had been a human Darryl wouldn’t have considered this, but given it was clearly another puppet illusion thing that stole his face… “Don’t worry, he can’t hold on if he doesn’t have any legs.”

            “WOAH! That’s pretty dark for you, Darryl!” The Library laughed, tugging more insistently against the fake Darryl’s thighs and grabbing hands as the thing started growling instead of moaning. “You know, if this is one of Mark’s puppets it might actually be lucky we’re in such a compromising position. It means there’s no way in hell Mark is going to try to possess it right now, he’s probably avoiding watching this at all. Honestly a very poor dungeon design, this is why you should always take your time with these things!”

            It seemed that whatever fugue the Library had been in, now he was free enough that he could help Darryl by throwing his hands down on the fake and held it long enough for Darryl to hack its legs off at the knees. It didn’t cry out, it seemed to respond with… pleasure… which Darryl really didn’t want to think about that hard.

            Then the Library was finally able to get away from the fake Darryl, and immediately scooped the real thing into his arms and practically crushed him into his skinny chest. His shoulders were shaking under Darryl’s hands.

            “I don’t want to give you up, Darryl.”

            “I know. But uh, can we talk about this when we’re all safe, maybe? We still have to kill Mark and get out of here.”

            “Yes, of course you’re right, but…” the monster trailed off. “Ah, don’t we need to find young Grant first?”

            “Oh yeah, he should be in the hall,” Darryl shuffled out of the Library’s grip and went for the kitchen door. It opened into an empty hall. “Oh, shit.”

*

            Grant had only been waiting in the hallway for his dad for about thirty seconds before he heard screaming from the direction of the Great Hall. He made first to open the kitchen door to call for his dad but… maybe it would be better to get a quick look at what they were dealing with first.

            So he ran down the hall and rounded the corner, freezing to see what appeared to be a restaurant straight out of Disneyland, a bunch of cafeteria style tables and Disney décor on every wall. In the center, Nick and Glenn Close stood on a table while Donald, Daisy, Goofy and Mickey Mouse mascots with rotting, blackened fabric hanging dissolving off their costumes in tattered chunks and their mouths open with sharp teeth gnashing clawed their way toward them. Nick was swinging his chive and Glenn was wielding a chair, but they were quickly losing this battle.

            Honestly, since neither of them had access to magic, it was a wonder they’d lasted this long. Grant knew there was no time to go for help. Rolling up his sleeves, Grant brought fire to his palms, readying a strike.

            “Hey Mickey, I don’t think they’re interested in joining your Fan Club!”

            As it turned out, the mascot costumes were pretty fucking flammable. It wasn’t long before Glenn and Nick were jumping over piles of foul-smelling burnt sludge and following Grant as they ran out of the restaurant and the second they passed there the door Grant skid to a stop and shrieked as Nick and Glenn barreled right into him, he only just managing to stop before tumbling over the edge of a VERY high platform.

            It took a second to realise the pounding in his ears wasn’t his own rapid heartbeat but instead the roaring of an obscenely sonorous crowd as Grant and the Close boys stood on one side of an absurdly high tight rope. A quick glance revealed that there wasn’t a net below, either. Grant turned to see the door they had come from was gone, not that this was a surprise.

            “Huh. You know I’m not normally one to be mad about an unexpected high, but this isn’t looking too good for us, boys,” Glenn snorted.

            “Yeah…” Grant grit his teeth and squinted across the tightrope to the distant other side and saw a ladder leading down from that platform. “I think we have to cross. Um, how’s your balance?”

            “Not fucking great,” Nick spat. “This sucks.”

            Then another door opened directly above them and Darryl and the Library fell directly on top of them.

            “Fuck,” Glenn muttered from the bottom of the impromptu dog pile. The group had to squirm quite a lot to get back on their feet without losing anyone over the edge of the platform (not that they don’t have a few near-misses).

            “What the- Glenn?! Nick- GRANT! Grant what’s… where are we- WOAH that’s high! Uuuuh…”

            “Dad, calm down, the other side has uh, WOAH!” Grant yelped as the whole room shook, and Nick very nearly fell over the edge before Glenn managed to grab him and plaster him into his side.

            “ALRIGHT, SO, THAT DIDN’T EXACTLY WORK. BUT WHATEVER! I’VE GOT YOU ALL IN ANOTHER TRAP NOW, AND THIS ONE WILL WORK WAY BETTER!”

            Mark’s voice was like a cannon, and the group turned to find him in his ringmaster outfit again, hovering in the air over the center of the tightrope riding a unicycle. It was quite the display.

            The Library sighed in irritation. “Mark, did you not think this through? Do you actually have a plan or are you just throwing death traps at us until something sticks?”

            “WELL IT’S NOT LIKE ANYONE SAT DOWN AND EXPLAINED TO ME HOW TO MAKE AN EFFECTIVE HERO-KILLING STRATEGY! I’VE BEEN NEGLECTED! SUE ME!”

            “Not an excuse to be a murderous world-ending prick!” Nick snapped. “Why don’t you just smoke weed like the rest of us neglected kids?”

            “Yeah!” Glenn snapped, and the Close boys did a righteous fist bump of solidarity. Then Glenn looked down at his fist with a frown. “Oh wait…”

            “HEY, WE ALL HAVE OUR OWN COPING STRATEGIES, DON’T SHAME ME FOR MINE! ANYWAY, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU ALL TO EARN WILLY’S LOVE NOW OR SOMETHING.” Mark paused, then, and seemed to be doing a quick head count of his targets. “UH, WHAT HAPPENED TO RON AND TERRY?”

*

            What had happened to Ron and Terry is that Ron and Terry had managed to find where the elevator doors were, even lost in the void illusion. Necrotic magic, evidently, was able to pierce the veil just enough to show them the outline of the room’s one exit when they reached it. The doors themselves wouldn’t open, but Ron managed to bump into a ventilation grate, and once they had pried it open (still unable to see it) they climbed inside and after a few feet travelled into the wall the void lifted and they were faced by what appeared to be normal air ducts, blown up large enough for a person to crawl through without trouble. They were able to follow these to the elevator shaft, and were able to determine that the elevator was below them, albeit a fair distance.

            A quick slide down the elevator cable landed them on the top of the elevator car, and using one of his extra-sharp business cards Ron managed to unscrew a panel from the top to drop down into the elevator below.

            “Erm, should we go back to the floor the others were on?” Ron asked, finger hovering over the buttons beside them.

            “Um, do you know what floor they were on?”

            “Uuuuuh, no?”

            “Right,” Terry Junior sighed and rubbed his neck nervously. “Well uh, do you… do you want to just go to the top floor where Willy’s supposed to be?”

            Ron’s eyes flew open and he swallowed. “Um, also no? But uh, um, i-if you think we should then… I guess?” He winced and Terry Junior sighed heavily and set a firm hand on Ron’s shoulder.

            “Ron… Dad. I can honestly say after all the absolute bat shit stuff Willy has put me- us, through since we got to this world, I understand you more than I ever wanted to. He was a nightmare as a… a ‘necromancy tutor’.” He grimaced. “But growing up with him? Fuck, dude, I don’t know. You didn’t grow up to be anything like him anyway, and that’s honestly probably the best anyone could expect of you after dealing with that guy so long. And for the record, I’m pretty sure he would’ve hated you no matter what. He’s just kind of a shitty guy.”

            “H-he’s still my dad.”

            “Yeah, I know. And trust me, I know why you don’t want to go up there. But I’m not saying we need to fight him! Just go up there, check out what’s going on, and meet the rest of the guys when they get up there with us. I mean, uh, the Closes and the Wilsons might be stuck fighting Mark, but the Oak-Garcias are going to try to meet us up there, right? Hell, they might be up there already fighting Willy!”

            Ron blinked slowly and looked down at his hands, fingers twisting together. “Geez Terry, th-that’s um… w-why can’t we just wait here in the elevator for the others, though?”

            “Cause that bastard is sitting up there waiting for us, and I want to be the one to stop him!” Terry Junior snapped, and as Ron stared at his stepson his boyish face flushed and his hands clenched into fists. “He hurt you, he hurt my friends, he hurt ME! He’s killed hundreds of people, made Lark and Sparrow kill even more, and made me pilot their corpses like fucking marionettes. He made me handle DEAD BODIES! Not even that fucked up vampire guy who pretended to be my dad did anything HALF that fucked up! And I don’t know what he’s done with Paeden but I never once treat that kid like a person. If he treated us like shit, Paeden like a-an object to him it was so fucked… I’m done with all these stupid games and puzzles or whatever else is in this stupid tower. I don’t care about killing Mark Likely even if it DOES ruin Willy’s plan, cause all he’s gonna do is find another kid and do this again! So I’m going up there to see if I can hit that fucker hard enough that he can’t hurt anyone else ever again!”

            “B-b-b-but h-h-h-he…”

            “God, okay. Okay. Look, Ron, I get if you can’t do this. But I’m going up there. You can… you can hide in the elevator if you want once we’re there. I mean, without Daddy Magic, I’m probably more powerful than you anyway so… so it’s fine.”

            “N-no!” Ron swallowed. “No, a-as your father, I-I forbid it! Y-y-you’ll die! Terry, Willy’s not- he’ll kill you Terry I can’t let you do that!”

            Terry shut his eyes, grit his teeth, and then his hand shot out and pressed the button for the top floor. Ron gasped. “Terry, no!”

            “Ron, it’s too late. We’ll go up there, take a look, and if it looks too dangerous we’ll leave. Okay?”

            His lungs were aching with effort to control his breathing, and his eyes were stinging with tears, but Ron nodded. He didn’t see much other choice. “Y-yeah. B-but uh, i-if you go in there to f-fight my dad, um. I-I-I’ll go with you. I won’t leave you to face him alone, Terry.”

            “Thanks, Dad.”

*

            When the elevator doors slid open, it was hard to say what Ron was expecting to see. Maybe a boardroom full of important investors and connections that his dad would scold him for interrupting. Maybe it would be a giant, intimidating office with massive windows overlooking the world he meant to conquer, with a big mahogany desk and a tall chair that would turn around all menacingly when Ron and Terry walked in.

            At the least, Ron expected it to be indoors. And he didn’t expect to recognise it.

            As the doors opened, a cool breeze fled into the elevator and wrapped around Ron and his stepson, sending a shiver down his spine and breaking his arms into gooseflesh. It smelt fresh, like foliage right after a rainstorm, or like grass still soaked with dew.

            They left the cold tile of the elevator and tested their feet on soft dirt, just damp enough to leave muddy residue on their shoes and got a proper look at the space they had walked into. By all accounts, they seemed to be outside.

            The sky was overcast and dim with an early morning’s twilight. The mud under their feet cut a path through lush grasses that stretched up to their ankles, covering the meadow-like clearing ringed by large, intimidating pine trees around the edge. The trees were thick enough to block any view of what might lie beyond them.

            Directly in front of them stretched a lake, wide and still. The far edge showed only more trees like those around them now. At the edge of the lake nearest them, a crumbling wooden dock stretched out from the shore into the water, and beside it rested a tiny green rowboat loaded with paddles and fishing gear.

            “This is weird,” Terry Junior said, and his voice sounded strange. Like it didn’t carry as far as it should have, like the air itself was so still it refused to bear it.

            “This is where my dad died.”

            “What?” Terry gaped as Ron walked past him, feeling numb and yet moving anyway like a puppet on strings. He headed straight for the dock and then stared into the boat as though it might hold the secrets of the universe.

            “Yeah. Heh, it’s his hat. It floated, after he fell in.”

            “Jesus, Ron…” Terry muttered as Ron lifted a brown fishing hat from the top of the tackle box and ran his hands around the brim as though in contemplation. “Hey, hey what are you doing?! Don’t get in it!”

            “Um, I think… I think we should go for a fishing lesson, don’t you, uh, sport?” Ron smiled and patted the empty seat across from him.

            “Aren’t there any lifejackets?”

            “Just one. You should wear it, I think. Dad uh, dad never wore his.”

            Terry’s eye twitched, but as Ron watched he slowly edged forward, along the dirt and then the dock until he was next to the boat. He eased himself into it awkwardly, donning the single life jacket as he looked at Ron as though he feared the boat might explode under them at any moment. Ron breathed in deeply through his nose and took up the paddles. As though by instinct, he started to paddle away from the dock.

            “Um, so, Terry. When I was a kid, uh, my dad took me fishing.”

            “Yeah?” Terry encouraged, perhaps only as means to avoid thinking about how bat shit this situation was.

            “And uh, I always thought, if I could catch just one fish, he would be proud of me. But um, I never caught that fish, and he was never proud of me. And then he died. And even though he wasn’t proud of me, I wanted him to be alive somewhere, anywhere, so badly. I wanted to find him again, so I could have one more chance to make him proud of me. And then he turned out to be alive after all but… I don’t think I’m ever going to get that chance.”

            “Aw Ron…”

            “BUT! But I uh, I don’t think I need that chance anymore! Not from him. Cause I… cause I got lucky enough to find Samantha, and you! And it doesn’t matter if my dad wasn’t proud of me, cause I can still be proud of you! And I am proud of you, Terry. I-I don’t care if you catch a hundred fish, or just one, or none at all! I-if you want to control zombies, or play soccer, or uh, eat oatmeal with water in it, I don’t know. I-I’m always proud of you Terry. You know um, you’re mom, your hot mom-”

            “God don’t say that…”

            “-Samantha, she always says I’m enough just as I am. A-and that u-usually makes me feel… something. Something I don’t know if my dad would’ve wanted me to feel, but not for the right reasons? Uh, but you… you’re always going to be enough, just as you are, Terry. A-and I’m going to stand by your side. Cause I love you, son.”

            Terry Junior covered his mouth with his hand, eyes oddly bright as he nodded. “R-right. L-love you too, R-dad. Love you too. God. Okay. U-um, so we’re in the middle of the lake. W-what now?”

            “I think we fish,” Ron started unloading the fishing gear. “I-I don’t really remember how to do it, but it can’t be that hard. Um, there’s these pole things and uh, the hooks… uh oh, that’s pretty tangled…”

            Terry sighed and held out his hands to take the line to untangle it. “It’s okay. My dad, the real Terry Senior? He took me fishing before. I remember most of what he taught me. I could uh, I could show you how to do it, if you want?”

            Ron beamed as Terry untangled the line and set up a pole for Ron, adding a lure and neglecting to bait it when he realised the only bait available was live worms. Ron seemed relieved when Terry didn’t grab one to spear and soon both sat in the boat with lines in the water, waiting for that fateful nibble.

            They waited a long time, but the sky never lightened into day and the breeze kept blowing cold. Terry sighed. “Are you sure this is all we’re supposed to be doing? Is this going to help us find Willy?”

            Ron didn’t answer. He was staring at the fishing hat again. Then he nodded, slowly.

            “No uh, I think there’s one more thing.” Ron slowly picked up the hat and put it on.

            His lure immediately sank into the water and he only just managed to grab the pole. The boat began to move so fast that Terry lost grip on his own pole, leaving it to fall into the water and be left behind as the boat was yanked forward by whatever unseen monster swam beneath. As soon as Terry Junior realised that Ron was halfway leant out of the boat and in danger of falling he swept forward to wrap his arms around Ron’s middle, holding him as the line suddenly was pulled down instead of across the water’s surface.

            “Ron, let it go! Let g-” Terry tried to warn, but the boat abruptly tipped, and the two were sent tumbling into the water. Terry’s hands wrapped around Ron’s where they held the pole in a death grip, and Terry’s breath nearly left him in a sob as Ron looked back at him with dull eyes and an equally dull smile, and gave him his last breath to mouth-

            Let go.

            And Terry let go, spreading his arms and kicking for the surface which wasn’t nearly as far away as he’d feared, the life jacket helping propel him up.

            And Ron went down and down and down.

When he saw the giant beast with glinting teeth in a wide false smile, and wispy hair dancing in the water, skin pale like a corpse and thrumming with blossoming power, Ron didn’t feel fear, or even surprise.

            “Hi, Dad,” Ron said, suddenly finding breath in his lungs and buoyancy in his core that lifted him into a stand still, caught floating resolutely in front of the monster that had the lure caught in its mouth and still trying to drag him to his doom. “I guess you were just down here all along. I was scared of that, once. That you’d just been left down here for me to find if I looked. But I think I’m okay with that, now.”

            The beast’s false smile turned into a frown and he roared, and Ron Stampler was blown in circles through the water as it boiled around him. But this was his father now, this was what was hiding behind the eyes that didn’t love him. Now that Ron saw it here at the bottom of the place that haunted his dreams, he realised that those dreams haunted his father too.

            So he was like his dad, in one small way. One little way that made Ron realise his dad was just a human too, in the end, even like this. And that was enough. Ron wasn’t afraid anymore.

*

            Sometimes the details of the end of a fight aren’t necessary. Sometimes it can be clear enough by all the things that came before how things turned out. And sometimes you need to look at how much time you spent detailing those things and realise that spending even more time will just exhaust you and the person you’re telling it to.

            So in summation:

            Mark Likely was defeated. He was just a kid after all. A powerful, abused, murderous kid. Between the Wilsons, The Closes, The Library, and a surprise assist from the Oak-Garcias and Scam who Henry had managed to go back and rescue after dealing with many lower-ranked monsters on the floor he and his boys had been left on, Mark Likely had been exploded back into infancy and left cradled in the Library’s many arms while Darryl cooed over how cute and innocent he looked when he wasn’t trying to kill them.

            In the moment the previous Mark was no more, the tower did not dissolve around them. It swayed, and shook, but though Mark helped open the connection to Daddy Magic that the newly empowered Willy Stampler was enjoying he had still one link, a failsafe to hold it open for him if Mark was destroyed.

            Willy Stampler hadn’t anticipated how much power Daddy Magic would bring him, hadn’t realised the consequence of such a powerful onset, and the tower he had constructed was faulty and too closely ruled by his own mind. Not as well guarded as it should have been. Willy Stampler had been sloppy, and too confident in his own power to realise that Ron Stampler, his worthless failsafe, would be able to simply walk into his last puzzle and confront him.

            Even if he had prepared for that, he certainly never thought that Ron seeing him this way, the monster beneath the lake of his nightmares, would have erased Ron’s fear of him.

            But it did. And when it did, only then did the tower begin to crumble around them, shuttering inward as Willy Stampler’s power turned in on itself and crushed him beneath its weight as it fled his body and entered the world again, back into the hearts of every father, where it should have always beat strong as a pulse. As an innate instinct.

            And yet despite the call back to where it belonged, some of that magic remained behind, because how could it leave such fierce and wonderful examples of fatherhood to be crushed amid a falling tower? It couldn’t. It would stay and perform one big miracle of Daddy Magic for the Daddies that risked it all to save it.

*

            “And that’s why I, Paeden, the heart of Daddy Magic, graciously maintained the power of corporeal manifestation and used my sick new magical skills to teleport you all down here. Uh, you’re welcome.” Paeden grinned at the gathered group of dads and eldritch monsters that had appeared together at the base of the Library’s castle that now lay collapsed in ruins.

            “Geez Paeden! Let me get this straight. So, even with Daddy Magic being back in the world you still get to exist as a kid? How’s that possible?” Henry asked, still clutching a twin in each hand like they could vanish at any moment.

            Paeden shrugged. “I dunno. Daddy Magic finds a way, I guess. Part of me wanted to dissolve this consciousness into the rest of Daddy Magic obviously but, I really wanted to save you guys and it’s hard to direct magic yourself without a consciousness and thoughts. And plus, I dunno, I have my own dad now? Walter the Immoral, you know? So I think I should stay Paeden, so I don’t worry him too much. Plus, this way I can still be badass and fight and stuff!”

            As Paeden tried to demonstrate some subpar martial arts moves, Darryl slowly turned a circle to survey the damage. The castle was gone. The courtyard was in shambles. He thought he saw the Odyssey crushed under a pile of stone.

            He saw the Library, standing to one side with Scam and pointing at baby Mark while hissing something at his cousin. Scam seemed uncharacteristically chastised, and Mark giggled and batted at the Library’s fingers with a pudgy little hand. For some reason this scene made Darryl’s heart warm so much he thought for a moment it could burst.

            “Hey Dad, does this mean we can finally go home?” Grant asked, his voice so very weary. Darryl bit his lip, but he knew the right thing to do, even as a part of him ached.

            “Yeah, son. I think we’re just about done.”

Notes:

PS. To be absolutely clear, the puppets in the illusions were not being controlled by Mark except when his voice was coming out of them. They were sort of feeding off the victim's own fantasies, and Mark in no way directed any puppets to fuck anyone. They were just feeding off a strong emotional connection and... yeah to be VERY clear, Mark was NOT partaking in or attempting to partake in sexual relations with anyone in that section of this chapter.

Chapter 30: Daddies

Summary:

The bad dads defeated, it's time for the Dads to head back home. But what will become of the monstrous friends they made along the way?

Notes:

*thousand yard stare*
... it... I finished it. It's... it's over? How is this possible...? Jesus.

30 Daddies

            With the tower and castle destroyed and Willy Stampler’s power broken, the sky had returned to a stunning blue and a light breeze curled across the fallen stonework. The boys largely seemed tapped out, curled in a knot near the remains of the Odyssey and taking a well-earned nap. Scam was holding Mark (upside down but he didn’t seem to mind) and talking to Glenn who seemed to be getting progressively more annoyed with him. Ron and Henry were hunched over a leaf talking to Erin O’Neil.

            Meanwhile, the Library and Darryl were sitting above them all, the Library having carrying his favourite human up the fallen battlements to stand watch in case of more trouble. At least, that was the excuse he gave for the manhandling and Darryl took it. Though he suspected that the Library was looking for a chance to talk to him alone.

            His suspicions weren’t proved accurate immediately, however. The two of them sat on a wide, mostly level piece of white stone side by side. The Library was holding his hand, turning it over and running his skinny thumb over the meat of his palm, right over the place his eye tended to manifest.

            “Can you feel it when you do that?” Darryl asked after a minute.

            “Hm? Oh, yes. It’s a part of me as well, after all. It would be stranger if I couldn’t feel it, don’t you think?”

            Darryl grunted and pulled his knee up to balance the elbow of his free arm on it. His limbs sure didn’t bend like they did when he was younger. “I still don’t know how to feel about that. But… I guess it’s cool that I’ll be taking some part of you with me back to Earth? … uh, do you think you’ll still be able to control or… or feel it, when I’m in my own dimension or whatever?”

            “No idea! I’ve never tried to branch my flesh network into any neighbouring worlds before!” The Library hummed and drew Darryl’s hand further into his lap, wrapping another long limb around the human’s shoulders “Ah, at least it will be an interesting experiment!”

            Darryl sighed. As much as he knew he’d miss the Library, strange as it felt to admit that to himself, he did also hope that he wouldn’t have to worry about any more eyeballs and alien hand syndrome once he’d crossed over. Henry might’ve thought this experience was cool, but Darryl wasn’t a magic man. He was ready for things to go back to normal. Or well, as normal as they would be once he got home and talked to Carol properly about the divorce. God, he’d have to look for a job. Probably time to start thinking about that. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

            Leaning into the monster’s side, Darryl’s gaze dropped from the horizon to the ruins beneath them. “Uh, not to claim responsibility over it since I really don’t think it can be considered our fault but… sorry about your castle.”

            “Oh, don’t worry about that,” the Library shrugged. Still an impressive feat to witness, coming from so many limbs at once. “I didn’t have one before you crazy fathers stumbled into this world, and the main purpose I found for it was keeping you safe and contained. I’ll just go back to wandering the lands like I did before! Probably for the best anyway, not sure I would have wanted such a stark reminder of you lying around anyway.”

            “Er, really?”

            “I don’t mean it as anything against you personally, Darryl. I know you’re going to leave, and it’s not as though I plan to cast some sort of memory removal spell on myself, but you have to know this is painful for me.”

            Darryl hunched in on himself. “Right. Yeah, I know.”

            “I don’t necessarily want to keep such a large reminder.”

            “Uh huh.”

            “So it’s honestly for the best that this happened! Not a big deal at all!” The Library barked out a laugh that seemed a little contrary to his tone. “W-why would I want something to remember you by lying around? B-best to just forget…”

            Darryl cleared his throat. “You know, uh, I’m just a human. I would die long before you anyway, even if I could stay.”

            “I could have found a way to fix that!”

            “Right…” Darryl sighed again, rubbing at his forehead as he tried to think. Running his fingers back into his thick, shaggy hair, he had an idea. “Hey, do you have a knife or something sharp on you?”

            “Me? No, but I’m sure Paeden does.”

            “Oh, right. YO! PAEDEN!” Darryl called down to Paeden. While the normal boys were sleeping, the special Daddy Magic boy was climbing rocks and running around like he had the energy of a hundred twitter-pated squirrels. Which given the fact he was now connected to a massive source of magic in this world, was likely accurate.

            “YO, DARRYL! MY MAN!” Paeden yelled, waving from across the ruins. “WHAT DO YOU NEED?”

            “GIVE ME YOUR KNIFE!”

            Paeden’s jaw dropped. “SERIOUSLY? I SAVED ALL YOUR ASSES AND YOU’RE STILL GONNA TAKE MY KNIVES AWAY?! I JUST SPAWN MORE! YOU KNOW THAT!”

            “NO, LIKE, I NEED ONE TO USE IT!”

            In the blink of an eye, Paeden leapt across the stones to Darryl’s side, gleefully holding a knife out handle-first toward Darryl. “Why didn’t you say so, my guy? There you go, one Paeden-original knife on the house!”

            “Thanks,” Darryl took the knife and held out the tattered remains of his shirt, cutting off a thin strip of cloth. The Library’s nose wrinkled as he brought it up to his hairline and quickly sawed off a chunk of hair there. “I’m gonna need a trim when I get home anyway so...” He tied the lock of hair with the cloth from his shirt and pressed it into one of the Library’s hands. “There, now you have a piece of me to remember me by. Uh, easier to carry around when you’re travelling, you know.”

            The Library made a snivelling noise and suddenly Darryl was wrapped in the embrace of far too many limbs to count, all crushing him and pulling him firmly into the Library’s lap, pressing him against his thin torso as the monster sobbed all over him. “Um, do you like it?”

            “Do I LIKE it? Darryl it’s a piece of you! I love it!”

            “Urgh, this is getting mushy. Paeden out!” Darryl heard Paeden’s feet shuffling over the rocks for a moment before pausing and then running back. “Oh wait, uh, Mr. Library? Can I talk to my man Darryl for a second?”

            “Oh, right, of course.” The Library sniffled as his limbs uncurled just enough for Darryl to peek between them to see Paeden shuffling excitedly from foot to foot.

            “What do you need, Paeden?” Darryl asked.

            “Me? I don’t need nothin’, I’ll be good as soon as I can get back to Ravenloft and my bullywog dad. But uh, so I’m kind of connected to all Daddy Magic now, right?”

            “Yeah?”

            “So as part of that, I actually kind of have some connection to deceased fathers too! Which is weird cause I can sort of still feel Willy and Barry and Bill and that’s… kind of gross. But uh, anyway, so looks like I can still get messages from dads who’ve passed on, right? So your dad has a message for you!”

            Darryl stared at Paeden, dumbfounded for a second before he pushed himself out of the Library’s arms, ignoring the monster’s distressed sounds as he fended off the limbs. He launched himself at Paeden and knelt in front of the boy, hands fully on his shoulders. “You have a message from my dad? The actual Frank Wilson? How? You can- you can hear him all the way from heaven?”

            Paeden made a non-committal noise. “I mean, I can sort of… sense him from… wherever he is now?”

            “Heaven.”

            “Uh… sure.”

            “Well, what’s he say?”

            “Hm, well, aside from generally saying he’s sorry that he wasn’t able to talk Willy out of his plan and got killed by him again before you even entered Faerun, he also wanted to tell you that uh, if you want to bring your monster boyfriend back to Earth with you without getting a bunch of awkward questions, you should just get him to body swap with someone who would be less conspicuous. Oh, and he loves you and is proud of you and gives his blessing, since he knows you’d worry about that.”

            Darryl blinked, felt a rush of affection for his deceased father, and then flushed bright red. “M-my dad knows about, uh…” he jerked a thumb back in the direction of the Library and Paeden nodded.

            “Looks like it. And for the record, I think it’s pretty good advice. Plenty of ways to do a body swap after all. Sometimes souls swap bodies by accident even.”

            Darryl swallowed. “W-well, uh, can you send a message back to my dad?”

            “I can try?”

            “Okay. Um… t-tell him that I love him too, and… and that I say thanks for… accepting this… weird thing that’s going on. With me. He’s really okay with this?”

            “Well- uh…” Paeden’s eyes grew distant for a moment and then he shook his head as though to clear it. “Right, um, he says he accepted your sister when she came out and you shouldn’t think it’d be any different for you.”

            “I mean… the Library’s not exactly a… you know what? That’s… good. Yeah. Uh, thanks dad. And thanks, Paeden.”

            “Anytime my dude. Well, I’m out, have fun talking about that then I guess.” And with that, Paeden took off back down the pile of rocks again. From the looks of the group, Ron had wandered over to join the knot of sleeping children. Henry was still talking on the leaf. Scam was holding Mark by the feet and swinging him around while he laughed. Glenn was moodily ripping the arms off the suit jacket he had been wearing to turn it into a sort of punk vest.

            “So,” Darryl cleared his throat awkwardly, “What did you think about-?”

            “WAIT! One last thing!” Paeden climbed back up the rocks and waved Darryl’s attention back on himself. “Your dad told me to give you this!” Paeden ran over to Darryl, hugged him tight around the shoulders, and pressed a kiss into the side of his head. Darryl immediately teared up and hugged back, hard.

            “Thanks Paeden… thanks Dad.” Darryl wiped his heads as the boy finally pulled away and ran off for the last time. Darryl turned to the Library, who was staring pensively into the distance.

            Darryl cleared his throat. “S-so, what do you think about what Paeden said?”

            The Library heaved out a breath so deep it may have come from the bottom of his endless stomach. “I’m not sure, Darryl. I’ve been in this body for far longer than you can probably imagine. I’m not like Mark who remakes himself, or Scam who disguises himself. This body is how I’ve interacted with the world since my creation. These limbs, my malleable bone structure, my tongue… hell, I don’t know what I’d actually DO without my pocket dimension stomach? Where would I keep all my books? The body is one thing, but to give up my stores of knowledge to walk blind into an unknown world feels… frightening.”

             “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s a tough one.” Darryl frowned. “Also it uh, seems a bit unfair to take all those books away from Faerun too I guess. Even if it’s dangerous to borrow them, the people here must NEED them if they’re willing to risk their lives.”

            “Hm, well I’m less concerned about that. But I suppose removing so much knowledge from the people here would be a crime. I loathe the idea of simply letting some no account human or elf or dwarf or whatever take on my mantle, and losing all that knowledge myself would be heartbreaking on its own… the books are PART of me, Darryl. I’m sworn to protect them, as I swore to protect you. I can’t just leave them.”

            “Well uh, they’re connected to your body right? So whoever ended up in your body would have to take responsibility for them, then?”

            “I suppose… it’s…” The Library winced, biting at his lip hard enough to puncture the skin there. “I’d have to think about it. And anyway, I hardly know who I’d even body swap with! I couldn’t leave this body to just anyone after all.”

            Darryl could help but nod along in glum agreement. It was a great idea, Darryl thought to his dad, but it just didn’t seem like it was going to work out.

*

            When Henry finished his call with Erin and called everyone to gather around him, the sun was already starting to sink in the sky. He looked around at the gathered group and smiled.

            “Okay so, good news gang! Erin called up her dimensional witch friend, and it looks like going home is going to be pretty easy! We just need to transverse the land all the way back to wherever it was that we came into this world, and the portal should still be there, and we just walk right back through! Isn’t that great?”

            Glenn frowned, his arms firmly crossed over his chest. “Uh, yeah. Quick question, do any of you know where we came into this world from?”

            “Uuuuuh….” Henry looked at the other dads. Darryl shrugged and Ron nervously picked at his nails. “Okay, so, that’s a bit of a snag. But I’m sure we can work it out! We can go to Phandalin where we met the lance, and backtrack from there! I bet I can recognise the rocks and geological formations we passed, we’ll be home in no time!”

            “Well, maybe a bit more than no time,” Darryl frowned, “The Odyssey is gone, and on foot it’ll take a while.”

            “Oh, erm, I don’t know if I want to walk right now,” Ron murmured, rubbing an eye sleepily. “I’m kind of still tired and emotionally compromised after killing my dad. At least I think that’s what happened? I’m a little confused still. Anyway, can someone carry me?”

            “Um, we can take turns if we need to, but I don’t know, we could head out tomorrow so we all get a rest? What do you think, Darryl?” Henry asked, turning as he often did to Darryl for leadership.

            Darryl looked at the kids who still, frankly, looked pretty wiped out (save for Paeden) and Ron, who also looked wiped. Glenn seemed cranky, even Scam seemed to be somewhat withdrawn with the edge of dark circles under his eyes. The Library seemed fine, but ultimately… “Yeah, we should probably set up some kind of camp. Don’t worry, I was in Scouts and so was Grant, so we should be able to make a shelter out of some of the trees and stuff around here!”

            A spark of innocent excitement that Darryl hadn’t felt in quite a while rose in his gut. “The Library can probably help with chopping some trees down for that with his chainsaw tongue thing!”

            “Ah, that’s a bit of a splinter hazard actually but I’m sure I can figure something out.”

            “Right! And while we do that, Henry! You and your kids can go foraging for plants and berries that are edible around here, Ron and Terry Junior can get firewood, and Glenn can see if he can find a stream or something around here to find water. And if any of us find any rabbits or whatever, maybe try to catch it for meat? I mean, Grant was talking about going vegetarian and the Oaks don’t eat meat so we might not need like, a whole deer…”

            “I can hunt something!” Scam cut Darryl off.

            “… oh, uh, okay…” Darryl pressed on, “Great! Okay, let’s make camp! Break!”

*

            “Dad, can you hand me that bit of twine? I need to get this corner together.”

            “Sure thing, son! Library, how’re you doing on the roof?”

            The Library hummed and stretched out his back. When he answered, his tone was more subdued than usual. “Um, I don’t think it’s supposed to bend this way. Are you sure you don’t want to use one of my survivalist guides? I could read it to you…”

            “I remember how to build a camp shelter, don’t worry about it! It looks fine.” Darryl tossed the ball of twine Scam had produced from… somewhere for them to Grant and returned to straightening the branches he has set up against the fallen stone they were using as a wind blockade.

            “If you say so…” the Library sounded dubious and even a little petulant as he spat on a clump of leaves and slapped it on top of the roof where it stuck well enough.

            Grant got the corner tied together and, likely noting that the Library looked distracted, sidled up to his Dad and cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, I know you said we’re not staying here, which is great, but um… does the Library know? You told him, right?”

            “He knows, its fine.”

             Darryl fought back a wince at his own tone. He knew it was too short, and Grant naturally picked up on that immediately. “Um, are you sure? Cause that didn’t sound-”

            “I know, it’s okay, really. The Library knows, and he’s not happy but he understands why we have to go.” Darryl winced. “And it’s not like he could just walk around Earth like he is so… oh, but I’m thinking I might leave him my Nokia so we can call and check in? Better than nothing anyway. And I think he’s immortal so I won’t have to worry about calling and he’s died of old age tomorrow or something.”

            Grant frowned and peeked at the Library, who was still sullenly slapping leaves on their makeshift roof. “Yeah I mean, he’s pretty clearly not human so he’d need a pretty thorough disguise to get him around anywhere. If he had shape shifting powers like Scam it’d be easier, but looks like Scam doesn’t want to follow Glenn to Earth so that didn’t matter for them anyway.”

            “Oh yeah? So what are Scam and Glenn going to do?”

            “They broke up again I think?” Grant didn’t sound certain. “They were shouting at each other again anyway. But like, they had a pretty um, weird relationship anyway? Scam needs to stay and raise Mark, but he doesn’t like kids and Glenn’s got Nick…”

            Darryl nodded. “Yeah, it can be like that. Weird to say it, but I think Glenn and Scam are too much alike to make it work? Plus I mean, Glenn already has Nick smoking weed and doing some other less legal stuff, I don’t want to know what Scam would influence him into...”

            “Yeah.” Grant scratched his arm as Darryl finished lashing the wall he was working on together and shook it to test its sturdiness. “Um, so the Library’s definitely not coming?”

            “… no?”

            “Oh okay. Just um, Paeden said… some stuff about uh, the Library might still be… coming… I dunno, Paeden’s kind of weirder than before so I’m not sure he knows what’s going on anyway?”

             “Ah, um…” Darryl nibbled on his lip as he debated whether to tell Grant what was going on. He was a mature kid, but he shouldn’t be getting too far involved in his dad’s love life. Then again, obviously he was going to be curious and Darryl didn’t want him interrogating Paeden for more information. “So, looks like now that Paeden’s logged into the Daddy Magic network, uh, he sort of contacted your grandpa! And uh, your grandpa, my dad, Frank, apparently suggested that the Library could come with us if he switched bodies with someone?”

            Grant paled. “O-oh. Yeah uh, I guess that… could work? Is… wait so, he’s not doing that I guess? … but your dad is okay with him coming to Earth? What?”

            Darryl paused and dropped his voice lower. It wouldn’t help if the Library was actively trying to listen to them but hopefully he was too busy with the roof to bother. He seemed pretty out of it anyway. “Well we talked about it but doesn’t look like it? He’d have to give up all his monster powers if he traded bodies with a human, and he’d probably lose his books too, and he’s not really into the idea of losing all the knowledge. Um, I think that’s more the issue than the monster stuff but either way it wouldn’t really be fair to insist he give up any of it, right?”

            Grant looked at Darryl for a long time. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “But you want him to, don’t you?”

            “What? No! Well, I mean, I don’t know? It’d be kind of crazy anyway, right? I mean, our whole thing has kind of been based around uh… well, monstrous stuff and… I mean I care about the Library but I don’t know how we’d even work on Earth anyway, you know? Even if he was a human, I’d have to get him registered with the government and stuff… though I guess Henry mentioned he was found in the woods with no identification and he managed to integrate into Californian society but... a-anyway, the Library is great and I lo- I like h- I’d… I’d like it if he could stick around long enough to see if we can make something work but he’s kind of got a whole thing going here? He’s got family, and a job… I don’t know. And like I said, he wouldn’t want to give up his books.”

            Grant huffed out a breath and lowered his head as Darryl turned away, face tinged red as he ensured the opposite wall was as stable as the first. Seemed like it. He could hear the Library still plastering away at the roof, and voices from the ruined courtyard outside indicated at least a couple of the others were heading back to the campsite.

            “Okay well, does the Library know about the Internet?” Grant asked after a minute.

            “Huh? I dunno,” Darryl shrugged, still working on the wall.

            Grant hummed and Darryl heard footsteps as he walked out of the shelter. “Uh, Grant? Aren’t you gonna help with-? Ah I guess it’s fine. Nearly done.” The walls were as good as they were going to get and by the lack of light coming through the branches on the ceiling it seemed like the Library was done, too. “Just need to get the Library to sand down some of the wood from the collapsed stables and we’ll have a floor.”

            But when Darryl came out of the shelter, he couldn’t spot the Library or Grant. Well, who knew where the Library wandered off too, but Grant probably just had to take a leak. He did spy Henry, Lark and Sparrow organizing a pile of berries, nuts and mushrooms though, so he decided to go help them out instead.

*

            By the time the sun was setting, the dads, sons, and eldritch beings had managed to put together a pretty functional campsite. The Library and Grant had reappeared not long after Glenn and Nick returned with a pair of makeshift buckets with water to boil, and Ron and Terry Junior managed to hack apart some decent sized pieces of wood from the collapsed courtyard buildings and put together the start of a bonfire, lit by a quick spell from Henry.

            Scam came back a while after the fire was lit with Mark strapped to his back and dragging an entire dead deer behind him, which was met by gasps of horror from the boys (save Lark and Paeden) and Henry and Ron. Horror aside though, Darryl was delighted to have a big piece of meat to carve up. He didn’t love hunting, but butchering and cooking were his jam and before the moon had fully risen overhead everyone was chowing down on Henry’s selection of forged goods and a big ol’ deer steak (if they chose to take one). He didn’t have much for seasoning, but the berries and mushrooms helped a lot and it turned out quite nicely.

            He’d even pulled the Library aside and asked if he wanted any of ‘Darryl’s Special Steak’, a question asked with wiggling eyebrows. The monster had snorted loudly but assured Darryl that he wasn’t hungry at the moment. The quick kiss they shared wasn’t a lot of reassurance, but Darryl returned to his cooking with only a small amount of disappointment, which he hoped was just because of the lack of the blow job he usually got when the Library ate part of him. It might have been true. He wasn’t sure.

            It was nice. The food was filling, and even though Glenn’s guitar was long gone the bard dad still pulled the kids into singing some raunchy campfire songs with only mild pushback from Henry.

            Darryl didn’t notice that Grant had gone missing again until he was already taking his seat next to him. His son had really gotten too good at slipping away, Darryl might have to put a lock on his window when they got back to Earth. Not that Darryl had been counting the group or anything, anyone else might’ve left at any time and come back and Darryl probably would have been none the wiser.

            Slowly but surely, first the sons (and Ron) turned in to the shelter to sleep. Then Henry’s head began to droop until Darryl insisted he head off to bed as well. Glenn ran a hand through his hair and he and Scam exchanged an odd look and a quick fist bump before Glenn also announced he was going to take a leak and pass out.

            Mark was snoozing on the ground by the fire, but Scam made no move to bring him into the shelter. “May as well just stay out here, more room for you fragile sleeping humans! If any of you kicked him in your sleep he might bite a limb off, and we don’t need any more of that, hmm?” Scam laughed as the Library sucked in a sharp breath, bringing Darryl’s attention back to him. Especially so as the Library took up one of his hands in his own.

            “Darryl.”

            “Um, yeah?” Darryl blinked owlishly as the Library leaned in toward him and pressed their lips together. There was the barely hint of a sharp tongue that slashed along his lip, and he groaned in time to the Library’s deep moan of approval. He pulled back as the Library winked at him.

            “I know, no tongue, right? Couldn’t quite resist.” He swallowed, suddenly appearing a bit sheepish. “I suppose if I didn’t have this kind of tongue you wouldn’t mind me tasting you as much, hm?” As he spoke, a limb reached out and ran over the short patch in Darryl’s hair where he’d cut a lock from. Darryl felt his cheeks heat up.

            “W-were you thinking about what Paeden said? Because I- it’s your call. Um, if you want to come to Earth I wouldn’t uh, try to stop you… if you did the uh… the thi-” Darryl was cut off as the Library captured his lips again, this time grabbing Darryl properly to pull him across his lap. Darryl relaxed into the familiar position, moulding his body against the Library as the monster left his lips and began trailing unchaste kissing down his chin to his neck. “U-um, Scam’s still here?”

            “Oh, don’t mind me! It’s nice to see my stuck up cousin loosening up for once!”

            The Library grimaced against Darryl’s skin. “Perhaps you’d like to get out of here?”

            “Yeah uh, one more time couldn’t hurt, right?” Darryl paused. “You’re not hungry again, are you?”

            The Library made a strangled sort of noise. “Nope! I’m good! I swear, I won’t be swallowing you again!”

            Darryl nodded slowly, turning the idea over in his head and making a face. “Yeah uh, not sure I’d be eager for that after last time. Kind of a turn off now”

            “Right…”                 

            Darryl swallowed and in a moment of daring rolled his hips against the Library, smirking a little as his monster gasped. “Don’t seem have any trauma about this, though.”

            “Right!” The Library grinned and then seized Darryl and stood up so quickly that he yelped in surprise. “Let’s take it for one more spin then, hm?”

            “Uh, okay, well-” Darryl yelled as the Library ran off with his human trapped in his arms, presumably to ravish him a safe distance away while Scam wolf whistled behind them.

*

            Darryl woke the next day with Henry curled under one arm, his head pillowed on half of Grant’s stomach as he slept horizontally above him, and Paeden snoring upside down along his other side with his feet right under Darryl’s nose. By the dim light coming in from the shelter’s entrance it was still early, so it took Darryl a minute to realize why he had come into consciousness at all. He’d been sleeping pretty heavily before, well worn out by the night’s activities before the Library had tucked him into the shelter and gone back to Scam and the slowly dying fire.

            Then another light tremor shook the ground and a rush of wind blew over the shelter, rattling the walls again. That’s what it was. The wind came returned, this time seemingly from another angle as it fed straight in through the open entrance and disturbed the humans’ hair and clothes. It was an oddly hot wind, and as it came once more the other sleepers began to stir.

            Then a giant, golden eye surrounded by scales came into view of the door.

            “AH!” Darryl shrieked, and there was a brief pandemonium as he scrambled to his feet, hitting both Henry and Paeden who started a chain reaction where all the men and boys were quickly awake and screaming and readying weapons and spells even as the giant eye drew back far enough to reveal the enormous head of a giant yellow dragon.

            “Wait! Don’t shoot!” Scam’s voice rang over the commotion as he stumbled into view in front of the dragon. “I didn’t feel like walking so I called in a favour! Remember the dragon from Ravenloft? The one we freed him from Willy Stampler! Basically. Anyway, he said he’d help fly everyone back to the portal!”

            “Dwagon!” Mark giggled from his place strapped to Scam’s back, clapping his hands and looking much like a chubby 1-year-old.

            Once the dragon was cleared of being a threat, there was plenty of excitement from the boys at the idea of riding it back to where this whole mess started (providing they could find it but, well, Henry was right that it couldn’t be TOO far from Phandalin). It didn’t take long to pack up the gear they would be bringing with them and they climbed aboard the behemoth sized beast without much other fanfare.

            The flight was long, and a bit chilly with the wind, but the views were amazing and Paeden only nearly fell off the back twice and Ron once, so it went much better than one might expect. It left Darryl feeling a little on edge, waiting for something else to go wrong to leave them trapped in this world a bit longer.

            But nothing of the sort happened. They made a pit stop in Rocqueporte to return Paeden, which was emotionally taxing but nice. The parting was full of hugs and tears, and Darryl was about to suggest they stay until Walter returned when by coincidence the bullywog had rolled into town with weary, teary eyes in what looked like a steam-punk style self-powered wheelchair. His face lifted instantly upon seeing Paeden who rushed him and enveloped him in hug, demanding to know what had happened to put his father in such a state.

The group had stayed long enough for Walter to chew them out for kidnapping his son, but finally relented after Paeden explained their tale of bad Dads and good Dads and Daddy Magic, and how Paeden was ready to let Walter be the One True Father to Daddy Magic incarnate. That might have been a little much for Walter to take, as even when the dads made their final goodbye the bullywog was still mumbling to himself in stress. Not much to be done for that, though. Paeden, at least, seemed bright eyed and optimistic about the future.

The dragon made it to Phandalin, they had taken a bathroom break, and then Henry was able to guide them back to the spot where the portal had once been. There had been some kind of orc creatures there, but they cleared off fast at the sight of a dragon, so soon enough the group was standing in the clearing while Henry dialled up Erin on another leaf. While he was busy, Darryl tried to motion for the Library to come talk to him alone, but was shocked when the monster shook his head and wouldn’t even look at him properly. Was he mad? This isn’t how Darryl wanted this thing they had to end, but he had at least wanted to give him his Nokia, what if the monster didn’t even want it now?

            “Honestly I’m glad you guys are getting home but also I’m weirdly going to miss you? If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be leading this carnivorous mercenary army now and I wouldn’t have driven off nearly as many people to create this all vegetation nature preserve!”

            The dads made various noises to show they were not entirely sure they approved of Erin’s eco-terrorism but also intended to let it slide because, frankly, their quest was long over and it was time to let the inhabitants of this world deal with whatever problems they left them with. Like a natural disaster, they would leave Faerun as mysteriously as they came, with carnage in their wake. At least they wouldn’t be messing up anything else.

            They brought Daddy Magic back to the world at least, so that was good? Anyway, it was mostly Willy’s fault for forcing them all to come there in the first place.

            Regardless, the time had come. As per Erin’s instruction, Henry chanted a quick spell that caused the hitherto invisible portal to flash a deep purple and green. With it revealed, it would be no trouble to head through. The nightmare was almost over.

            “Um, well, goodbye then,” Ron said politely to Scam, Mark (now standing on his own though on unsteady legs) and the Library before walking straight through the portal without a backwards glance.

            “Wait, we should check if it’s safe!” Darryl called, but it was too late. Ron was gone.

            “Er, I’m sure he’s fine!” Henry laughed awkwardly. “Erin DID say we just walk on through after all? Um… who wants to go next?”

            Then Ron’s head popped back through the gate. “Oh, hello everyone. I just remembered that time passes differently on Earth and I just wanted to make sure you all hadn’t turned into grandpas while I was gone. Terry Junior, you’re coming, right?”

            “Er, yeah Dad, sure,” Terry Junior took Ron’s offered hand and let himself be pulled out of the Forgotten Realms. The Stamplers were safe.

            “Well, good to know! Alright boys, I want you both to hold my hands while we go through the portal, or else we’re going to have to do a bunch of boring chores when we get home and I won’t be able to tell your mom what good boys you were in the Forgotten Realms!”

            “Aw, yes Father we understand…” Lark sighed, taking up Henry’s left hand while his brother took Henry’s right.

            Henry flashed at grin at Darryl. “See you on the other side, and you know, I think everything between you and the Library will be JUST fine! Wink!”

            “Uh, why are you winking?” Darryl asked as Glenn cleared his throat loudly and Grant shook his head frantically behind Darryl’s back. Henry swallowed audibly.

            “Um, no reason! Let’s go boys!” Henry yelled as he dragged the twins through the portal. The Oak-Garcias were safe.

            Glenn turned to the Library. “Well, um… things got weird around here but uh, you know, sometimes things just don’t work out you know? And I think that’s okay, you know? You’ll find someone new.”

            “Thank you for the vote of confidence! Just make sure you look out for my cousin on the other side there, he can more of a handful than you’d think,” the Library quirked an eyebrow as Darryl’s eyebrows shot up.

            “What? Glenn, is Scam coming with us? I thought you guys broke up!”

            Glenn shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets while Nick grabbed his sleeve. “Yeah, well, things get messy, you know how it is. Anyway, the Closes will see you on the other side, you know?” Glenn said he walked toward the portal with Nick. Scam smiled, handed Mark off to the Library and gave both his cousin and brother a kiss on the head.

            “You’ll take care of him this time, right?” Scam looked uncharacteristically serious as the Library rolled his eyes with a smile.

            “Absolutely. It’ll be nice to have an expert taking care of the kids’ books for a while I think!”

            Shaking his head, Scam shot Darryl a smile and a wink and followed close behind Glenn and Nick, looking back with a mischievous grin as they slipped through the portal. The Closes were safe.

            Darryl held Grant’s hand tightly, feeling himself sweat as he looked at the Library while the monster cradled Mark in his arms.

            “Well, what’re you waiting for? You’d best get going! Shoo!” The Library gestured with several limbs for the portal.

            “Come with us!” Darryl spat out without thinking. The monster blinked with wide eyes as Grant’s hand tightened on his own.

            “Uh, Dad, he can’t-”

            “I know it’s crazy but, like, it can’t be that bad! If magic was able to make a portal into our world, some kind of magic must exist there, right? And if magic exists, then why shouldn’t people accept the Library just being himself? So he looks and acts a bit weird and has to eat flesh to survive? We can find a way to make that work! We can-”

            “Darryl, I’m not going to Earth” The Library had the nerve to look amused and Darryl felt his insides boil. “I have duties here, my own and now my cousin’s as well. Not to mention Mark needs a caretaker so he doesn’t go nuts and start allying with evil fathers again.”

            “So bring him too! I don’t care if Mark’s there, we can-”

            “Dad, seriously, this isn’t so bad-”

            “Grant, I know you don’t like the Library but he’s been really nice mostly, actually, and helped us out a ton, and I don’t want to lose him! I have to go back to Earth, and your mom’s going to leave, and you’ll be gone to her place a lot of the time, or at school, and I-I have to get a job and it’s… I liked having… him…” Darryl swallowed. “I feel safe with him. I l-love him, I think? I-“ Darryl looked up at the Library with watery eyes. “I love you, so please, come with me?”

             The Library stared at Darryl. Then he ran a hand down his face, his shoulders shaking. It took a second for Darryl to realise the breathy sounds weren’t sobs but breathless giggles. That just made him angry.

            “Hey! Are you seriously laughing at me right now?! After everything?! I just poured my heart out, and you throw it back in my face? Fine, fuck you! I can be on my own, I don’t need you at all!” Darryl shut his mouth, swallowed again, and opened his mouth to rant some more but a wordless sob came out. He slapped his hand over his mouth to cover it but the Library only looked more amused which made him want to cry more.

            Grant groaned. “Oh my god… okay, dad, no that’s not… that’s not the Library.”

            “What are you talking about?! Of course that’s the Library! It’s not like anyone else could look like him! Well, except Scam, maybe but…” Darryl froze, gaze tracking up the Library’s body to his face which was, now that he was paying more attention, holding an expression he’d never really seen on the Library’s face before. “What… Scam?!”

            “HA! Fallen for a classic scam!” The Library laughed, his intonation all wrong. “Ah, I’ll have to savour this, seeing as I won’t be able to play my old switcharoo schemes as easily anymore. That’s fine, with my scam-aligned mind in a more powerful body like this, I’m sure the whole of Faerun will be at the mercy of my japes before long!”

            Darryl stared at the Library… no, he looked at Scam Likely completely dumbfounded. When he finally found words he slowly pieced what that meant together. “Wait so… so that means you and Sc- and the Library you… switched bodies?”

            “Uh huh.”

            “So the Library…”

            “Is waiting on the other side for you! He’s most likely disguised himself as something other than Glenn’s twin though, so toss up if you’ll recognise him right away. He might just look like a human version of himself, he might not. His call now, after all. Might experiment. Well, you might know him by the lovestruck simp look on his face when he sees you, but whatever.”

            “But that doesn’t make sense!” Darryl looked down at Grant. “He said he didn’t want to change bodies!”

            “It was my idea,” Grant shrugged, though his face had turned pink and he was looking away. “I told him about the Internet and how he could have a world’s worth of knowledge in a cell phone, explained what that is. Then I said if he switched bodies with Scam he could still make himself monster arms at will presuming the shapeshifting still works on Earth, so he doesn’t have to be human full time. Scam agreed to do it, Glenn said he’d help keep you distracted so you wouldn’t see them switching, and Henry overheard us talking about it but swore to keep it a secret.”

“A secret? Why a secret? Why didn’t you tell me?!” Darryl gasped and Grant snorted.

            “We wanted to surprise you? You always say you love surprises.”

            Darryl stared at his son, his wonderful selfless son as hope welled in his chest so hard that tears streamed down his face. He grabbed Grant into a bear hug and swung him around as he yelped. “Ha! You’re right Grant, I do love surprises, and this is the best one ever!” Darryl sent Scam a winning smile. “Smell you later, I’m gonna go hang out with my boyfriend!”

            Grant laughed wearily into Darryl’s shoulder as he was carried like a sack of potatoes through the portal without struggle.

           The man standing with the dads on the other side of the portal was less gaunt, and shorter than Darryl would have recognised the Library as being. He wore fewer limbs and a more naturally human smile. But that particular perk and tilt of his head, and the crinkling of his eyes when he caught sight of Darryl were unmistakeable.

            Darryl ran past Henry, Ron, Glenn and their boys, and football tackled the Library in a hug so fierce and powerful it knocked him to the ground in a tangle beneath Darryl and Grant’s bodies. He laughed and squirmed and pulled Darryl into a deep kiss just as Grant managed to untwist from the pile and escape. For once the tracing of tongue was not accompanied by the taste of Darryl’s own blood.

            The Wilsons, finally, were safe.

            Darryl pulled back from the kiss to find the Library’s chest heaving for breath beneath him. It was a satisfying sight, and Darryl smirked down at him. “So how did that taste?”

            The Library grinned, wide and sharp as he licked his red, kiss-swollen lips. “Mm, as always, delectable.”

Notes:

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS TAKEN THIS JOURNEY WITH ME!

Special thanks to Jackson for commenting on I believe every chapter from the beginning? How do you have the stamina, you are literally the reason I stayed motivated, so endless thanks to you.

To everyone else who even just commented once, I treasure every letter of your praise. You made me smile through writing this monster of a monster fic. Still can't believe this is the longest dndads fic there is so far! I hope someone breaks this record someday. I don't think this fic was always top quality, but hell yeah it was top quantity so at least I should get a prize for that, I think.

I don't have anything else to say except that this is probably the last writing I'm going to do for dndads in the near future unless I decide to continue my Willy Stampler x Bill Close crack musical fic? So if I don't see yall again, um, stay sexy gang. ;D