Work Text:
It had always been impossible for Flynn to sit still for a prolonged period of time without some sort of… incentive. He remembered being a child and his mother's attention snapping onto him when he went too still. For years, he'd been convinced that she could read minds because she would always give him that knowing look and tell him to "put that thought on the curb." He'd thought that she was stifling his greatness but, looking back as an adult, those thoughts were curb worthy. He couldn't think of one that wouldn't have led to serious property damage or injury. Either way, financial hardship that they couldn't afford.
Regardless, he was always moving, especially as the Librarian. He ran through temples, tapped his fingers to his chin or his eyes darted between objects of interests when pacing wasn't an option. He'd been told all of his life that even in his sleep, he was unable to be still. His grandmother had affectionately called him a "rotisserie sleeper" and Eve had gotten a separate blanket after that first night they'd shared a bed.
In this circumstance, however, he could find no good reason to move.
Hidden away in a closet with his hand clutching a broom while his mind raced a mile a minute to try and explain the sheer and utter chaos that was happening on the other side of the door.
He'd been told, more times than he cared to count, that he asked too many questions. This one time, he hadn't asked enough.
This new development certainly explained the flowers littering the Annex for the past six months. It certainly explained it better than the generic answer that he'd received before they had to run to Mongolia to close a major ley line.
"They're for Ezekiel," Eve had said.
For six months, Flynn had kept a close eye on the young thief for signs of grief or depression, but there had been no overt changes that he could see. There wasn't a decrease in appetite or sociability and not a particular delight in seeing the flowers at every turn. Still, if it helped Jones, Flynn would take allergy medicine when entering the west wing and power through.
The real reason that the flowers were so abundant was so… out of the ordinary that Flynn, who hadn't been surprised by magic often past his first few years at the Library, was completely and utterly bamboozled.
The day, of course, started as any other when they had a weekend. There were no emergency threats, no prophecies to survive or any of the other magical mayhem that made up most of their days. It was a day to relax properly and pursue their own interests.
Last he'd checked, Eve had tucked herself away for a nap, determined to catch up on the sleep that she'd lost the previous week. She had been firm that no one was to wake her short of food or an emergency and had promptly thrown herself into a cozy room that they had designated the Nap Room. It was one that was used liberally by nearly the entire team when missions could not be put on hold for long.
He believed Stone was going through the schematics for the pyramids in South America and Africa to deepen his knowledge of magical architecture. Then again, he could have finished that and moved onto any number of topics with how many projects he juggled at once. Not that Flynn could judge, but he could note it just the same.
Cassandra and Jones had decided on a movie day where they gathered all of the unhealthy snacks and went through some of the niche movies in the Library's collection. Having seen some of these movies himself and knowing them as he did, Flynn had thought that they were in for a combination of laughter and confusion.
As for Jenkins… He actually had no clue as to what Jenkins was getting up to. He'd only seen the man in passing and the Caretaker had been carrying a lighter and maracas. No matter how he racked his brain, he couldn't think of a mundane or magical purpose for those specific items and simply chose to mind his business since he'd never seen Jenkins' experiments go destructively awry.
As for himself, Flynn had chosen to spend most of his day visiting as many of the animals that he could to let his mind rest. Focusing on their care and playing with them had always managed to slow his mind down into a comfortable lull. The wolves had run him ragged, the baku had given him a nice rest and the goats had been so adorable that he was unwilling to move when one of the babies had fallen asleep in his lap.
Overall, he'd say that it was a good day by the time lunch rolled around.
He stopped by the Nap Room and readjusted course to the kitchen when he saw that it was unoccupied. He wasn't at all surprised to see everyone in the kitchen eating or drinking tea. He wouldn't have been surprised if Jenkins had been the one to round everyone up what with his grumpy mother-hen tendencies.
"Oh, good," Eve said with a pleased smile as Flynn entered. "I don't have to hunt you down."
He rolled his eyes as he kissed her cheek. "You don't always have to remind me to eat."
"Keep telling yourself that."
Rather than try to defend himself, he let out an amused huff. It wasn't as if he exactly had a defense what with how often he'd been dragged away from projects.
He grabbed a Cola from the fridge and turned back around to get himself a slice of pizza eagerly. His finger had no more than scooted under the crust of his chosen slice before all hell seemed to break loose.
Jones, from his place at the table, turned his head to the size and sneezed, but before so much as a "bless" could leave anyone's lips, he'd burst into a large cloud of bees that quickly scattered from their source.
Flynn dropped his can of soda with an alarmed, "Jones!"
Through the swam, he saw Cassandra roll her eyes and cover her mouth and nose instantly as she yelled, "Really, Ezekiel?! At lunch?!"
Stone yanked his sleeves down and ran out, shouting over his shoulder, "If you sting me, I'm kicking your ass when you turn back!"
Given Stone's bee allergy, he didn't blame the former oil rigger for running out like a hellhound was chasing him. That was the most understandable reaction in the room because everyone else was far from panicking. In fact, they seemed to be more exasperated than anything.
"Go get in the closet," Eve said, pushing him by the shoulders towards the broom closet.
"What's happening? Is he okay?" Flynn demanded with a justifiable panic.
"He's fine. Just go into the—" She opened the door and pushed him safely inside. "There you go."
There were questions that he should have asked. If he had then, maybe, he would have been as unfazed by the whole incident as the rest of the team. Instead, he was left reacting like any reasonable human being would in the face of a person they knew turning into a swarm of bees.
Beyond the door, he could hear chairs scraping on the floor, annoyed shouts at Ezekiel and the incessant buzzing of bees. It was all that he could hear for what felt like hours but what was likely only thirty minute. And then it went quiet and he was left to wonder if the whole thing moved to another part of the Annex.
He wasn't left questioning for long, because the door was soon opened by a beekeeper. Judging by the height, he'd say it was Cassandra.
"He's back to normal," she said chipperly as she took off her helmet and shook her hair out of her face.
Flynn slowly released the broom, more than a little overwhelmed and entirely baffled, and exited with his eyes sweeping the area. Ezekiel was sitting at the table like nothing had happened, Jenkins was… stuffing a bee into Ezekiel's ear? And Eve was pulling off her beekeeper's suit in the corner.
"What the hell was that?" He finally managed.
Cassandra's face scrunched up with confusion. "Ezekiel just turns into a swarm of bees sometimes."
He put his hands on his hips. "Why didn't anyone tell me about it?"
Jenkins's narrow-eyed gaze snapped over to Eve. "I thought you told him."
"I could've sworn I did," was her bewildered answer.
Flynn narrowed his eyes. "I would've remember being told that Jones… animorphs? Transforms? Transforms into a cloud of bees. That's very memorable piece of information."
"It's not a big deal," Jones said. "Neither is waking up either."
Flynn frowned and looked closer at Jones. "What about waking up?"
Suddenly a hand grabbed him and turned him around. He stared at Judson, a little bewildered but unsurprised. He always popped up on missions in weird ways.
"Flynn, you have to wake up," the man said forcefully. "Wake up! Wake up!"
He inhaled sharply and shot upright, eyes darting around in hopes of getting his bearings. The world spun briefly, but he managed sort through two very important aspects: it was very bright and there was dark wood against the white walls. It was safe to assume that he was in the Annex's infirmary.
"What happened?" He slurred as he registered familiar hands caressing his cheeks.
Did he almost die? His body was covered in a cold sweat and his head was pounding and the stronger hands on his shoulders keeping him upright left him to believe he almost did. It felt like a safe bet when the world stopped spinning and he saw the insurmountable relief in Eve's eyes.
"Here, let me—" Jenkins said softly, pulling Flynn upright against the headboard. "You were shot with an arrow dipped with a strong magical hallucinogenic paralytic."
"It took two days to get bleed the magic out of you," Eve elaborated before her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "You kept saying something about no one taking you to Bangladesh and… bees?"
Flynn's eyes flickered to Jones automatically at the latter statement, though he had no idea where the former came from. "Weird dream."
Jones frowned for a second before grinning like Cheshire the Cat. "Did you dream of me?"
"You were there," Flynn reluctantly admitted as relief began to settle into his bones and left him chuckling quietly.
"How weird of a dream?" Stone asked curiously.
"Nightmarish."
Thankfully, in the waking world, he didn't have to deal with a Librarian that turned into bees.
"Are you feeling better?" Cassandra asked.
He rubbed his eyes and blinked the stars from them. "Hm? Oh, I'm taking a vacation."
Because, clearly, he needed one.