Palamedes sits in the Barton University library surrounded by a veritable fortress of books when the text comes in. On the whole, he has come to like his phone, appreciating the practicality of instantaneous communication and the unexpected way it can build familiarity. But sometimes, he thinks that he should really leave it at home so that his research cannot be so easily interrupted.

He sighs when he sees Gideon’s name, expecting some joke or half-serious accusation about how he spends his time. But the message is something altogether different.

SHE’S HERE. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out who Gideon means, though Pal does happen to be one. SHE’S BLEEDING. He’s out of his seat in an instant; frankly, it would take a hell of a lot of blood to send Gideon into a panic. Palamedes leaves all his books behind, knowing they will be re-shelved, knowing that he will probably get glares from the library staff next time he visits. But he just doesn’t have the time.

coming, he shoots back, swinging his messenger back over his shoulder and hurrying out of the library. at barton. waiting for bus. he adds a few minutes later, having, for once, entirely abandoned the usual formality of his texts.

Palamedes all but leaps off the bus at his stop and races to Gideon’s apartment, where he raps hurriedly on the door.