Marcellus hasn't listened to Benedict play guitar. Actually, before any of this, he hadn't listened to Benedict speak. Sure, it happened in staff meetings or when they patrolled together on homecoming, but Marcellus wouldn't have been able to remember what Benedict's voice sounded like if someone asked.

However, on their break, Benedict says he's going to play guitar in his lounge. Marcellus listens. He shows up at the lounge on the west wing of the fifth floor with his won guitar, and Benedict lets him inside.

Jerry is already there, with three buckets. Two are clearly university property, one being the room's garbage bin turned upside-down, and the other being the missing mop bucket from storage. The third is white. Marcellus doesn't know where it's from.

"Do you know Hotel California?" Benedict asks.

Marcellus unloads his guitar from its case, nodding, "yeah. Who doesn't?"

"I can do the background part," Benedict offers, grimacing.

He prefers more complex melodies since his fingers move fast, but most people don't learn the background chords to a song like Hotel California. Besides, Marcellus has a baritone voice that will make the notes hard, and singing and playing complex melodies isn't the easiest thing in the world, especially not when you are cold and tired.

The snow has picked up again. The lounges, with their wide windows, are actually freezing.

"I'll count us in," Jerry grins.

He spins one of his drumsticks in his hand and then counts them in.

Marcellus starts the song since it begins with an extended guitar solo. He has played the melody so many times that he can't imagine how he could ever screw it up. Actually, it's practically muscle memory.

Benedict doesn't usually play in front of people. At least he will be coming in a second after the drums, so there won't be time to focus on his playing. Singing makes him nervous, but really, it could be worse. It's just Jerry and Marcellus anyway. If it were Ro, he couldn't do it.

Jerry comes in on his buckets. Benedict strums the guitar, and right when he opens his mouth to sing, he hears Jerry start singing. Both Benedict and Marcellus exchange a glance.

He's good. Actually, Jerry can sing. His voice is typically grainy, and uneven in tone. It sounds full now. Marcellus chuckles, and when Jerry hesitates, he nods for Jerry to continue.

The song continues on, the three of them jamming together. It's not that bad. Not even half bad for a first rehearsal. When the song ends, the three exchange high fives. Jerry is surprised they even offer him some. All he did was sing.

"You've been hiding those pipes this whole time?" Marcellus asks, shaking his head.

Jerry shrugs, "guess so."

Marcellus rolls his eyes and Benedict actually laughs.

"Should we keep going?" Benedict asks. "I know some classic rock, but I'm more into indie stuff. I know I Can See Clearly Now."

Marcellus snorts, "snow's not gone though."

Actually though, Marcellus loves that song. He thinks no one would ever guess it, since he seems like something between a frat boy and a geek, but it might be his favourite.

Jerry shrugs, "I wouldn't mind. I've got a better idea though."

~~~

Moonie doesn't realize she is playing tag. She has gone up to Darlington's room twice and knocked, before retreating to her room. On the third time, she catches him in the elevator, unaware he was searching for her as well.

"Hey," she manages blinking up at him.

"Hey," he manages as well.

She steps off the elevator onto his floor. No one else lives here since Darlington took over when Louie was fired earlier. The kid was on probation before training was over, and people don't usually stay on probation for long.

Moonie is impulsive. She isn't like the men in movies who do grand romantic gestures that take planning. She is more of a run-to-the-airport-and-declare-your-love kind of person. Now that she is here with him, she has little idea of what to say.

Unlike her Darlington, is good at rehearsing.

"Did..." he sighs, "please tell me we used protection."

"What?" Moonie practically screams.

Darlington flinches, "did... did we not have sex?"

"No!" Moonie steps back.

Her shoulders press into the closed elevator doors. She has to crane her neck to look up at him. She's four feet and eleven and a half inches tall. The half-inch is important. Darlington is over six feet tall and imposing. He must notice it too, because he takes a large step back, a step almost as big as she is.

"No," she finally manages. "We didn't... don't you remember?"

He shakes his head, "I don't... I don't usually drink that much."

"We just made out a bit," Moonie says. "Like, nothing off more than shirts. You drank another few shots in your room. You ran to the bathroom to puke. I helped you to bed. You were really sweaty but seemed fine. I know we aren't supposed to leave people that drunk, but I was also really drunk, and I had been crying and-"

"You were crying?" Darlington asks, looking over her.

She flinches again, "wait. You really don't remember? Where did you blackout?"

"During flip cup, I think," Darlington says. "Listen, if I made you cry I'm so sorry. Being drunk isn't an excuse for what I did, but I don't even remember what-"

Moonie puts up a hand to him. He stops talking.

He doesn't remember. He doesn't remember kissing her in the bathroom, or how they took their shirts off in the elevator before they even made it to his floor, or drinking and then puking and then being put to bed. It was all under ten minutes. He remembers none of them. Being drunk wouldn't be an excuse for being a creep if that's what he did. He was blackout though.

No, being drunk isn't an excuse for what Moonie did. She hasn't realized he was that out of it. If she had, she wouldn't have ever, right? Even because she was upset that Maverick seemed close to Galilee? She wouldn't do something like that?

Then again, she ignored Maverick all of yesterday to avoid her evil rubbing off on him. She should have known it would have already done something to Darlington. She may be so much smaller than him, but she feels so much bigger in this moment.

"Hey, I'm so sorry," Darlington says when he sees her wet eyes.

"No," Moonie mashes the elevator's buttons, trying to escape. "You don't get to apologize."

"Listen, I get really flirty when I drink. I would never intentionally hurt you."

"You weren't sober enough to consent," Moonie says.

Darlington flinches. He hadn't considered that. Nearly three years in his job, consoling two different girls in situations where they were like him, and he wouldn't have ever considered it. Moonie is technically right, but there is a context she is missing.

The elevator opens and she steps inside. The doors always take forever to close. It moves up and down fast, but it takes forever to just open or shut the door.

"I would've done it sober," he says, even if it isn't exactly right. He wouldn't have done it because she was a co-worker, but he would have done it because she was Moonie. "Miana, I think you're great. Just... I never made a move because we are coworkers, and Mav is obviously in love with you."

Moonie's eyes widen as the elevator doors manage to shut. Maybe they don't take forever to close. Maybe they are just timed to close at the worst moment.

~~~

There is something in Elodie that doesn't want to be alone. She lingers in the lounge, hoping someone will come stop by before the meeting at noon. It's fine, she tells herself. Everybody is like her. People just aren't that invested in other people. Lots of people are forgetful. It isn't selfish.

Elodie writes essays well enough, but sometimes she doesn't even believe her own thesis.

However, Ro shows up soon enough. She wanted to sneak around to check the Rube Goldberg machine Marcellus had mentioned the previous night. She's taking a course in mechanical engineering, and even if she is more interested in computer engineering, she's still curious.

She looks over it, barely catching glimpses of Elodie. She should talk to her. Ro is too much in her head to start a conversation. It's stupid since Elodie is kind of indifferent, but her conversation with Moonie yesterday and their progressing argument makes her feel exposed in ways that Ro doesn't love. She thinks about the experiment they also did in physics, where they threw eggs over the side of buildings. Even though she wasn't in mechanical engineering, her contraption protected the egg the best. In the end, it still cracked.

"Gallie and Marcellus were being total assholes earlier," Elodie offers.

Ro shrugs her shoulders, "yeah, but Marcellus is usually an asshole."

"Moonie's in a mood," Elodie affirms. She knows things. She isn't distant, like Maverick said. "I think Moonie is having a fight with Maverick."

"Yeah, probably," Ro agrees. She was often excluded from the things other girls did as children. Ro wasn't invited to sleepovers, she wasn't invited to birthday parties if there weren't boys coming. While she isn't big on gossip, she thinks it's something she is supposed to do. "Marcellus is on probation too, so he's also in a mood."

"Really?" Elodie asks.

Marcellus is just as good of an RA as she is, which is to say, not very good at all. Still, probation is scary territory. If she lost her job, she'd lose the entire semester since she'd have nowhere to live and be forced to move home. Her brother has already done so much for her, and she can't imagine disappointing him by giving him an additional mouth to feed.

"Yeah," Ro says. She furrows her brow. "Darlington seems in a better mood though, as of last night. He's a bit more bitter than usual."

"Maybe it's because the super's out of reach," Elodie laughs, trying not to swallow.

Maybe it's because out of all places he could be trapped, they are trapped together.

"Ro." Elodie stops. Not even a hesitation but a full stop in her speech. The question she wants to ask is perhaps too humiliating to even begin.

Then, Ro looks away from the Rube Goldberg machine. She plans her hands on her hips, looking at Elodie, "yeah?"

"Do you..." Elodie isn't sure how to make this make sense. "Am I distant? With people, I mean?"

Ro shrugs, "maybe? I don't pay that much attention."

Slowly, Elodie starts to think maybe she doesn't either.

~~~

"Did you apply to Hawkwood?" Galilee asks.

Callie flips the front of her notepad shut. She wasn't expecting to see Galilee in the study room. Really, Callie hadn't anticipated seeing anyone. Perhaps she should have gone up to her dorm room to avoid interacting with any of the others. Unfortunately, she is here now, no escaping it. She had thought Moonie would be around to gossip, but it seems she slipped away.

"Hawkwood?" Callie asks. "Yeah. I got in. Tuition there is crazy, and they only give out scholarships in cases of exceptional financial need."

"Well, glad you came here then," Galilee smiles.

She joins Callie at the table, but quickly pulls out a book. Galilee can feel the blush already threatening her cheeks and is hoping to hide it behind a book. Callie tries not to look up at her, focusing on her drawing.

Unlike many other students in her grade, Callie is good at drawing hands. It's an easy distraction too, since it's quite difficult to perfectly sketch the proportions, the muscles and bones, all of the things that make a hand right. People struggle to draw because they draw not what they see but what things look like. It's a block Callie is all too familiar with. Fortunately, she is better at seeing than imagining.

So, she peeks up, just to catch a glimpse of Galilee's hands. Bandaged and all. It's easy to look at it clinically. Her bandage has been changed recently, an off white. The tips of her fingers are callused too, the nails very short. Callie draws the book in her hands, only adding the title at the end. Galilee is reading The Scarlet Letter. The material is odd for winter break, but Callie supposes that Galilee is an English major. Callie is mostly familiar with the book because she loves romanticism.

"You..." Galilee looks up, struggling to find words. "I didn't know you owned sweatpants."

Callie feels her nose crinkle, "they're reserved for bad days."

"Out of ten?"

Callie shrugs. This morning, before the meeting, she would have said the day was a three.

"A two, abouts, I think?"

Galilee nods slowly. She closes her book and peers at Callie. Only now has Callie realized how doe-eyed Galilee is. She is usually cute in her bashfulness, and Callie hates that she notices how beautiful Galilee really is when she looks melancholic. Callie tells herself it's the thinking she is attracted too, and not the sadness.

"What can we do to help you get to a three?" Galilee asks finally.

Callie smiles for half a second, "pardon?"

"Well, getting you to a six is unrealistic right now," Galilee, for once, doesn't seem like she is stumbling through her words. She's not. This phrase is one she's used with her siblings forever. "Bad days are important. They tell us when things are bad. You've just got to pick up and keep going though, because sometimes no one else is going to pick you up.

"Last year, my camera broke. It sucked a lot, since it was the first thing I bought for myself because I wanted it, and not because I needed it, or someone else needed me to have it. I gave myself two hours to cry about it, and then I enrolled myself in dance classes, because I always wanted to dance. It might seem counterintuitive, since the camera was expensive and so were the dance classes, but the dance class brought my week up half a point. A full four. I guess I can only hate the pressure my parents put on me for that long."

She finds herself blushing. Usually, that part of the conversation is more implied, something she shares with her siblings who have a chance of leaving, like Layton or Cohyn. She doesn't say it out loud, let alone to people who are in the know.

Galilee is a photographer, good at catching flashes of people, but only behind a lens. She sees neither the slight tilt of Callie's head nor the slow flush which rises behind the blush on Callie's face.

~~~

Just like Benedict, Tempest is someone who Maverick hasn't checked in on in a few days. He knocks on her door, hoping she isn't elsewhere in the building.

"Come in!" Tempest calls.

He enters. Tempest is sitting with her legs crossed on her bed. She closes her laptop, hiding the advice on her computer. The second trimester has begun, as of today. Her physical symptoms, from morning sickness to tender breasts, should be subsiding. In exchange, her bump will be harder to ignore soon.

If the baby is a girl, she will already have eggs in her ovaries.

"Sorry we haven't chatted in a bit," Maverick sits down at her desk chair. "How are you?"

"Better than you'd expect," Tempest offers, a timid smile.

Living on the same floor, they run into each other all the time. The building has only one elevator, and they ride it together. Sometimes, they throw combined events for the east and west halves of the fourth floor. Her students call him Daddy Maverick sometimes, and she is pretty sure it's because of Maverick's broad shoulders and winning smile rather than the fatherly role he plays in their lives. Still, he is there.

Maybe they aren't all that close, but Maverick's good attitude and kind words are reliable. They are a constant akin to gravity. Maybe she takes that for granted.

"Actually, Maverick," she begins, trying to keep herself together. "I... Can I tell you something in confidence?"

"I'm very confident," Maverick winks. "Shoot."

Tempest timidly smiles, "I'm pregnant."

Her eyes light up when a smile naturally beams across his face. It takes over his cheeks, and his eyes seem almost shiny, "wow, umm, this is good news right? You're happy?"

No one's been happy before. Not really Darlington, and certainly not Mal.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her grin too bright, "well, it's complicated. But yeah, I think it's okay."

Maverick gets up and hugs her. She leans into it, wondering if he can feel her baby bump through her clothes. Then, he sits back down.

"Do you... how long have you known? Do you know the gender, or have any names?" Maverick carefully dances around the question of Mal, whom he hasn't seen in over a month.

It was exams, but still.

"You didn't come to talk about that," Tempest doesn't add that it isn't good enough news that she has thought about the baby as something that will one day have a name it will respond to, and thoughts of feelings of its own, and maybe even an experience in a college dorm. "What's up with you?"

"Well, it feels anticlimactic," Maverick scratches the back of his neck. "I take enough English classes to know that kind of thing matters."

Tempest gestures for him to continue, and so Maverick sighs, "I just... Moonie seemed rough today. I know neither of you are that close, but I'm worried I did something. I was wondering if you heard anything with your girl spidey senses. Well, Moonie's not completely a girl. Or is she a girl but also non-binary on top of that? I try to be an ally but it's a bit over my head, to be honest."

She shakes her head at his rant, gritting her teeth, "I think she's just going through a personal thing. Don't take it personally."

"I was... I wanted to ask her on a date."

Tempest's fingers run cold. The chill snakes up her wrists and elbows and settles in her spine. This is not good. There is already Darlington and Elodie drama, and then Moonie and Darlington drama, but now maybe Maverick and Moonie, and by extent Maverick and Darlington drama? This would be bad news even if they weren't snowed in.

"What?" Maverick stares at her. "Do you know something?"

"It's not really my place."

It's something bad. Maverick doesn't like when people don't get along. Maybe he shouldn't pry, but it's Moonie.

"You don't have to tell me," Maverick bites his tongue, "but... listen. I like Moonie. A lot. I want to be her friend more than anything. Also, I'll plan out three joint events in the new year and you won't have to do anything."

Tempest is also conflict-avoidant. She looks at Maverick's face and sees the worry. He just... Maverick shouldn't be like that. Telling him might make him more upset, and she's already spilt a large secret. She wouldn't betray Darlington like that, and if she told Maverick, he'd figure out in five minutes that Moonie went back to Darlington's room and not anyone else. She announced that they'd sneak away,

Maverick can tell she doesn't want to do it, "please, Tempest. Please. Help me."

Tempest breathes in. Helping people. It's what she was born to do. She's going to help this baby grow up, and she's going to help Maverick, who like her, asks for very little and helps too much.

"Okay," she breathes out. "I... I don't know any details, but Darlington seems to think they had sex."

Maverick would fall over if he weren't already sitting.

~~~~~

This is over 3K words, and I was aiming for 2K. Whoops. I blame it on my computer's return. Computer store, where I spent over 100$, told me that it was irreparable from water damage and it just needed updating. I think they were trying to steal it for parts (or maybe they just wanted a copy of the outline for Defeatism lol).

Anyway, big moments. Do yall have a favourite? It's actually really hard for me to pick. The combination of them all is really what sells it for me, just idek. Let me know what you think in the comments!