It wasn't so bad at first, because he was just glad to be home. But after a few days in the infirmary, and then a few more days waiting for Ava to finish healing up his arm so he could get his cast off, he felt like he had way too much pent up energy. He felt like he had to be doing something.
Unfortunately, he was on shitty light duties instead of anything worth doing. That left him with a lot of down time. He'd started by doing his normal work out routine, but it didn't feel like enough. Every time he remembered how easily he'd been pushed around by the monster in the cave, or how weak he'd been when he'd been brought home, he couldn't help but think that he needed to train more; train harder. He couldn't let himself be put into the same position twice.
He couldn't do that with what he was already doing, so he finally got up the nerve to head to the library in search of material. Which was easier said than done. Libraries were a lot bigger than they seemed. Rows upon rows of books stretched out before him and he sighed in premature defeat. He had no idea how to find what he was looking for.
He glanced towards a desk at the front of the room where a bored looking woman was leafing through an unbelievably heavy looking tomb like it was light reading. Any hope of asking for help flew out the window at what a severe image she made. No way he was going to endure looks of annoyance and degradation just because he wasn't familiar with walls of dusty a** old books.
He took to wandering the stacks, instead, fingers lightly trailing across the spines of all the books at eye level. With all his (incredibly limited) school library experience, he expected a lot of recognizable titles and small novels, or at least a lot of encyclopedias. What he was quickly realizing instead was that the island's library was filled with a lot of very old looking books and scrolls. Some - many, really - of the titles were in languages he couldn't even recognize, let alone read. They ranged from small journals with messy stitching to massive leather bound books with tags and page markers sticking out of the top.
If Chris had been lost and confused before, he was absolutely out of his element now. All he wanted were some small journals on exercise, jesus.
He paused as his fingers hit one book that stuck out a little further from the rest. It had clearly been moved recently as the dust around it had been disturbed. He pulled it free and let it fall open. Thankfully, it was in English. Or, mostly English. It took a couple minutes of flipping through the pages to find something familiar enough to identify what the book was.
He remembered learning about Heracles in history. Ancient mythologies had been the most interesting parts of history, and were probably the only things he still remembered from class. He didn't remember learning about any mystical temples in class, though.
He sat in the isle with the book cradled in his lap, officially intrigued. A lot of it sounded like over-glorified bullshit, honestly, but it mentioned treasures gifted to the mortals and he was sold. If there was anything he was beginning to realize, it was that the myths weren't always strictly myth.
He chewed on his bottom lip as he contemplated. Could he really leave on a mission so soon? Was he actually ready to leave?
He thought about his friend's faces when they'd come to see him. He thought about the way Chel waited nervously by his bed, and the way Dawson hadn't been able to do anything but yell and fret. He didn't want to put them in that position again.
He didn't want to sit around and do nothing, either.
He pulled out his phone, making the decision before he could hesitate anymore.
chiickadee
Text to Pink Piece of s**t: found something I want to check out. ur coming with me for back up.
His thumb hovered over Dawson's number in his phone (lovingly labeled "Bucky Barnes") but in the end he didn't send him the same text. Dawson would forgive him for not dragging him into his s**t, unlike Chel.
Plus, with Chel at his back he was certain it wouldn't be a complete disaster.
He snapped a picture of the important bits in the book and then slid it back on the shelf where he'd found it.
