Brad liked the library.<br/><br/>There was a locker room in the back with a long bench for students to sit as they used the lockers. Sometimes, Brad would sneak in just before the place closed and sleep on that bench just so he could wake up in the library the next morning. He would read all night, or dream about reading, or maybe read about dreaming. Anything fit his pleasure that day.<br/><br/>So naturally, he didn't understand what all the hubbub was today. He was halfway through a Platonic dialog when the din reached such a level that he became just bothered enough to raise his head from the book. Through the window next to him, a man ripped another man's throat out. Then the now throatless man got back up and started walking.<br/><br/>Brad thought he understood.<br/><br/>Half an hour later, he was just as scared as every other person in the room. The difference was, he refused to let himself become part of the problem. While people ran and screamed, he took a comfortable seat and listened to people who knew more than he did, making careful mental notes of what was going on around him.<br/><br/><strong>"Does anyone... want to hold the table to the ground so I can break off some legs?"</strong><br/><br/>Brad walked over and said to the man softly, no louder than was necessary. "Yeah, here. I can hold it up, just...I dunno, try to sit on it. It'll probably break. We'll take all four off." There. That was helping.