Caleb and Cal - Backdated
Feb. 26th, 2019 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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ax_mainCal finally fesses up to Caleb about training with Clint to go out into the city. Their issues all trigger each other and a lot of awkwardness ensues.
Cal usually relaxed utterly in moments like these. He was in his panther form, snuggled up on Caleb's bed with Caleb, and they were reading a fantasy novel together. Caleb read faster than Cal, so it was up to him to paw at Caleb's hand when he was done, and it was time to turn the page. It had to be fucking boring for Caleb, having to wait for Cal to be done every time, but Cal figured that getting panther cuddles made up for it?
Except today, he had trouble focusing, because this one character was hiding something from their friend, and the more Clint and Cal trained together, the more Cal felt like he was hiding a huge thing from Caleb, and he didn't want to. Not this kind of thing.
So at the end of that chapter, he tapped twice on Caleb's arm, a warning that he was about to get up, and did just that, stretching the way only a feline could do before sitting on the edge of the bed and shifting back into himself.
"Hey, so, there's something I wanna talk to you about," he said, as calmly as he could manage, shields firmly in place to keep his nerves to himself. "And honestly, you're not gonna like it, but keep an open mind, okay? It's really not a bad thing.”
There wasn’t a sentence in the world more panic-inducing than hey, we need to talk. Caleb’s stomach dropped, and he went still, his anxiety going from zero to sixty before that first sentence even had a chance of finishing. He didn’t quite meet Cal’s eyes as his brain quickly tried to piece together what it could possibly be about. Had he done something? Said something? Was it about Space Raptor Butt Invasion? Or maybe Cal and Clint had decided they wanted to room without him?
“Okay,” Caleb said hesitantly, eyeing Cal like a bomb ready to blow.
Oh, no, that was wrong, the way Caleb was looking at him. Way to go, Rankin, for broaching the subject in the worst way possible. Instinctively, he moved closer to Caleb, reaching out for him. "Hey, no, it's..." He dropped his hand, because he wasn't sure Caleb would welcome that right now. "It's really nothing bad, I swear. You know how - my work with the Slayer's Take, in Yorkland? When we all came back, I wasn't freaking out about it." About other stuff, sure. That? Really not.
As much as Caleb had avoided talking about Yorkland, deflecting whenever the topic of it came up, he still knew what Clint and Cal had gotten up to while they were there and, it was true, Cal hadn’t been bothered by the Slayer’s Take. Other things, yeah, understandably, and if Caleb could get his hands on the people who’d hurt him like that he’d light them on fire. But, not the mercenary work.
Brow knitting, Caleb asked, “Are you joining X-Force?”
Cal huffed out a breath. "No," he answered, with a shake of his head. "No, not that. I don't know that I could work with any of them. But I know that I could work with Clint. Make sure he doesn't get into trouble he can't get out of on his own.”
Caleb blinked, then stared at Cal. “You’re… No.” He had to have misheard or misunderstood. There was no way Cal was thinking about going out at night and playing at vigilante too.
Right. Okay. That was not the reaction Cal had been hoping for. "Yeah," he said, quietly, keeping his eyes on Caleb's, and his voice calm. "I don't like him going out on his own. I wanna have his back.”
Anxiety tightened in Caleb’s chest like someone had dropped a rock on it and his hands curled and uncurled into fists over and over again as he tried to fight it off. The same thoughts he’d had when Clint had told him of this crazy plan were running through his head on overdrive—Cal arrested. Cal hurt. Cal dead. Cal back with the Right—but he didn’t feel like he could say any of them. He couldn’t yell at Cal. He couldn’t tell him how stupid it was, or how dangerous when he wasn’t yelling at Clint.
“Okay. Okay,” he said, then abruptly stood up. “I have to go.”
Whoa! Way worse than Cal had been hoping for, and Cal stood up when Caleb did, instinct more than choice. "Hey, dude, no, please, Caleb. Talk to me.”
Caleb put his hands up as if to stop Cal from moving closer and shook his head, not meeting his eyes. “No, no. No, I don’t want to talk about this.”
"Okay, okay." Cal raised his hands in the general sign for harmlessness, and even took a step back. "Do you want the panther? I can be the panther. We don't have to talk.”
Shaking his head again, Caleb wrapped his arms around himself. Stopstopstop. Stop thinking about it. he berated himself. Relax, you idiot. You’re terrible. Your friend just wants to talk to you, and you can’t even do that without freaking out. You’re the worst.
“I’m fine,” Caleb said, his fingers digging into his biceps. “I just—Give me a moment.”
Cal forced himself to focus on his own breathing, and shifted into the panther anyway. But he didn't go to Caleb, scared as he was to cross a line right now, and sat back on his haunches instead, forcing his tail to curl still around him. His fear tasted just as metallic at the back of his mouth in this form, but if he kept focusing on his breathing, he'd get through it. Caleb was the priority here.
Caleb stood there, unmoving, his arms around himself and his eyes fixed on the floor, for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was no more than ten minutes or so, before his heart rate evened out, and, finally, his grip on himself loosened. That feeling, like bugs crawling across his skin, lingered, but he could breathe now. He looked up, gaze settling on Cal who sat there like a dog expecting a beating. His heart broke.
Slowly, Caleb lowered himself onto the floor, then extended his arms to the panther in a silent offer.
It really did feel like an eternity. All the time Caleb stood there, unmoving, eyes vacant, Cal forced himself to think about each breath he took, and focus on looking as neutral as possible. It wasn't an effort he was used to making as a big cat, and it was all he could do to prevent his mind from spiraling as time stretched, and Caleb remained still.
When his friend's gaze finally focused on him, the relief that washed through Cal sneaked past his shields, it was so strong, and his run into Caleb's arms was more dog than cat in its eagerness. I'm sorry, he thought at Caleb, the feeling of the apology slipping out with it, I'm so sorry. It was barely a thought at all, for the amount of feelings packed into it, and Cal couldn't have even begun to analyze them then.
A wave of emotion crashed into Caleb, into his own emotions, and it was so overwhelming that he choked on a sudden sob. He hugged Cal tightly against him, burying his face in his fur. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Cal. he thought back, but he had little practice with telepathy and a torrent of self-loathing came spilling out with it in a ramble just beneath what he consciously projected. you’reawfulyouhurthimthisisyourfault
It took Cal a moment to realize that the self-loathing wasn't his own, given how much it mirrored his emotions. He strengthened his shields when he noticed how cracked they were, forcing himself to focus on that for a moment, even if he wanted to focus on Caleb. But he didn't want to risk manipulating his friend without realizing, so this came first. Then he shifted back into himself, and leaned back just enough to look Caleb in the eye, and his chest was still brimming with emotions he couldn't name, but his voice sounded steady for how tightly those emotions were packed into it. "You're not awful. Please don't think that.”
Caleb’s lap-full of panther was suddenly a lap-full of Cal. He blinked in surprise, but it turned into a furrowed brow look of confusion as what Cal said registered. “What? I—” Oh. “I didn’t.” He didn’t sound very convincing, and the way he wouldn’t meet Cal’s gaze probably didn’t help either.
Cal eased off of Caleb's lap, because that wouldn't be comfortable for anyone, but he kept his hands on his friend's shoulders and gave him a dont-bullshit-me look. "Dude."
There was no point in arguing. Caleb wasn’t sure why he’d even lied in the first place. “Just be careful out there. Both of you.” He reached for Frumpkin, who climbed up onto his lap, and buried his hand in his fur. “And stay out of my head.”
Cal was already pulling his hands back slowly when Caleb reached for Frumpkin, a gesture expedited by Caleb's last words. "Right." I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but also I didn't. There wasn't any use arguing, anyway. Cal would just shore up his shields. Moving right on, and scooting back to put some distance between them, awkwardly scratching at his opposite shoulder. "He'll be safer with me out there. Having his back." The words felt empty now, as Cal watched Caleb pet Frumpkin.
Sighing, Caleb rubbed his face. He was such an asshole. Every time he opened his mouth, he hurt Cal. He should just be supportive. A good friend—a good person would be supportive. “Yes, you are right. He will be.” Frumpkin’s purr rumbled comfortingly under his hand. “I am sorry. I overreacted.”
"I get it," Cal admitted, hand falling into his lap. They probably spent way too long on the floor of this room, that having this conversation there didn't strike him as odd. "I kinda freaked when he told me. I hate the thought of him out there alone.”
“Yeah.” Caleb scratched Frumpkin behind the ear. “Well, now he won’t be.” If he were a better person he’d be out there with them too. He’d watch out for them.
"And we'll be fine," Cal insisted calmly. More calmly by far than he felt, unsettled as he was. "Between our training and the mutations I'm packing…"
Caleb just nodded. “You are both very well trained,” he agreed.
Cal rubbed at his opposite shoulder again, unsure where to go from there. Caleb and he had grown so comfortable together, in their own way, and this was everything but. Cal didn't know what to do about that, and he didn't want to talk about their training, so he just shifted again and nudged tentatively at the hand Caleb wasn't using to pet Frumpkin.
Guilt sat as heavy as rocks in Caleb’s stomach. He knew this was wrong. He knew he should smile and tell Cal he was doing the right thing and that he supported him. And if he couldn’t do those things and mean them, he should at least fucking lie, because Cal was his friend and he needed to hear those things. But, Caleb couldn’t bring himself to get the words out. He couldn’t talk about it, or any of the things it would lead to, and he was grateful for the excuse to avoid it all entirely. He patted Cal’s head, self-loathing crawling over his skin. He was awful.
Even the way Caleb petted him was awkward right now, and Cal was at a loss what to do. The panther had always worked. There was nothing else to do, was there? He wanted to blink out of there and go run it all off for a while with Abs, but then where would that leave him and Caleb? So he curled up on the floor against Caleb, rested his head on his paws, and hoped that time and contact would fix what was wrong between them.
Unable to say anything and unable to leave, Caleb could only sit there in silence, his expression pained, one hand buried in Frumpkin’s fur for comfort, the other in Cal’s trying to give comfort.
Cal usually relaxed utterly in moments like these. He was in his panther form, snuggled up on Caleb's bed with Caleb, and they were reading a fantasy novel together. Caleb read faster than Cal, so it was up to him to paw at Caleb's hand when he was done, and it was time to turn the page. It had to be fucking boring for Caleb, having to wait for Cal to be done every time, but Cal figured that getting panther cuddles made up for it?
Except today, he had trouble focusing, because this one character was hiding something from their friend, and the more Clint and Cal trained together, the more Cal felt like he was hiding a huge thing from Caleb, and he didn't want to. Not this kind of thing.
So at the end of that chapter, he tapped twice on Caleb's arm, a warning that he was about to get up, and did just that, stretching the way only a feline could do before sitting on the edge of the bed and shifting back into himself.
"Hey, so, there's something I wanna talk to you about," he said, as calmly as he could manage, shields firmly in place to keep his nerves to himself. "And honestly, you're not gonna like it, but keep an open mind, okay? It's really not a bad thing.”
There wasn’t a sentence in the world more panic-inducing than hey, we need to talk. Caleb’s stomach dropped, and he went still, his anxiety going from zero to sixty before that first sentence even had a chance of finishing. He didn’t quite meet Cal’s eyes as his brain quickly tried to piece together what it could possibly be about. Had he done something? Said something? Was it about Space Raptor Butt Invasion? Or maybe Cal and Clint had decided they wanted to room without him?
“Okay,” Caleb said hesitantly, eyeing Cal like a bomb ready to blow.
Oh, no, that was wrong, the way Caleb was looking at him. Way to go, Rankin, for broaching the subject in the worst way possible. Instinctively, he moved closer to Caleb, reaching out for him. "Hey, no, it's..." He dropped his hand, because he wasn't sure Caleb would welcome that right now. "It's really nothing bad, I swear. You know how - my work with the Slayer's Take, in Yorkland? When we all came back, I wasn't freaking out about it." About other stuff, sure. That? Really not.
As much as Caleb had avoided talking about Yorkland, deflecting whenever the topic of it came up, he still knew what Clint and Cal had gotten up to while they were there and, it was true, Cal hadn’t been bothered by the Slayer’s Take. Other things, yeah, understandably, and if Caleb could get his hands on the people who’d hurt him like that he’d light them on fire. But, not the mercenary work.
Brow knitting, Caleb asked, “Are you joining X-Force?”
Cal huffed out a breath. "No," he answered, with a shake of his head. "No, not that. I don't know that I could work with any of them. But I know that I could work with Clint. Make sure he doesn't get into trouble he can't get out of on his own.”
Caleb blinked, then stared at Cal. “You’re… No.” He had to have misheard or misunderstood. There was no way Cal was thinking about going out at night and playing at vigilante too.
Right. Okay. That was not the reaction Cal had been hoping for. "Yeah," he said, quietly, keeping his eyes on Caleb's, and his voice calm. "I don't like him going out on his own. I wanna have his back.”
Anxiety tightened in Caleb’s chest like someone had dropped a rock on it and his hands curled and uncurled into fists over and over again as he tried to fight it off. The same thoughts he’d had when Clint had told him of this crazy plan were running through his head on overdrive—Cal arrested. Cal hurt. Cal dead. Cal back with the Right—but he didn’t feel like he could say any of them. He couldn’t yell at Cal. He couldn’t tell him how stupid it was, or how dangerous when he wasn’t yelling at Clint.
“Okay. Okay,” he said, then abruptly stood up. “I have to go.”
Whoa! Way worse than Cal had been hoping for, and Cal stood up when Caleb did, instinct more than choice. "Hey, dude, no, please, Caleb. Talk to me.”
Caleb put his hands up as if to stop Cal from moving closer and shook his head, not meeting his eyes. “No, no. No, I don’t want to talk about this.”
"Okay, okay." Cal raised his hands in the general sign for harmlessness, and even took a step back. "Do you want the panther? I can be the panther. We don't have to talk.”
Shaking his head again, Caleb wrapped his arms around himself. Stopstopstop. Stop thinking about it. he berated himself. Relax, you idiot. You’re terrible. Your friend just wants to talk to you, and you can’t even do that without freaking out. You’re the worst.
“I’m fine,” Caleb said, his fingers digging into his biceps. “I just—Give me a moment.”
Cal forced himself to focus on his own breathing, and shifted into the panther anyway. But he didn't go to Caleb, scared as he was to cross a line right now, and sat back on his haunches instead, forcing his tail to curl still around him. His fear tasted just as metallic at the back of his mouth in this form, but if he kept focusing on his breathing, he'd get through it. Caleb was the priority here.
Caleb stood there, unmoving, his arms around himself and his eyes fixed on the floor, for what felt like an eternity. In reality, it was no more than ten minutes or so, before his heart rate evened out, and, finally, his grip on himself loosened. That feeling, like bugs crawling across his skin, lingered, but he could breathe now. He looked up, gaze settling on Cal who sat there like a dog expecting a beating. His heart broke.
Slowly, Caleb lowered himself onto the floor, then extended his arms to the panther in a silent offer.
It really did feel like an eternity. All the time Caleb stood there, unmoving, eyes vacant, Cal forced himself to think about each breath he took, and focus on looking as neutral as possible. It wasn't an effort he was used to making as a big cat, and it was all he could do to prevent his mind from spiraling as time stretched, and Caleb remained still.
When his friend's gaze finally focused on him, the relief that washed through Cal sneaked past his shields, it was so strong, and his run into Caleb's arms was more dog than cat in its eagerness. I'm sorry, he thought at Caleb, the feeling of the apology slipping out with it, I'm so sorry. It was barely a thought at all, for the amount of feelings packed into it, and Cal couldn't have even begun to analyze them then.
A wave of emotion crashed into Caleb, into his own emotions, and it was so overwhelming that he choked on a sudden sob. He hugged Cal tightly against him, burying his face in his fur. No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Cal. he thought back, but he had little practice with telepathy and a torrent of self-loathing came spilling out with it in a ramble just beneath what he consciously projected. you’reawfulyouhurthimthisisyourfault
It took Cal a moment to realize that the self-loathing wasn't his own, given how much it mirrored his emotions. He strengthened his shields when he noticed how cracked they were, forcing himself to focus on that for a moment, even if he wanted to focus on Caleb. But he didn't want to risk manipulating his friend without realizing, so this came first. Then he shifted back into himself, and leaned back just enough to look Caleb in the eye, and his chest was still brimming with emotions he couldn't name, but his voice sounded steady for how tightly those emotions were packed into it. "You're not awful. Please don't think that.”
Caleb’s lap-full of panther was suddenly a lap-full of Cal. He blinked in surprise, but it turned into a furrowed brow look of confusion as what Cal said registered. “What? I—” Oh. “I didn’t.” He didn’t sound very convincing, and the way he wouldn’t meet Cal’s gaze probably didn’t help either.
Cal eased off of Caleb's lap, because that wouldn't be comfortable for anyone, but he kept his hands on his friend's shoulders and gave him a dont-bullshit-me look. "Dude."
There was no point in arguing. Caleb wasn’t sure why he’d even lied in the first place. “Just be careful out there. Both of you.” He reached for Frumpkin, who climbed up onto his lap, and buried his hand in his fur. “And stay out of my head.”
Cal was already pulling his hands back slowly when Caleb reached for Frumpkin, a gesture expedited by Caleb's last words. "Right." I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but also I didn't. There wasn't any use arguing, anyway. Cal would just shore up his shields. Moving right on, and scooting back to put some distance between them, awkwardly scratching at his opposite shoulder. "He'll be safer with me out there. Having his back." The words felt empty now, as Cal watched Caleb pet Frumpkin.
Sighing, Caleb rubbed his face. He was such an asshole. Every time he opened his mouth, he hurt Cal. He should just be supportive. A good friend—a good person would be supportive. “Yes, you are right. He will be.” Frumpkin’s purr rumbled comfortingly under his hand. “I am sorry. I overreacted.”
"I get it," Cal admitted, hand falling into his lap. They probably spent way too long on the floor of this room, that having this conversation there didn't strike him as odd. "I kinda freaked when he told me. I hate the thought of him out there alone.”
“Yeah.” Caleb scratched Frumpkin behind the ear. “Well, now he won’t be.” If he were a better person he’d be out there with them too. He’d watch out for them.
"And we'll be fine," Cal insisted calmly. More calmly by far than he felt, unsettled as he was. "Between our training and the mutations I'm packing…"
Caleb just nodded. “You are both very well trained,” he agreed.
Cal rubbed at his opposite shoulder again, unsure where to go from there. Caleb and he had grown so comfortable together, in their own way, and this was everything but. Cal didn't know what to do about that, and he didn't want to talk about their training, so he just shifted again and nudged tentatively at the hand Caleb wasn't using to pet Frumpkin.
Guilt sat as heavy as rocks in Caleb’s stomach. He knew this was wrong. He knew he should smile and tell Cal he was doing the right thing and that he supported him. And if he couldn’t do those things and mean them, he should at least fucking lie, because Cal was his friend and he needed to hear those things. But, Caleb couldn’t bring himself to get the words out. He couldn’t talk about it, or any of the things it would lead to, and he was grateful for the excuse to avoid it all entirely. He patted Cal’s head, self-loathing crawling over his skin. He was awful.
Even the way Caleb petted him was awkward right now, and Cal was at a loss what to do. The panther had always worked. There was nothing else to do, was there? He wanted to blink out of there and go run it all off for a while with Abs, but then where would that leave him and Caleb? So he curled up on the floor against Caleb, rested his head on his paws, and hoped that time and contact would fix what was wrong between them.
Unable to say anything and unable to leave, Caleb could only sit there in silence, his expression pained, one hand buried in Frumpkin’s fur for comfort, the other in Cal’s trying to give comfort.
