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He’s done this a few times when he gets bad, but this is a bit of an overkill, Nott thought as she kept an eye on her friend. He was reading a book in the dim moonlight by the window, squinting his eyes and furrowing his brows to try to keep himself from nodding off. He looked exhausted, trembling and pale-faced as if he would pass out in an instant, but he just kept reading.
It was no point telling him to sleep at this ungodly hour.
Nott had asked him to sleep too many times the past two nights, when he sat at the windowsill and read in the exact same position as he would be found in the morning. He grunted softly whenever she did and would not move if she tried to pull him onto his bed. Despite his skinny frame, he was stronger than the little goblin girl, waving her off to leave.
But she would never leave, not when her friend was as white as a ghost with too dark circles under his eyes. Not when she could see he was doing this to silence the fiery demons inside his working mind.
After the first night passed, Nott kept awake to make sure he got some rest. There was one moment where he begrudgingly followed her onto his bed and laid down to please her, but when she checked on him again an hour later, he was back by the window, curled into his knees with the book in hand.
Since then, she sat with him on the windowsill. She could feel the pain radiating from him in waves, even as he kept his eyes glued to the book (something historical, boring, but Nott deduced it was enough to keep his mind at bay). She hoped her presence helped to dull the fire in his lungs.
“Is it a good book?” Nott asked, once she had settled on the sill for the third night. She tried to make it comfy for him, nestled in so many blankets and pillows they threatened to fall onto the streets below, but he never used them.
Caleb did not seem to hear her, so she prodded a toe to his knee. He looked up, barely, with a sickly stare before registering she was waiting for an answer.
“Oh. Ja. Good,” he mumbled thickly before going back to the damned book. It was a different one tonight. He must have finished the other one.
Silence hung in the air as horses clacked on the cobblestone below and crownsguard whispered in the shadows. It was very, very late, yet Caleb persevered.
“Will you sleep tonight?” Nott whispered with an ache in her chest. She could barely stand watching him this way. Her eyes burned into his forehead with so much worry. Please. Please sleep.
“Mm.” It was all that he said.
A sigh escaped Nott’s lips. Another failure.
She draped a blanket over Caleb’s knees and watched him read until her eyes slipped closed and she slept. When she awoke to sunlight dripping onto her face, Caleb was still there. Reading, breathing, blanket tossed onto the floor below.
Caleb only did this when they were safe. He could never afford this on their travels, when they needed his spells and intelligence and books. Exhaustion could kill them all, because of him. He would never place his friends in danger.
That meant the nightmares would come fiercer, stronger, and the memories would haunt him more vividly, brightly, after the long rest his mind had.
Keeping awake meant his mind would tire itself out, to the point where he could no longer think, or feel, or remember. It was something they used to do back with Trent when he got worse. Exhaustion numbs the pain. Numbs the scars and blood and screams. Numbs the fire and heat and horror.
He liked it. He liked tiring himself out to the point where his mind collapsed and his body gave way, because it meant he would no longer be tormented. At peace, in the cold bliss of unconsciousness. A concurrent experience, he was always squishy, and he took those few moments to think about how nice it would be if he could just be in that blackness longer.
Now on day three of all-nighters, he pulled off the windowsill feeling like the utter wreck he was. An absolute sack of shit, preparing for the day ahead.
He avoided the look that Nott gave him, of concern and disappointment. He avoided the throbbing in his head and shakiness of the ground. Who cared what happened to him now? He was waiting for the sweet release of burning out.
Where his fire was no longer a threat.
The tavern was quiet in the early hours of the day. Few patrons tiredly propped up on chairs who drank their ale and snored into their breakfast of meats and stew. The barmaid slowly made her way around the wooden floor, sweeping up dust with rough swishes of her broom. Smells of cooking wafted from the kitchen door behind the bar and the soft taps and knocks on the ceiling above spoke of guests of the inn beginning to rouse up and get ready for the day. It was peaceful, calm, as the town began to wake up, or for Caleb, stay up.
He strayed at the bottom of the stairs, observing the patrons quietly to see if he recognised them. It was hard to see in the shadows of orange lanterns and blurry vision, but none of them seemed like Academy folk. Relaxing his shoulders, he picked out a table for everyone to sit at and started to wander forward.
“Goood morning, Cay-leb!”
Jester’s voice thundered down the steps along with her footfalls, thudding ever closer towards him. Her arms crashed into Caleb’s wrecked body at the bottom of the stairs, as he yelped and shot out a hand to steady himself on the stairwell. She was jovial today; it made his chest heave.
“Guess who!” Through her tilted accent, she giggled, covering his eyes with her palms. Most days, he liked to play along to make her smile. Today, he brushed her off with a quick shove and rubbed his drying eyes.
“Morning.” He muttered with a cough. It hurt him to see her falter before resuming her cheery self.
“It’s Jester!” She picked back up, touching the tip of his nose with a perky finger. Her edge to her movements told him she knew it was not a good day.
From behind them, more voices piped up, and the rest of the group wandered down with loud greetings and questions of sleep. They were already so full and happy and warm.
You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve their happiness and smiles and warmth. You don’t deserve them.
Fjord plopped a heavy hand onto Jester’s head to ruffle her hair, laughing at her morning antics before they moved towards the table Caleb had eyed. Molly and Beau were already fighting about something or other, Yasha towering both of them as she sighed at their eagerness to defeat the other in their relentless debates. Caleb let them move ahead first before Nott tugged on his coat and leaned up to speak.
“You good today?” she whispered.
How could you let her worry; how can you live with yourself like this? Why do you do this to her?
“Of course,” he managed to croak out.
How could you lie to her with a straight face? How could you look at her with those damned eyes?
When they sat down with the others, the barmaid took their orders for breakfast. Caleb only ordered ale. He could barely think about food.
He had three mugs of ale as the rest ate plates of eggs and meats and pastries. The barmaid snuck a plate of bacon to him once she had settled their meals, a softened hand offering respite.
“On the house. You need it.” She whispered. Caleb forced a smile.
Once she had left, he pushed it to the ravenous Molly sitting beside, licking up gravy from his plate.
“Take it, you look starved,” he said, to which Molly did very gratefully.
“Thank you, dear.” Molly grinned with a big smirk before scarfing it up. “I’ll order you something sweet, don’t you worry.”
As Molly raised his hand up to call for the bar maid, Caleb slapped it down roughly.
You don’t deserve it.
“No, no, please. I’m not hungry.” He pulled his hand away just as fast as he took Molly’s arm, shame rising in his cheeks. How could he? He looked down into his lap, cursing himself into eternity.
“Ale is enough.” Caleb had to swallow at the thought of feeding his stupid body, the hands that did so much. He hid under the collar of his coat, hoping Molly could not see his shaking lips that ached for food.
Molly only looked at him with a cocky smile. “Well, well, I like you today,” he chuckled. He went back to the lean meats that Caleb had given, and Caleb breathed shakily.
Nott shot him another nervous look. He was getting worse. But she stayed quiet about her observations and continued the conversation with the group.
Fjord and Beau were discussing their plans for the day. They had nothing planned, and they were aching to have another day of fun. The city they were in had plenty of activities to indulge themselves in, not to mention the festival coming up. Jester mentioned getting costumes for the night, which Molly was fascinated with. Yasha laughed at the idea, but she was in, now asking how to get something with beautiful floral print. They were so happy, so blissful.
How could he stay with them when all he brought was trouble, trouble that could materialise in front of them without warning? How could he stay when he put them all in danger? How could he stay when he downed them all under the well?
They had decided to look for costumes for the festival, when Nott piped up.
“You know what, I think Caleb and I will hit the library at the top of the hill today. We’ll join you later for dress shopping,” she said under her porcelain mask. “We can meet at, say, the marketplace?”
At once, the group glanced at Caleb’s direction, as if just noticing him that morning, the stares piercing into his soul. He could not meet their eyes. He could feel them realising his exhaustion.
“Hey, you’re looking kind of pale there, bud,” Beau said, poking his ribs with her staff. “You feel okay?”
“Yes, Nott, I am okay,” he grumbled, glaring a little at the goblin. “I can follow you all, I have a book from the library already.”
He wanted to follow them, despite everything. He ached for their jokes and friendship. He knew he should leave, but by gods, his head was in such a state he could barely rebut the flashing thoughts that screamed at him to run.
He was fine. He was fine. He was fine.
“But Caleb-“ Nott started before he got up from his chair, wobbling slightly, and walked towards the doors.
“Come on, I would like to find a costume for Frumpkin as well,” he hailed back in a strained voice, to which Jester squealed and started to dash out with him.
He was okay. He was alright. He was fine.
Caleb could only repeat those thoughts for the rest of the morning, blurrily following the group from one shop to another. His head was throbbing with lack of sleep, eyes burning into his skull. He kept his hands in his pockets, they shook too much to give his state away. At least the fires in his head were calmer, memories starting to jumble. He could barely keep track of the time.
There was just one persistent thought in his head. He did not deserve this peace.
“Look.” Beau prodded his side and he startled to the present.
Glancing over, he noticed they were in another store that sold elaborate decorations and cloth pieces for fancier festivals. The aisles contained shelves upon shelves, stuffed to the brim with silly props of strange and intricate bits and bobs, parts of costumes and disguises of all kinds. He could hear laughing and teasing somewhere behind the mess around them, the voices of his friends filtering into his mind in dreamy comfort.
Next to him, Beau was holding a small, puffy cat toy in his face, waiting for a response with a smirk.
“We could tie it onto Frumpkin’s collar or something. He’d be like a double cat,” she snickered slightly. Caleb blinked for a moment.
“Yes, that would be very funny,” he smiled tautly. What was he doing here? Why had he not run yet? His mind was jumped through too many things and he struggled to find the right words.
The monk narrowed her eyes and leaned closer towards his face, burrowing further down into his scarf.
“You look pretty horrible,” she said as blunt as she was. “What’s up, bud?”
“I’m okay.” He looked at the tearing soles on his boots, the rotten holes in the wood floor, the gathering dust under all the shelves-
The staff whacked his chin upwards, and his eyes met Beau’s fierce, steely glare.
“Caleb.” There was sudden softness in her stern words, a rare voice she put on when someone was hurt. His chest tightened too much. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone, you know that.”
His breath quickened too much, his head thudded too much.
He stayed silent, trembling in disgust of himself.
“Beau! Caleb! We’re leaving the shop,” Fjord’s voice echoed around the chamber.
The two stared at each other for another moment, before Beau lowered her staff and sighed heavily, clearly disappointed at him. Another disappointment. Another one he hurt.
They left the shop in eerie, uncomfortable silence.
He was fine. He was fine.
That night, he decided to walk. He had finished the history books he got from the library, now itching to do anything to soothe his listlessness. When he was sure his friends were in their alarmed rooms and Nott was away, he snuck out of the window he had occupied the past nights, shimmying down a pipe with lanky ungracefulness and walked the cobblestone paths towards anywhere but here.
The night was cold as he buried himself into his coat, shallow breath clouding with mist in the chilly air. It was nice to be alone after so many days with his friends. He reminded himself again that he needed to be alone. He had been for so many years and it kept him from hurting anyone again.
He never deserved the comfort they brought to him. He did them so much wrong. And they kept forgiving him, the absolute trash he was. They did not know what he did in his past, if they did, they would never forgive him so easily. How could they, how could he?
Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.
Before he knew it, he was crying and gasping for air in an alleyway, trembling over bags of seeping trash and throwing up the ales he had.
He did not return in the morning, and Nott was screaming for the others to wake up.
“Nott, what is it this time?” Fjord answered the door wearily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The goblin crashed into his legs and fell to her knees, and he shook himself awake. What was wrong?
“He’s gone,” she struggled through thick tears, “He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone- “
“Whoa there, who’s gone? Nott?” he yelped, crouching down to take her shoulders. She looked a mess of snot and tears, eyes dark underneath that spoke of no sleep.
She was shaking uncontrollably with such fear that Fjord had to grip her harder to stop her from twisting out of his hold.
“Caleb-he left a note and he said he’ll come back in the morning and now it’s morning and he isn’t here and-oh, my boy.” She crumbled into Fjord’s arms and sobbed harder. She knew this day was coming, but loss could never be prepared for.
By now, Molly had woken up, tied his robe around his form and kneeled beside them. Both he and Fjord shared a worried look.
“Hey, we’ll find him, he can’t be too far,” Fjord said, trying to comfort the small, writhing goblin in his arms. Why did Caleb leave? Weren’t they hitting it off, being friends, people that could rely on each other? They trusted each other, didn’t they? Where did he go?
They sent Nott to clean up while they prepared for the day and looked at each other in fury, in fear, in worry.
“That fool…I should have said something. He was acting so strange the past few days. You realise he hasn’t eaten anything but ale?” Molly chided roughly, yanking on his pants.
“We should tell the girls, maybe they might have a clue where he went,” Fjord sighed. He was barely listening to his roommate, planning their course of action. His mind ticked through all the possible places the man could wander off to. Bookstores, the library, the parks. He must still be in the city, right?
“He makes Nott worry so much. That damned man. He makes us worry too; doesn’t he know that?”
They looked at each other again in dismay. Of course, he did.
When they finished, they knocked on the girls’ door and prepared for the damage.
“Stupid fucking wizard!” Beau cursed, kicking the wall so hard the plaster split. “I knew he was up to something. He was so distracted yesterday and gods, he looked so bad, but he just deflected me like I was some stranger. I’m his friend. He’s supposed to tell me shit! Right, Fjord?”
“That’s what friendship is, yes.” Fjord tried to pry her away from the wall, but she kicked it again and the crack tore even larger. Gods, he hoped they did not have to pay for that.
“Maybe he just slept in the library, or lost track of time? Don’t worry, Nott, we’ll find him,” Jester started carefully, hugging Nott close to her chest. She was still shaking and mumbling, but she was more coherent than before.
“He can’t lose track of time, he’s so smart,” Yasha remarked, and all of them winced. “Sorry.”
Molly patted her shoulder. “No, it’s alright, Yasha. At least we can cross that reason off the list.”
They stayed quiet while Beau steamed and started cursing into the air. The grunts and frustration coming out of her mouth embodied the entire group. That fucking wizard.
“Why would he not come back? Nott, you ever heard him saying something weird the past few days?” Fjord asked, coming to sit beside Jester and her. Nott had to wipe her face with her cloak before she could reply.
“Yes. There was a night he was keeping watch, and I wasn’t supposed to be awake, but I was, and I heard him say things about us.”
A pause, another shaky breath.
“He said he wanted to leave us.”
There was a collective silence from everyone, a chest-tightening dread settling into their stomachs as heavy rocks. Yasha gripped her sword with white knuckles. Molly held her hand. Beau dropped the pillow. Jester could only gasp again. Fjord stared at Nott, dumbfounded.
“Why?” he whispered.
“He said he told us too much already, that we couldn’t help him. He was saying he should just leave us and go that night, but he didn’t. I thought it wouldn’t come up again, he seemed to find a place with us. He looked so much happier with us.”
“We have to find that damn bastard. We’re his friends. We can help him. We’re going to help him,” Beau spat out angrily and grabbed her staff. “Whether he likes it or not.”
Caleb was broken.
He was never fine.
The hollowness in his chest burned like the fire he tried to douse with exhaustion, but it was still there. He could never get rid of it. No matter how many nights he stayed up to numb the stabbing in his heart and the ringing in his head. It was there. It was still there.
His body had collapsed some hours in the night, but his mind still worked overtime, like a roaring cart screeching on metal tracks, constantly moving, constantly crashing. His legs had given way and he had to crouch in the shadows of the alley he had holed up in, sobbing with burning eyes into his bandaged arms, gasping for air like a drowning man. Even as the sun began to peek from above the gabled roofs, he stayed surrounded by trash, just like he was. Too tired to move or think. Just feeling wave after wave of agony crashing his system into darkness.
Soon his mind would collapse, and he could wash it all away with blacking out.
He looked forward for his mind to crumble.
“Caleb!”
That voice.
He stiffened slightly, if his muscles could even move at this point. They found him.
Why did you have to stay so long? Why did you have to make connections? Why did you have to be attached to people you didn’t deserve?
“Caleb!” Nott’s voice yelled again from somewhere down the alley, bounding closer now. He strained to get up and run, but his legs could not move.
“Caleb,” her voice softened as she neared him. She gingerly touched his bandages and kneeled towards him, urging him to show a sign that he was alive and well. Her hands shook him slightly to respond.
“Look at me, are you okay?” she ripped off her mask and moved in front of his face that leaned into his lap. “What happened? Are you hurt? Caleb, please.”
He made some sort of strangled moan under his breath. Go away, he begged, before I burn you again.
“Please, Caleb, answer me,” she pleaded.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out a gasp, coughing hard into his chest. I’m so sorry I worried you, I’m so sorry I hurt you, I’m so sorry I am this sack of garbage, I do not deserve you.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, you did nothing wrong.”
She was wrong, she was so wrong.
Nott gave him a hard hug and he started to shake, tears spilling out of his puffy eyes again. He did not deserve this, he did not deserve this. He had to leave. He had to go.
His cries wracked his body and he collapsed into himself, knuckling his eyes. Stop. Please just go. He started to gag on his own screams, his own strangled sobs. Please. Please.
“Oh, Caleb.” Nott whispered, smoothing his hair and shushing in his ear, “Oh dear, you’re burning up.”
The thing about burning out is that you have to be on fire first.
When he woke up, he felt like his entire body was broken.
The sun was beating down his face in gentle rays, warm breeze flowing in from the open windows. He could barely remember what was going on.
Ah.
His body felt like he was blazing, eyes burning with lost tears, throat parched. It was four o’clock, his damn mind said, the damn mind that was functioning still, remembering still. Gods. He wanted to black out and forget again.
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear. Why was he still here? After everything he had done. Why was he still here?
From somewhere beyond his eyelids, a shadow loomed over and caressed his cheek softly. It made tears well up in his eyes. He didn’t deserve this.
“You’re awake,” Nott whispered with a crack in her voice. It made Caleb’s heart break. He kept his eyes closed, he could not bear to watch his friend worry about him, but the tears were filling up and spilling onto his cheeks.
“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here with you.”
A wracked gasp escaped his lips, a sound that pierced his chest with twisted agony.
“How long?” he choked out. A calloused hand wiped the pooling tears on his face carefully as a moment passed between them.
“Two days.” Nott sighed.
Another moment passed.
“We were so worried,” she whispered, stroking his face, “We are so worried.”
“I’m so sorry,” Caleb cracked out, bringing his arm up to wipe away his own tears, cover his face in shame, pushing her away. I’m so sorry for worrying you, them. I’m so sorry for being such a bad person, I’m so sorry I did this to you. I’m so sorry for doing this to you.
She hushed him quietly, holding him in her arms, rocking him gently. It was all she could do to ease the fire burning him to ashes. She whispered comfort, hoping it would make it through the flames in his mind. She held him as he sobbed and coughed and choked. She would never let him go, even if she caught fire too.
The festival was in full swing, celebrating the end of winter, the beginning of spring. The market square was covered in white powder as the last bits of snow fluttered down from the sky, onto silver streamers hanging from lampposts and windows, onto canvas roofs of shops selling hot cocoa and spiced apples. Performers were balling out cheerful chirps and calls to the crowds, game stalls were packed with luck seekers, costumed folks danced in the streets. It was truly a time to be alive, to be awake despite the freezing cold that still plagued the city.
There was a flame that could not be put out though, squeezed in the middle of the happiness surrounding him.
Caleb stood in the chilly night, facing the sky. Snow melted on the silly robe Jester made him put on, and the raven mask covering his face. He was alone, and he remembered the morning before.
When the rest of their little troupe found Nott and Caleb sobbing in bed, they pushed themselves over to wrap them up into a big hug. It nearly squeezed the remaining life out of him, but they refused to let go.
“You fucking idiot,” Beau yelled, after finally letting him go. She punched his arm lightly, but she smiled with sparkling eyes.
“Are you ok?” Jester asked, chirpy voice wavering with anxiety. She kept her hand on his arm, as if she feared he would go away again. Fjord held his other arm tightly, fiercely staring at him with taut lips.
“You were asleep for a very long time,” Yasha said, crouched down to meet his eyes. Molly was beside her, rubbing Caleb’s knee with a roughness that spoke of worry.
He was drained of tears and exhausted beyond repair, but he mumbled apologies near incoherently.
“I’m so sorry,” he coughed out, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Why did you leave?” Jester whispered.
Somehow, somehow, his walls broke. The fire tore down the barriers he had constructed around himself to stay isolated and keep everyone safe, at least for that moment. He found himself pouring out the words from his mouth like a waterfall crashing onto the sorry rocks below.
“I do not deserve your kindness. I do not deserve you all. You are all so warm and welcoming, but I cannot have that.”
There was a silence as everyone tried to process what he said, what he had held in for so long. Every terrible memory ran through his mind; how he hurt them in the well, how he almost got them killed, how his leadership nearly drove Molly to his death, nearly let his teammates be sold, how he killed so many ruthlessly in the Academy.
How he burned his parents.
“I have done so much cruel, evil things to so many people. I put all of you in terrible danger just by being around. You should be pushing me away, hell, ending my life if you had met me before.”
“I do not deserve your trust or friendship. I wanted-needed to leave, but I could not. And I…I detest that I cannot. I have misguided you, lied to you. I caused all of you so much grief and disappointment.”
“But I do not want to leave. You give so much to me. You make me…you give me comfort. But I should leave, I should leave.”
He tried to lift his legs, tried to swing himself out of bed and go, but he was so exhausted. So exhausted. His friends held him down and he could not bear to look at them in the eye.
A long, excruciating moment hung thickly in the air.
“Caleb,” Jester whispered softly, first to make a sound. She wrapped him into her arms with all her unspoken words, halting his shaking body.
“Gods,” Beau grumbled under her breath before stamping her staff on the ground. “You mean more to us than your past and your mistakes. We have our own horrible shit we did too, but you don’t love us less for it.”
“Caleb, you’re our friend.” Fjord mumbled with his warm drawl, “You give as much as we do. We’re a team.”
The three of them clutched Caleb closer, earning a whimper from the burning man.
“Sweetheart, we’ve all done bad things. We’ve probably killed more than we should, but we’re in this together.” Molly chuckled slightly, leaning closer to whisper. “I am glad we give you comfort. You deserve all of it.”
“I may not understand what torments you, but we are here to give you support.” Yasha wiped a stray hair from his forehead with soft tenderness only she could do.
“Please, don’t feel like you are alone anymore. It’s alright to lean on us a little more.”
Nott simply crawled into his lap, snuggling into his chest and tearing into his shirt.
All of his friends surrounding him, heat radiating deep into his bones. But this was not his fire, this was their warmth and kindness, willingly given, willingly shared.
He nestled in it like a cat in the sun, beginning to cry at the absurdity.
Here he stood, under the light dusting of snow and surrounded by a throng of laughing, cheering folk, behind a raven mask and a heavy cloak. Frumpkin hung around his neck with a small cat toy around his collar, purring and clawing at his scarf, offering his own form of comfort.
“Cay-leb~!” Jester called out from a nearby cider stall. “We got drinks!”
Slowly, he peeled himself from his place, joining his family as Beau ran up to grab his head, ruffling his hair with a taunting laugh. A pink Jester shoved a cup into his hands, holding them with cold blue ones and grinning all the way. Fjord settled one hand on his shoulder, pointing out a game for two to play. Molly peeked from his other shoulder, betting that Fjord would lose, and Yasha began to chuckle at the taste of her cider. Below, Nott smiled wide and silly under a dolly mask, holding onto his cloak.
Here he was with his friends, warm and safe. Here he was with his team, who helped him and who he helped. Here he was, and here he would be again for another day.
His fire may burn him, but he was not alone in putting it out anymore.