Oh god. (Return)

[emocaliban]

Once he stumbles and nearly falls, just catching himself, and it makes him look up. His eyes widen and he backs up. “No. No. Jesus Christ, no.” His eyes are wide and round as he backs up. “You can’t do this to me,” he says, hoarsely, and ducks behind a tree. He might be there, again. She might be there. And therefore he can’t be. If they could

Comments

[phedre_25]

Phedre has not been as at peace as she seemed since she found Niko's body, and this evening, the sound of bronze wings has been sounding between her ears, the discomfort has edged more, and so she is on the Mansion grounds, trying to find its origin, though what came to pass, she cannot tell.

[emocaliban]

Caliban is somewhere, there, trying to make his way to the trees, alternating between stumbling and crawling when his knees give out. Just has to reach the dark and the shade and the quiet and then he doesn't have to worry. Can just lie down and sleep, and sleep, and sleep...

He trembles a little, trying not to dwell on anything but that determination. Done. It's time to be done. Past time.

[phedre_25]

When Phedre hears the movement, she stills, all ears to the sounds of the forest - something tells her that this is why she had to come out, but... she cannot know exactly.

[emocaliban]

He finds a place eventually, not too deep because he doesn't want to go far. Just far enough. Under a tree, a small hollow that he can just fit into. And curls into it, cheek pressed to the forest floor, and closes his eyes.

Just have to sleep now. Just have to sleep.

[phedre_25]

Phedre walks, then, into the woods, listening, not calling, just atune to the noises around him. Her steps are light and careful, and she avoids the branches that could crack. She's looking for her boy, and unless something happens, she'll be sitting on the floor, next to him, not talking, for now.

[emocaliban]

He's not moving, just quiet, eyes closed, trying to sleep. Hoping maybe she thinks it's not him, or something. Because he can't.

[phedre_25]

Phedre isn't going to go away, Cal. If the night falls, she will curl up protectively against your back, hold you the way she did before, and wait for you to talk, or to wake, or to stir.

[emocaliban]

He's doing his best to die of hypothermia, really. But he can't let her...not knowing she'll stay as long as he does.

"Lemmealone."

[phedre_25]

Muffled against the back of his neck, the answer comes, soft but gently determined.

"Never on my life, love. I shall not lose my son again."

[emocaliban]

A small, spasmodic shudder. "It's not me. I'm not your... I'm not - fucking monster, Christ, Christ..."

[phedre_25]

Phedre's voice is soft, gentle, but it still carries that stubbornness of hers. "You are my son, and I will love you as true as Yeshua's blood on the cross." She smoothes his hair, tenderly, in that motherly way of hers. "The monster is gone. I know it deep in me."

[emocaliban]

"The monster is me."

[phedre_25]

"I have told you before, I can feel its presence. It is not here now." Phedre holds him, tighter, as if that could ingrain her words in him, perhaps.

[emocaliban]

"I'm here." hoarsely. "God - I don't - I can't do this. I can't."

[phedre_25]

"You are, thank the gods." She molds herself to him a bit more, sharing warmth. "Do nothing. Only let us take care of you, please...?"

[emocaliban]

"That's what I can't do," anguished.