He'd stayed away at first. It was easier to believe what he knew to be true when he wasn't confronted with places where he kept expecting to meet her. Only to find them empty
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Now that he's certain that Callie is still alive somewhere, Michael is drawn back to the beach house. He's not sure what he hopes to find. Certainly if there had been anything here that might help him find her, it's long gone by now.
But perhaps not. If Alex is honestly convinced that Callie and Mike are gone, he wouldn't have bothered to come back and search for anything. Either way, Michael figures it can't hurt to go through the place again. He got lucky last time, no one had been around at all. The place had been completely deserted, with no evidence that anyone had been there in quite a while. That's why Michael risks coming back during the day. It will be easier to spot something, if there's anything.
He wanders through the house after letting himself in, retracing the same path he'd taken last time. A stop in a room with dark furnishings turns up nothing, although Michael is fascinated. He's fairly sure this is Alex's room... there's just something about it that reminds him of the other man. A second room is much more simply furnished, sparse and austere. He wishes, not for the first time, that he'd had a chance to get to know Mike.
But the bedroom he's interested in is Callie's, and he makes his way there last. He spends the most time in this room, feeling the empty spot in his life where Callie had been more keenly as he runs his fingers over her things. A wooden carving of a cat, and one of a dragon that sit on the table next to the bed are picked up and turned over in his hands as he admires the skill of the person who carved them.
It's a small sound. At first he thinks it's just the wind and the waves but the sound keeps pricking at his mind, like a small bird trying to get to a kernel in a crack.
It doesn't fit, the sound.
And before he has even consciously realized that what he hears is footsteps he is getting up and moving toward the beach house.
He would never go in there, not when she isn't inside. But this is different. Somebody is in there. And nobody should be.
He creeps through the door, walking slowly, trying not to breathe too loud. A floorboard cracks and to him the sound is loud as gunshots. He stops, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.
He is looking scruffy and worn and he still limps a little, from his run-in with Lexi. There are scabbed scratches and cuts on his hand and face and he hasn't shaved in a couple of days.
Michael looks up, hearing a sound coming from here inside the house. He holds his breath, waiting for it to be repeated, but it doesn't come again. That makes Michael even more uneasy. His fingers tighten around the two carved figures, and he makes his way slowly to the door of Callie's room.
He opens the door slowly, edging out into the hallway, making his way toward the stairs. He's extremely jumpy all of a sudden. If this is Alex... Michael doesn't even want to think of what could happen. He knows Alex wouldn't be happy to see him here, to say the least.
Top of the stairs, then he waits. Still the sound isn't repeated, and Michael is trying to decide whether to make a break for it and get out of the house, or to write it off as the house settling and continue his search. And then he sees a shadow barely move down below and suddenly he can hear the blood pounding in his ears.
The thought of going up the stars makes him swallow hard, but he has to. Someone is up there. And this is Callie's house. And he has to protect it while she is away.
Since he couldn't protect her.
Once he moves, he moves quickly enough, taking two steps at a time.
It's not Alexander. Or that other one. Mike. He looks young and scared and he had better be. He had better be.
Oh, shit. Michael can't move for a moment. Several moments, in fact. He hadn't really expected anyone to show up. Not really. Now he has no idea what to do.
"Who are you? What are you doing in my sister's house?" He reaches for the railing on the stairs, not starting down them, though. He glances down at the carved figures in his hand, then puts them into his backpack. He wants his hands free, just in case.
He starts to back away from the stairs when the stranger starts up the stairs. He drops the backpack, to further free up his hands. He doesn't like the look on this guy's face, not one little bit.
Clay shakes his head. Callie doesn't have a brother. She would have told him. And this guy doesn't look like her at all.
He reaches the landing and stops, staring at him. Why are you here? It's not formal sign-language, more a mix of hand movements and body language. Some understand it. Some don't. Callie always did. Perfectly.
Startled, Michael stares back. He's completely uncertain, but he there's something about this man's gestures that he almost, almost understands. He isn't sure how, or even why. But it's like someone speaking another language, one that is so similar to English that the meaning is almost, almost understood.
Holding up a hand, Michael frowns. "Again. Say it again." He doesn't know if the man will actually comply, but it's worth a shot.
He doesn't blink, and his head cocks to one side. He's still wary, but now he's curious, too.
Michael thinks he catches at least some of it. Enough to know that whoever this is knows Callie, and knows Michael isn't supposed to be here.
"You know Callie? She used to live here." He is still watching the other man cautiously. "We sort of adopted each other. She's my sister. She chose me."
His chin juts out stubbornly. "And yeah, she'll be back. She's not dead, no matter what anyone tells me." He's expecting everyone to argue with him and it doesn't really register that this person seems to be in agreement.
ooc: No need to apologize, honest. I'm slow, too. Hope your work eases up a bit!
Clay starts a little and then he looks the guy over. Hard. He knows whom Callie tends to take in. But he doesn't look like Darkly. Or Alex for that matter. And the look on his face when he says that Callie will be back - that makes him relax his stance a little.
She will.
He cants his head a little and then sticks out his hand. It's rough and calloused.
I am Clay. And Callie is - He pauses, looking a little distant for a moment. We lived together. In the Forest. I loved her. Another, smaller pause.
It's easier to catch the words now that Michael knows approximately what he's looking for. He still has to watch closely, though, and he isn't certain he's getting all of what the stranger is saying.
Not stranger. He has a name now. Clay.
"Clay. I'm Michael."
He cautiously takes Clay's hand, clasping it firmly.
"Callie told me a little about the Forest. Not very much, but a little." He tries to remember if Callie mentioned Clay, and he can't. He finds that a little scary, that the few conversations he had with her are already fading in his memory. It makes him a little more belligerent than he might be, otherwise.
"She's not dead. I saw her... in a dream." Which is probably not all that convincing, to someone who doesn't know Michael's powers. "She was happy, but then she got scared. I'm trying to figure out how I can find her." He glances back over his shoulder at her room.
ooc: I'm so sorry. I didn't get a notif on your comment, and I finally went looking! *kicks LJ* You probably thought I'd bailed on you, but that is definitely not the case. My apologies.
He's dreamed about her. And it says a lot about how much this is worrying Clay that that thought is only met with a relieved smile and not a jealous frown.
Someone agrees with him.
And the fact that Micheal says he has seen it in a dream just makes it more sound. Because that is the way it is. With Callie.
Yes. Yes, she is alive. I don't know where she is. She left with Alex and he is back. He says she is dead. But he is lying. The look on his face makes it easy to tell what he thinks about Alex.
Clay's grip is firm and warm.
The Forest was - we should never have come here. But we did. I let her down and we did and now I don't know where she is.
He pauses. I used to be able to talk with her. When she wasn't there. But it is harder now. Too much noise and distance. Maybe I've forgotten how.
She was never the one who disappeared. He did. And then she called him home.
Michael chews on his bottom lip, lost in thought for a moment.
"Alex really thinks she's dead." He wavers on telling Clay about his run-in with Alex over Callie, and finally he just settles for part of it. "I was inside his mind. He couldn't lie to me, not when I could see what's in there. He really thinks she's gone." He frowns. "But I know she's not."
The frown smoothes out, and Michael gives Clay a tentative smile. "Callie doesn't hold grudges. But you probably know that."
He glances at his backpack, on the floor. "I don't know how find her though. I was hoping I'd find something here that would help me, but... I don't know what to look for here, either. I can use pictures to dreamwalk with her, but if she's drugged or something, I wouldn't be able to find her. And I'm not sure she even knows I'm there, either."
Michael runs a hand through his hair, frustration building the more he talks it through.
"Do you have any ideas at all? Where she might go, or something she might ... I don't know. Try to come back for or something?"
Alex is an idiot. It's not put across forcefully but it is obvious that Clay really holds that to be true.
At Michael's explanations about dreamwalking he cants his head a little. Listening.
Looking intently at Michael as he asks for something she might come back for. About pictures, links.
Can you get inside my head? he asks, suddenly almost eager. She wanted to go back. Home. She used to anyway. Maybe she still wants to do that? Or - she used to call me back. When I got lost. If she can, she will - if she thinks I am lost.
Except that he was never lost. Not really. He just went a little crazy - and went into the darkness. Eyes open wide. Feet running, body whipped by branches and caressed by the wind.
We can go there. It's all here - inside of me. We can go there and maybe she'll come?
"Alex isn't really an idiot." But it's not Michael's job to go around defending Alex, either.
Michael looks at Clay uncertainly. "I can probably get into your head. But I don't know if... I'd be able to see thoughts and stuff like that. Most people aren't really all that comfortable with it. Like, who wants a total stranger in their head, you know?"
He has a hard time resisting the eager look on Clay's face, though. And really, he can't resist the idea that maybe, just maybe, it could be the key to finding Callie. He would hate to turn down anything that could possibly help.
Rubbing his eyes, he thinks for a moment. "Do you think she'd hear you? If I brought us all together in a dream?" He frowns, knowing it's possible to do. "Look. It's completely up to you. I can get into your head, but I won't do it without your permission." Michael shrugs slightly.
Yes, he is. Clay isn't going to start an argument. But some things are just facts. Alex's idiocy being one of them. In his mind at least.
He nods slowly at Michael's suggestion. She might be able to. Sometimes - sometimes I've dreamed of her. And we've talked. When she has been away. SO maybe she'll be able to hear me.
He rubs a a hand over his face. And I don't care about what you see. In my mind. I just want her to come back.
Really, he wants her to come home. But he knows that home to her might not be home to him any longer. Better to call it 'back' then. It hurts less.
But perhaps not. If Alex is honestly convinced that Callie and Mike are gone, he wouldn't have bothered to come back and search for anything. Either way, Michael figures it can't hurt to go through the place again. He got lucky last time, no one had been around at all. The place had been completely deserted, with no evidence that anyone had been there in quite a while. That's why Michael risks coming back during the day. It will be easier to spot something, if there's anything.
He wanders through the house after letting himself in, retracing the same path he'd taken last time. A stop in a room with dark furnishings turns up nothing, although Michael is fascinated. He's fairly sure this is Alex's room... there's just something about it that reminds him of the other man. A second room is much more simply furnished, sparse and austere. He wishes, not for the first time, that he'd had a chance to get to know Mike.
But the bedroom he's interested in is Callie's, and he makes his way there last. He spends the most time in this room, feeling the empty spot in his life where Callie had been more keenly as he runs his fingers over her things. A wooden carving of a cat, and one of a dragon that sit on the table next to the bed are picked up and turned over in his hands as he admires the skill of the person who carved them.
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It doesn't fit, the sound.
And before he has even consciously realized that what he hears is footsteps he is getting up and moving toward the beach house.
He would never go in there, not when she isn't inside. But this is different. Somebody is in there. And nobody should be.
He creeps through the door, walking slowly, trying not to breathe too loud. A floorboard cracks and to him the sound is loud as gunshots. He stops, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.
He is looking scruffy and worn and he still limps a little, from his run-in with Lexi. There are scabbed scratches and cuts on his hand and face and he hasn't shaved in a couple of days.
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He opens the door slowly, edging out into the hallway, making his way toward the stairs. He's extremely jumpy all of a sudden. If this is Alex... Michael doesn't even want to think of what could happen. He knows Alex wouldn't be happy to see him here, to say the least.
Top of the stairs, then he waits. Still the sound isn't repeated, and Michael is trying to decide whether to make a break for it and get out of the house, or to write it off as the house settling and continue his search. And then he sees a shadow barely move down below and suddenly he can hear the blood pounding in his ears.
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The thought of going up the stars makes him swallow hard, but he has to. Someone is up there. And this is Callie's house. And he has to protect it while she is away.
Since he couldn't protect her.
Once he moves, he moves quickly enough, taking two steps at a time.
It's not Alexander. Or that other one. Mike. He looks young and scared and he had better be. He had better be.
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"Who are you? What are you doing in my sister's house?" He reaches for the railing on the stairs, not starting down them, though. He glances down at the carved figures in his hand, then puts them into his backpack. He wants his hands free, just in case.
He starts to back away from the stairs when the stranger starts up the stairs. He drops the backpack, to further free up his hands. He doesn't like the look on this guy's face, not one little bit.
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Clay shakes his head. Callie doesn't have a brother. She would have told him. And this guy doesn't look like her at all.
He reaches the landing and stops, staring at him. Why are you here? It's not formal sign-language, more a mix of hand movements and body language. Some understand it. Some don't. Callie always did. Perfectly.
Why are you here? This is Callie's home.
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Holding up a hand, Michael frowns. "Again. Say it again." He doesn't know if the man will actually comply, but it's worth a shot.
He doesn't blink, and his head cocks to one side. He's still wary, but now he's curious, too.
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He didn't expect that reaction. Clay stares at him and then repeats himself, a little surprised that he is actually complying.
But Alexander never understood him. He never tried. This guy is at least trying.
Why are you here? This is Callie's home.
And then, Callie lives here. She's gone now. But she'll come back. And she lives here. Insistent this time.
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"You know Callie? She used to live here." He is still watching the other man cautiously. "We sort of adopted each other. She's my sister. She chose me."
His chin juts out stubbornly. "And yeah, she'll be back. She's not dead, no matter what anyone tells me." He's expecting everyone to argue with him and it doesn't really register that this person seems to be in agreement.
ooc: No need to apologize, honest. I'm slow, too. Hope your work eases up a bit!
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She will.
He cants his head a little and then sticks out his hand. It's rough and calloused.
I am Clay. And Callie is - He pauses, looking a little distant for a moment. We lived together. In the Forest. I loved her. Another, smaller pause.
I love her.
Which is why he is here. And why he knows.
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Not stranger. He has a name now. Clay.
"Clay. I'm Michael."
He cautiously takes Clay's hand, clasping it firmly.
"Callie told me a little about the Forest. Not very much, but a little." He tries to remember if Callie mentioned Clay, and he can't. He finds that a little scary, that the few conversations he had with her are already fading in his memory. It makes him a little more belligerent than he might be, otherwise.
"She's not dead. I saw her... in a dream." Which is probably not all that convincing, to someone who doesn't know Michael's powers. "She was happy, but then she got scared. I'm trying to figure out how I can find her." He glances back over his shoulder at her room.
ooc: I'm so sorry. I didn't get a notif on your comment, and I finally went looking! *kicks LJ* You probably thought I'd bailed on you, but that is definitely not the case. My apologies.
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Someone agrees with him.
And the fact that Micheal says he has seen it in a dream just makes it more sound. Because that is the way it is. With Callie.
Yes. Yes, she is alive. I don't know where she is. She left with Alex and he is back. He says she is dead. But he is lying. The look on his face makes it easy to tell what he thinks about Alex.
Clay's grip is firm and warm.
The Forest was - we should never have come here. But we did. I let her down and we did and now I don't know where she is.
He pauses. I used to be able to talk with her. When she wasn't there. But it is harder now. Too much noise and distance. Maybe I've forgotten how.
She was never the one who disappeared. He did. And then she called him home.
How did she do it? How can he do the same?
He doesn't know.
*ooc - no worries. Such is life. And LJ*
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"Alex really thinks she's dead." He wavers on telling Clay about his run-in with Alex over Callie, and finally he just settles for part of it. "I was inside his mind. He couldn't lie to me, not when I could see what's in there. He really thinks she's gone." He frowns. "But I know she's not."
The frown smoothes out, and Michael gives Clay a tentative smile. "Callie doesn't hold grudges. But you probably know that."
He glances at his backpack, on the floor. "I don't know how find her though. I was hoping I'd find something here that would help me, but... I don't know what to look for here, either. I can use pictures to dreamwalk with her, but if she's drugged or something, I wouldn't be able to find her. And I'm not sure she even knows I'm there, either."
Michael runs a hand through his hair, frustration building the more he talks it through.
"Do you have any ideas at all? Where she might go, or something she might ... I don't know. Try to come back for or something?"
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At Michael's explanations about dreamwalking he cants his head a little. Listening.
Looking intently at Michael as he asks for something she might come back for. About pictures, links.
Can you get inside my head? he asks, suddenly almost eager. She wanted to go back. Home. She used to anyway. Maybe she still wants to do that? Or - she used to call me back. When I got lost. If she can, she will - if she thinks I am lost.
Except that he was never lost. Not really. He just went a little crazy - and went into the darkness. Eyes open wide. Feet running, body whipped by branches and caressed by the wind.
We can go there. It's all here - inside of me. We can go there and maybe she'll come?
Hopeful now.
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Michael looks at Clay uncertainly. "I can probably get into your head. But I don't know if... I'd be able to see thoughts and stuff like that. Most people aren't really all that comfortable with it. Like, who wants a total stranger in their head, you know?"
He has a hard time resisting the eager look on Clay's face, though. And really, he can't resist the idea that maybe, just maybe, it could be the key to finding Callie. He would hate to turn down anything that could possibly help.
Rubbing his eyes, he thinks for a moment. "Do you think she'd hear you? If I brought us all together in a dream?" He frowns, knowing it's possible to do. "Look. It's completely up to you. I can get into your head, but I won't do it without your permission." Michael shrugs slightly.
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Clay isn't going to start an argument. But some things are just facts. Alex's idiocy being one of them. In his mind at least.
He nods slowly at Michael's suggestion. She might be able to. Sometimes - sometimes I've dreamed of her. And we've talked. When she has been away. SO maybe she'll be able to hear me.
He rubs a a hand over his face. And I don't care about what you see. In my mind. I just want her to come back.
Really, he wants her to come home. But he knows that home to her might not be home to him any longer. Better to call it 'back' then. It hurts less.
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