Fic: Let's Be More Than This (7/19) [The Covenant, OT4, FRAO/NC-17]
Title: Let's Be More Than This - Chapter 7
Author: mickey_sixx
Fandom: The Covenant
Pairing: Caleb Danvers/Pogue Parry/Reid Garwin/Tyler Simms (eventual), Reid Garwin/Tyler Simms (established)
Rating: FRAO/NC-17/M
Word Count: ~67K (yeah, it's an epic)
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. I do not own them!
Beta: Sam | hawk_dancing (Thank you so much! *smishes*) & barefoot_starz ♥
WARNING! This fic contains scenes of a graphic sexual nature between two (three... eventually four) men. If this offends you, please do not read.
Summary: The last of the old Covenant has died, leaving the new Generation to carry on the legacy, but Caleb soon discovers there is more to the Power than he'd previously thought. Friendships will be tested and secrets revealed as the Sons of Ipswich find out what it really means to be one of the Covenant.
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 7
The smell of bacon hovered at the edges of his senses and Caleb took a deep breath in, taking in the mouth-watering smell, and then let it out slowly. He rolled on to his back and brought his hands up to rub the sleep away from his eyes. Yet another restless night, plagued with dreams of hot, steamy sex and toe-curling orgasms. Caleb had taken to sound-proofing his room, and it was a good job too; he'd very nearly screamed twice during the night with the intensity of his dreams. He heaved a tired sigh; how much more of this could he take?
Grabbing a pair of sweats from the floor, he made his way downstairs and followed the smell to the kitchen, but he stopped short when he reached the doorway. His mom stood at the stove, dressed in black slacks and a white blouse, frying bacon in the pan. A sense of nostalgia overwhelmed him and Caleb had to blink a couple of times to rid himself of the tears that gathered in his eyes. It had been a really long time since his mother had been up to cook breakfast on a Saturday morning. Usually she was passed out in the drawing room or up in her room if she'd managed to get there, drunk and alone and wallowing in her own self pity.
As if she'd felt him staring, Evelyn Danvers turned from the stove and graced him with a small smile. "Good morning."
Instead of answering, Caleb walked up to her and wrapped her in his large arms. He felt choked with sudden emotion and he tried to swallow to keep himself from breaking down, but it was hard. Warm hands patted and rubbed his back soothingly, returning the embrace after a second of shocked hesitation.
"I've missed you," Caleb said, voice thin and quiet as he tried to keep his emotions in check. Evelyn leaned out of the hug and placed a loving hand on his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin gently.
"I know, baby," she replied, her own eyes shiny with unshed tears, "I know."
Caleb cleared his throat and gave her a tremulous smile, which she returned before she reached over to turn out the gas. Caleb backed off a little and took a seat at the breakfast bar, swiping at the wetness around his eyes and just watching his mother as she moved around the kitchen, finding a plate and some bread to make him a sandwich. It was just like when he was a kid, before his dad succumbed to the Power, before his mom turned to the drink to numb the pain and the heartache of losing him like she did. A sadness settled over him; he wasn't a kid anymore and people didn't just change overnight.
"What's changed?"
She looked uncomfortable at the sudden question, but then she sighed and turned to the breakfast bar, placing the sandwich in front of him. She took the seat opposite and set both hands on the table, looking down at the painted nails and the weathered skin.
"Everything."
A tired sigh escaped him and he leaned both elbows on the surface, one hand running over his face. His sudden emotional outburst had settled down to give him a clear dose of reality. "Mom, you can't just act like the last five years never happened."
"I'm not," She replied, lifting her eyes to his. Irritation niggled at Caleb.
"So what's all this?" He asked, using his other hand to motion to the sandwich and the stove. "I can't even remember the last time you were sober enough to be awake this early in the morning, much less cook breakfast."
Evelyn's eyes sharpened in warning, "Caleb-"
"No, mom, it's true," He shook his head and met her gaze head on. "I've looked after you since I was fourteen. I was the one that put you to bed when you had too much to drink. I was the one that had to wake you and dress you when you couldn't do it yourself. I was the one that had to make excuses for you when you couldn't make PTA meetings because you were too drunk. Making breakfast for me isn't going to make that better."
She reached over and caught his free hand with both her own, her eyes full of regret and guilt. "I know," she said, sounding choked with her own emotions, "I know it doesn't, but I'm trying, Caleb."
"Are you?"
Evelyn nodded, "I'm not going to excuse what I did and how I've behaved. I took the easy way out and I'm so sorry you had to sacrifice your own happiness for me." A tic started in Caleb's jaw, but he didn't interrupt. She sighed softly, "I loved your father, very much, and when I had you I thought that I'd stay happy forever. But when he became addicted to the Power, my world fell apart. My husband wasn't my husband anymore and I couldn't cope with that, so I drowned myself in my own sorrow."
"That still doesn't explain this," he said quietly, staring down at their hands.
"I will always love William, but a part of me will never be able to forgive him for what he put us through. The first burial was like rubbing salt into the wound; to the rest of the world he was dead but to me he was still alive, and as long as he was still here, I couldn't stop myself from feeling the pain of what he'd done. I couldn't let go of him until he was truly gone." She gave him a sad smile, "It sounds callous, but now he's moved on; it's about time I did too." Caleb didn't speak. "I know it's not going to be easy. I've got a problem and it's not going to be resolved over night, but I'm working on it."
He finally lifted his eyes to hers, "Why? Why now?"
His mother's smile turned gentle, "Because when you have a child, you are expected to take care of them and love them even through your darkest days. Instead it was you who had to take care of me, and I was selfish enough to let it happen. I want to make up for that, Caleb, I want to be a mother to you again. If you'll let me."
Caleb didn't say anything. A part of him wanted to scream at her and tell her that he'd been hurting too, but he knew that it wouldn't achieve anything. She was right; it wasn't going to be easy. There was a lot of pain and resentment between them that wasn't just going to go away. As much as he loved her, there were times when he'd hated her guts too.
"You're my mother and I love you," he said slowly, eyes back to focusing on his their hands. "But I... I need time. You hurt me too and it's going to take a lot more than breakfast and a heart-to-heart to make it right." He paused and turned his palm over, curling his fingers around her hand, "But it's a start."
She squeezed her son's hand gently, emotion clouding her voice again, "Let's just take it one step at a time, ok?"
He nodded. Hope stirred inside of him. It was going to be a long and hard road, but maybe now was the time to start healing that rift. He'd already lost one parent, he didn't want to lose the other too.
~*~*~*~
It was weird to be out on a Saturday and not have any contact with his best friends. It was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning, Pogue was usually just getting up and calling him on his cell to see what he was doing. Caleb glanced down to his cell phone automatically; it sat silently in the holder between the car seats, not even a flicker from the screen to let him know he had a message. His shook his head slightly and he moved his eyes back to the road, fingers tightening a fraction on the wheel as he navigated through familiar back roads. He hadn't seen them in over a week now. All attempts to contact him had been ignored and he'd skipped out of the classes he had with them.
On one hand, he knew that he couldn't see them. Not while he was in this state. There was no telling what he'd do if he got too close to them. On the other, he missed them so much it physically hurt. It was almost like he'd lost a limb.
He took the next right turn out of habit and then cursed under his breath when he realized where he was heading. The car slowed as the dirt track widened out and then came to a stop by the crooked fence that surrounded the old property. Caleb killed the engine and leaned back into his seat, staring up at the Colony house. It was an integral part of Ipswich's history and had been in Caleb's family since the late eighteen-hundreds. It had also been his father's home for the last five years, knowing that no-one would accidentally find him there. Especially not with Gorman keeping watch.
Caleb's eyes caught the slight twitching of a curtain and his lips quirked. Gorman knew he was here. With an amused shake of his head, he got out of the car and headed towards the house. The door opened slowly as he made his way up the path and Gorman greeted him at the door with a brusque nod. The teenager stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he entered the dark house, feeling the oppressive atmosphere as soon as he stepped over the threshold.
But that wasn't the only thing he felt. A shiver of something passed over his soul and Caleb immediately turned to the left, eyes falling on the old wooden door hidden in the corner. Nobody would even know it was there unless someone pointed it out. Nobody but the four Son's anyway.
The door to the Vaults.
The book said the Vaults had been built as soon as the house had, using it as cover for their magical heritage, and while family members had been born and died in this house, the Vaults had been the only place in existence that was safe. He stared, unable to look away and not knowing why. A distant, low beat teased his hearing and he frowned, feeling a sudden pull all the way down in his soul. He started towards it.
"Caleb."
The teenager stopped and blinked, foot falling back to the floor without actually taking a step. The beat was gone, as was the strange pull he felt towards the old door. He frowned at himself and turned to Gorman, who looked at him strangely from the hallway. Caleb shook the thoughts from his head, "Hey Gorman," he said, trying to get back on even footing, "You ok?"
The older man nodded in return and lead Caleb through to the kitchen where he was making tea. The teenager took a seat at the small, round table in the corner and waited for the other man to finish up with his routine. Gorman was as much a mystery as the origins of the Power; he'd been a friend of the family ever since he could remember and Caleb had always taken it at face value, never questioning why or how. He was just... there; he knew about the Power and he cared for his father when he got worse.
One day, he was going to find out what his deal was.
A large cup was placed on the table in front of him and Caleb smiled, letting the smell of sweet, fresh tea tickle his nose. He nodded in thanks to the older man as he took the seat opposite him, and picked up his cup to sip at the steaming hot liquid.
"What brings you here, lad?" The old, rough voice was quiet and calm and some part of Caleb was instantly soothed at the sound.
He shrugged and set his cup down again, "Nothing, I just... I'm just used to taking that turning, I guess." Gorman stared at him hard, dark eyes boring holes into him. Caleb squirmed under the gaze; he couldn't fool Gorman for a second, no matter how hard he tried. "I don't know," he answered more truthfully.
"You've not been sleeping." It was a statement rather than a question. A flush crept up along his neck and Caleb busied himself with taking another sip of tea to avoid meeting his eyes. He heard Gorman snort and then drink his own tea. "Hiding from them isn't going to solve the problem, Caleb."
Eyes widened and Caleb choked on the hot liquid. Gorman handed him some tissues and regarded him from across the table, the slight quirk of his lips clearly showing his amusement.
"Jesus, Gorman," he said between coughs and splutters. Sometimes the old coot was too intuitive for his own good.
"I watched your father go through the same thing."
Caleb had calmed enough so that he could breathe without coughing and he rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Can we not talk about this right now?" He stood from the kitchen table, leaving his tea, and moved into the back room. He didn't want to go through his again. He'd heard the same thing from his mother.
The backroom, as he'd half expected, was filled with cardboard boxes of various sizes. His father's possessions. Most of these had been boxed up for years, hidden away in the attic out of sight until the time finally came to get them all down again. Caleb came up short, looking around at what was essentially his father's life condensed to a pile of boxes, and a wave of sadness washed through him. Deep inside he knew that it wasn't anyone's fault but his father's, and yet Caleb still couldn't help feeling that it was unfair.
He sighed and moved forward to one of the closest boxes, letting his hand run over the textured cardboard. Keen hearing picked up the sound of the floorboards creaking, knowing that Gorman had followed him, but Caleb ignored it in favour of lifting the flaps and looking inside the box.
"Idiot," the old man said fondly, "You think it's just about the sex?"
Caleb cringed and continued to ignore him, his attention caught by the items the box held. This one seemed to hold journals and notebooks and other miscellanea that he'd used on a daily basis. Slowly, carefully, is if they were going to break, Caleb picked up the first two items that lay in the box. Photo frames. Memories. The first picture was of himself and his mom, although he barely remembered the day it was taken. It was Christmas, judging by the glimpse of the tree at the edge of the photograph. He couldn't have been more than five years old, grin wide and full of innocence while his mom held him close and told him to smile for daddy. He got a bike that Christmas. A sad pang echoed in his chest, the child in him mourning the loss of the man who had taught him to ride it.
His eyes moved from one scene to another. The second photograph was of four young men, all smiling and holding on to each other like best friends. He'd seen this one before, sat pride of place on the mantle with the photograph of himself and his mother, but he never stayed in the room long enough to get a good look at either of the snap shots. On the surface it just looked like any group photograph; just four best friends hanging out at a party and posing for a shot. But the longer he stared, he began to realize that this wasn't just friends. It was subtle; the way their arms and their hands held on to each other, their body language. That told a whole different story.
"Your father nearly destroyed them." Caleb jumped a little as Gorman's voice sounded closer than before. He'd been so focused on the photos that he hadn't heard the older man move. "He wasn't ready for what was happening to them. He didn't trust the bond they had." He reached out and gently took the silver frame from Caleb's hand, looking down on the four of them fondly, like a parent would, pain flickering in the wizened depths. "Luckily I was able to knock some sense into him and everything worked out." The old man looked up at Caleb and pinned him with an intense stare, "I won't let you make the same mistakes."
Reaching inside the box with his other hand, Gorman carefully plucked out a brown, leather bound journal from the small stack and turned it over to Caleb. A frown creased his brow as the teenager held the book in his hands. Looking back and forth between Gorman and the book, he opened the front cover carefully, the leather cracking and creaking a little in the hushed silence. Caleb was surprised to find that sandwiched between the cover and the front page was an old, off-white envelope emblazoned with a name in black ink.
His name.
"He wanted you to have this one," Gorman said, watching his young protégé guardedly. "It was the journal he kept during his teen years. It will help you figure it out."
Caleb didn't know what to say. He stared at the envelope lying inside the book until a warm hand on his shoulder caused him to look up. Gorman's expression was uncharacteristically gentle as he regarded him.
"Take your time, Caleb," He said, "But don't take too long. Those boys need you just as much as you need them."
He swallowed and looked down at the part of his father's life he held in his hands, feeling the old man's words shake his very core. He needed to understand.
This was the only way.
~*~*~*~
Saturday afternoon
Reid sighed, the sound barely carrying over the rush of water through the pipes as the toilet flushed. He dropped his head back to the pillow, eyes fixed on the ceiling while he listened to sounds coming from the bathroom attached to his room; the water from the tap, the hollow sounds of a toothbrush scrubbing over teeth and tongue, the faint gagging noises that followed. The ghost of a frown creased his brow; something was going on, that much he knew. He'd never seen Tyler like this before and he was getting worried. Something was troubling him, but he wouldn't say what.
The water stopped running and a minute later, Tyler gingerly emerged from the bathroom, still looking green.
"So are you going to tell me what's going on or do I gotta guess?"
The youngest glanced at Reid as he spoke, quickly taking in his position on the bed; outstretched with both arms behind his head, shirtless, with one eyebrow cocked in his direction. His jeans were still on, but un-zipped and open to expose the black boxer briefs underneath. Tyler looked away and swallowed, unable to look him in the eye. They were half way to getting it on, both of them pulling at each other's clothes in a race to get naked, but then Tyler balked and shot to the bathroom to throw up before he could even get Reid out of his pants.
Reid sighed, exasperated, "What, the sight of me sickens you now or something?"
Tyler's head shot up, eyes round as they fixed on Reid once more, "What? No, god no, never!"
The blond snorted in amusement at Tyler's quick denial and lifted himself up on his elbows, "So what's the deal?" He asked, head tilting to the side as he regarded his boyfriend, "The past week you've been jumpy, biting my head off for no reason, and now this? C'mon, Ty, what's going on?"
The brunette shook his head and reached up to scratch behind his ear, "Nothing, ok, I'm just stressed about exams and stuff."
"Bullshit," Came Reid's immediate answer to the excuse, "It was a bullshit answer the last time, and it’s still a bullshit answer now." The blond frowned and moved to sit up, crossing his legs under him and ignoring the fact that his jeans were still open. Blue eyes narrowed, "And don't say you're 'fine' either, because I've heard that word enough from Caleb to last me a fuckin' lifetime."
Tyler's stomach clenched at the mention of the older boy's name. The guilt was like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. He was literally sick with it; with the worry that Reid was going to find out and break up with him, or even worse, hate him for his betrayal. He'd silently agonized over his actions for the past week, feeling worse as the days dragged on. Every time he looked at his boyfriend, his heart pounded and he felt sick. The thought of losing what he had with the blond was killing him.
"Ty?" He looked up, suddenly realizing that Reid had moved off the bed to stand in front of him, blue eyes swimming with concern. Tyler flinched at the look. "What's going on?"
"I... it..." His heart twisted inside his chest. Nothing, I'm ok, really I am. I'm just being stupid, Reid, worrying about things, that's all. Stupid little things. I'll be fine, I just need to figure some stuff out. He could have said any number of things, but Tyler knew he couldn't keep up the pretence any longer. "I kinda cheated on you," There was a pregnant pause. "With Caleb."
The hushed, pained words hung in the still air between them, making everything ten times worse. Tyler waited, preparing himself for the storm that was going to hit any second, and after what seemed like forever, he lifted his eyes from the floor to meet Reid's head on.
It was a mistake.
Reid looked like the floor had literally just dropped out from under his feet. He hadn't moved a muscle since Tyler had spoken, only his eyes gave him away; the blue orbs shimmering with a thousand different emotions. Hurt, confusion, betrayal, anger, shock. Tyler couldn't stand to look at them anymore and moved his eyes to the wall over Reid's shoulder.
"Wh... what did you just say?"
Tyler swallowed and mumbled, "Do you really want me to say it again?"
He let out a strangled, shocked laugh, which was devoid of any kind of amusement. "I'm sorry, I swear you just told me that you cheated on me... with Caleb." Tyler's face heated, but he didn't answer. "The fuck, Tyler?"
"I'm sorry, ok?!" He burst out, face crumbling, "I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did, and then I couldn't stop it-"
"When?" Reid asked, backing away from Tyler until there was a safe distance between them. Tyler didn't answer, "When, goddammit!"
"Last week," Tyler swallowed, feeling sick all over again, "Last week. I-I didn't mean... I was just trying to get him to tell me what was wrong-"
"What, so you fucked the answer out of him?"
The words stung like a slap and he forced himself to face Reid's answer, "No! God, no, I would never.... I would never do that to you! You're the only guy-"
Reid's face said that he clearly didn't believe that, "Sure, and how many times have you given it up to Caleb while you've been with me, huh? He better than me? Is that it?"
Every word was like a punch to the gut. How could he even think-? Tyler's emotions did a 180, his pain and hurt turning into anger at Reid's cruel verbal attack. He glared at the blond, meeting his outrage head on.
"I'm not a fucking whore, Garwin, don't treat me like one!" He hissed, feeling everything in him burn, "I've loved you since I was fifteen, nothing will ever change that, so don't you dare accuse me of sleeping around. He kissed me, ok? He kissed me and then I was against the wall and I couldn't do a damn thing-"
Tyler knew instinctively when he made his second mistake. Blue eyes flared with white hot anger as soon as the words had fallen from his lips and all Tyler wanted to do was take the words and stuff them back into his mouth again. His stomach dropped.
"So he came onto you first? He started it?"
Tyler flailed for a moment, "Does it matter? Look, I'm sor-"
"Just answer the fuckin' question!" Reid roared.
He swallowed, "Y-yes. Yeah, he... he started it-" Reid was already fastening his pants and pulling on his shirt and Tyler felt the room spin around him. He shook his head, starting towards him as the blond grabbed his jacket from the chair and his car keys from the side table. "Reid. Reid c'mon, please don't do anything stu-"
The blond turned and just as he reached the door, roughly shaking off Tyler's hand and glaring at him. Tyler flinched at the pure fury in the ice blue depths.
"Don't. Touch me," he said, voice thick with anger and hurt.
He stood frozen to the spot as he watched Reid leave the room, his rage showing in every line of his body. Tyler jumped as the door slammed shut behind him, his breath catching in his chest while his own anger drained out of him. How was he going to fix this? How was this ever going to be right again? Shaking fingers pulled his cell phone from his pocket, a dry sob escaping him as he fumbled with the device, flipping it open and scrolling down in haste to find the one person he needed right now. His desperation increased with every ring, finding himself inching closer to hyperventilating as the dial tones continued. Then, finally, someone picked up.
"Pogue... shit, I need your help..."
On to Chapter 8