Over the Tracks (MxM)

3-

"Get up, halfblood."

Caleb blinked his eyes open, rubbing the sleep from them. It felt like he had slept all day - which he wouldn't be surprised if he had - but also like he had just fallen asleep. Then again, he never slept well; a bare closet floor was hard to sleep on. When he rolled just enough to see Melanie staring down at him, he quickly scrambled to his feet. Without even waiting for his senses to come around, she took a hold of his arm, dragging him to the bathroom just like the previous day, but this time with a different set of clothes.

He thought he looked good in the deep red, long-sleeved v-neck that was paired with the dark wash of jeans and same black sneakers, but according to Melanie, it was still missing something. He was standing at the door seconds later with an additional dark blue, almost black jacket. "Go for a walk, not where you did yesterday. Understood? And don't you dare slip up if you see that hunter again, or any other human." Her voice had lowered to a snarl by the time she threw him out the door, making him stumble to keep from falling. His gaze lifted just in time to see the door slam in his face.

He, for once, didn't want to take a walk. He just wanted to sleep, and rest, but no. He wouldn't be able to now. But at least he could get some fresh air... Sighing, he made his body move in a random direction, still aching from previously. The medicine that had been applied must have worn off at some point while he was sleeping, so the pain was back full force, but at least in that time his body had healed the worst of it, leaving just an uncomfortable throb.

Caleb walked parallel to where he knew the train tracks ran, since he was apparently not allowed to take his normal route. He started to cut over through the trees after a while in their direction, content to continue in the new direction once the tracks were just in sight past the numerous tree trunks. He was so focused on watching them that he didn't realize the forest thinned out up ahead until the trunks blocking his view of the tracks, and the city beyond, abruptly became much more sparse.

Blinking in surprise, he turned his gaze to what he now stood in front of. A graveyard..? I didn't know there was one out here... His brow furrowed in confusion as he stepped forward past the short wall surrounding it that was clearly more for decoration than functionality, although it was unkempt and had cracks in a spiderweb pattern all over it. The whole place was overgrown, weeds and ivy climbing over the weathered gravestones and the graves themselves. He weaved his way between them, looking at them curiously before halting in front of three particular ones that caught his attention. They looked no different than any other one there, but the names engraved on the stones...

On the left: Diane Landen.

On the right: Jim Landen.

The middle one, unlike the ones on either side, did not appear to have an actual grave, yet it still had a headstone. The letters were faded, like most of the others, but he could still make out what it read. Caleb Landen.

They... they thought I was... dead...

It hit him hard, but even harder came the realization that his family had died while he was gone. He had held a thin tendril of hope that maybe someday, he would escape this and return to them, and they'd be a whole, happy family again, just like before. It had been that faint hope that helped him push through the tortuous years. But now, that could never happen. The hope was gone. I never even got to say goodbye... Unable to fight back the tears that squeezed out of his blinking eyes, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, letting the flow start streaming down his face as he sobbed hard enough to make his entire body shake. He didn't even notice that there was another presence in the graveyard until a hand settled atop his right shoulder, eliciting a flinch.

The man he had seen previously, the hunter he assumed, was standing beside him, behind him just enough that he had to turn his head to look at him. Caleb's sorrow mixed with a combination of fear and desire for death as he looked up at him, but the man simply hooked his gun back up to whatever was holding it across his back and knelt beside him. A roughly textured but careful hand wiped across his cheek, smearing the salty tears that ran down like a small waterfall. Rather than offer a condolence or some other verbalized sympathy, he just stayed there with him, a better comfort than words could provide. Caleb's arms, trembling too hard to continue to support his weight on them, gave out, sending him to the ground. The man, however, caught him and lowered him slowly so the impact wouldn't hurt.

Caleb couldn't calm down for several more minutes, but when he finally did, he rubbed his hands over his eyes and cheeks to get rid of as much moisture as he could before looking back up at the hunter. Unlike the last time they had met, his face was not the expressionless mask it had been, but it wore a clear empathy that Caleb somehow found slightly comforting. It took the man several times repeating himself before Caleb noticed he was even speaking in a quiet voice, but above a whisper. "Hey. You ok, kid?"

Does it look like I am? Despite the obvious answer, he lied. "Y-yes," he stuttered, voice cracking on just the one word.

"You're not." The man's hand once more drifted across his skin, wiping away a few more tears Caleb hadn't realized escaped his eyes. "Was that your family?" When he just nodded, not trusting his voice, the man returned the gesture, seeming to stare into space as he spoke to the silence. "I lost mine three years ago."

Caleb didn't reply. He didn't know how to. He felt sick... and moments later, he had to unsteadily lift himself up a bit as his extremely upset stomach emptied its few contents, mostly the stomach acid, onto the grass. He could feel the man's hand on his back, but didn't pay it any mind as he focused on not falling into the small pile of puke as his body continued its attempts to retch, now nothing coming out at all except for a little bit of spit and several dry coughs. It felt like he was going to throw up his stomach itself. By the time his body was finished, he went limp, only to be held up under the arms by the man and gently positioned on his side on his lap. The man's hand slowly moved in circles on his back that he barely felt as the familiar darkness crept up on his vision. He wasn't aware of being picked up until he was already in the man's arms, but he wouldn't let himself be carried anywhere by this man. He no longer feared him, but that didn't mean he would trust him.

He was set on his feet after only a minute of squirming weakly in the man's loose hold. The two stared at each other as Caleb slowly backed up, only to be stopped by the man speaking again. "At least tell me your name, kid."

He hesitated, then whispered, "C-Caleb."

The man nodded, saying one last word before Caleb ran off. "Chris."

Caleb ran back to the house quickly, stopping just out of sight and behind a tree to catch his breath. If he went back in before his adrenaline calmed, it would be obvious that he was running, which was the last thing he wanted. Sucking in a breath, he slowly made his way to the door after several long seconds.

"About time you got home, halfblood," Kent growled, grabbing him by the shoulder painfully. "Where'd you go, hm?"

"Melanie sent him out. Another distraction to the humans, she said," Eliza stated, walking up and watching without interfering.

"When does she get to make all the decisions around here?" Kent's temper was on the verge of breaking free of control. Sensing it, Eliza shrugged and walked away, leaving a trembling Caleb and angry Kent. "You seem to have recovered enough from Treston, so I think it's my turn for a little time with the punching bag." Before he had time to flinch, a punch had him hitting the wall, followed by numerous other punches and a few kicks. By the time the flurry stopped, he had succumbed to the darkness once again.