As I've noticed that I have a tendency to filter things through the boys' P.O.V., we're going to try mixing it up a bit. After all, we could use a little peek into the minds of some of the others every once in a while. In a manner that's not one of our telepath friends knowing no bounds for personal privacy! I'm thinking Phoena's P.O.V. given the circumstances, so—without further adieu— hope you enjoy!
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Perhaps Phoena had been too defensive, in more ways than one. The moment Nim had taken an interest in Callan, her first instinct had been to wedge herself between the two and bat the Manabe away like an incessant pest. Like they were a vulture and the shifter a carcass they could pillage for their next meal. On one hand, she knew the curiosity was little more than a selfish desire to see their parents' work realized made respectable by the advantage it would give the Runeholders in their upcoming battles. If it worked, that was. On the other hand, she couldn't help wanting the eccentric Manabe to keep their distance. To keep their hands to themself— their theories to themself— so he wouldn't have to risk himself. He was making a habit of it, and the more Phoe grappled with her feelings, the harder it was for her to stand by and watch. He'd already been through enough, more than she'd even realized, yet they wanted to throw him right back into the fire. And if the blonde knew anything about Callan Dellal— about Orin Crue— she knew he'd do it. Not for his own sake but for theirs. High-minded as that was, it turned bitter inside her, piling onto the overwhelming swell of emotions that battled inside her.
She was still upset at him and mad at herself for being upset with him to boot. Because she knew that she was being unreasonable and that she had no right to feel as she did. Callan had countless memories tampered with, his entire childhood replaced without his knowledge or consent. Sachi had been on his own for three painful years, ridden with guilt, because of what Callan had been forced to forget, and the shifter had to come to terms with it all. As much as she might've wished she could help Cal through it deep down, the front she'd put up didn't lend itself to making that desire obvious. How could she expect him to rely on her when she readily pushed away his camaraderie— his affection and her own— and vilified it? She didn't have a leg to stand on, and her resentment was misguided. She knew all that but still couldn't squash the ache in her chest, that nagging part of her that had hoped against all sound reason that he'd entrust her with his burdens all the same. He'd kept that secret to himself, as much as a person could with two telepaths in their party, and she felt she owed it to him to respect that decision. It wasn't malicious. It was in his own self-interest, and the shapeshifter certainly had room to be more selfish. It wasn't his rune, but Callan's selflessness could compete with its true Runeholder's without question.
The blonde was busy fretting over their predicament, praying that Brady knew better than to poke around in her head after Cal had run off. She didn't need his unsolicited advice on the matter, and none was offered. With luck, that meant his focus was elsewhere. On the Manabe who'd pouted in disappointment and slumped on the bench beside the scattered research notes they'd fetched after Callan's disappearance. Phoe's gaze flicked in that direction. It was definitely a possibility with the other brooding as they were. Braedyn tended to latch onto darker moods like that, and as appearances went, Nim looked far more put out by the ordeal that Phoena did. Though, in reality, the human girl was simply masking it better.
"How long do you think this thinking of his is going to take him?" Nim asked, finally breaking that drawn out silence that had settled over the group.
"You did give him a lot to consider," Phoe said quietly, wringing her hands together.
Sachi placed his over their clasped form a moment later, squeezing them as if to soothe her. His assurance was welcome but hard to accept when his face was as troubled as her heart. "I'm sorry," he told her meekly, but Phoe shook her head the moment those repentant words left his lips.
"Don't be. You did what a good brother should." She didn't expect him to break Callan's trust for her sake. It was a miracle itself that the child had grown to like her at all given she'd tried to kill him when they'd first met. Yet there he was, comforting her. Upset that he'd played a part in a guiltless deception. How someone who'd been through what he had could have such a pure heart, Phoena couldn't begin to fathom. But Sachi did, and if anyone ought to have been feeling bad, it was her for all the grief she'd given him and Callan. She offered the boy a weak smile and slipped her hands away. Tucking them behind her back, she wove her fingers to keep from strumming them impatiently as they awaited both of their runaway Runeholders. "Thank you all the same."
Sachi nodded, taking that as cue to leave Phoe to her own devices.
"They'll be back soon enough." Numerous eyes turned to Brady at that declaration, and the telepath shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not listening, not really. Just enough to figure out that he and Sol crossed paths. It's more the presence of their thoughts rather than the actual substance that I'm sensing."
Erzia snickered at that, playfully ribbing her fellow telepath. "Aww, look who's all grown up and sharpening his skill set!" Which earned her a bashful grumble from Braedyn. Perhaps getting under people's skin was innate for their kind, but it was somewhat soothing to the blonde to see Brady riled.
Phoe wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so she opted for nothing, mulling Brady's discovery over in her head. It was for the best, she imagined, disheartening as it was to her. Sol's positivity and radiance would comfort Callan in a way that she couldn't. They'd sort it out, and once they did, they'd come back, and the group could proceed with their quest. Phoena was most thankful that doing so would give her a life-or-death matter to focus on, as jealousy wasn't becoming on her.
They spent that time waiting for the others with idle conversation. Erzia spoke with Dala and Merritt about the colony and what Adalin's upcoming memorial would entail. Brady had taken a seat beside Nimanuhn, his medicinal background making the research done by the Manabe's parents that much more fascinating to him, Nim offering further insight here and there as the telepath examined the documents. Phoe and Sachi, meanwhile, stood together in as comfortable a silence as their shared anxieties could muster, neither daring to tear their eyes away from the entrance to the tent. Not for a single second, as they both sought out the same familiar face.
Phoena wasn't quite sure how long it took. It could have been a few measly minutes, but to her, it felt like an eternity before the flap at the front of the tent rustled. Her shoulders tensed, and she blinked a few times to be sure her mind hadn't crafted the noise from nothingness to make a fool of her. But she wasn't imagining things as Soleil slipped into the commons with a quick wave. A sigh of relief fell unbidden from Phoe's lips as Cal followed soon after. Not soon enough to keep the blonde from fretting, but he'd returned, and his presence alone was enough to pacify her nerves.
Not entirely, but she wouldn't feel at peace until they talked. She glanced Sachi's way, giving the boy's shoulder a squeeze before she started in his brother's direction. She felt Callan's eyes on her, and she was nearly upon him in the few seconds that Cal had to distance himself from the door. This time, she would be the one to instigate a much needed conversation, and like him, she had zero intention of taking 'no' for an answer. At least he didn't have to worry about being in an indecent state... She batted that mortifying memory away and dug her heels into the dirt as she came to an abrupt stop before him. "We need to talk."
Whatever the shapeshifter had been expecting, it hadn't been that. The way his head tilted in question and the conviction he'd projected upon returning with Soliel deflated into uncertainty. Sol took one look between the two and scampered off to rejoin the rest of the group. It wasn't a private moment by any means, but the others were doing their best to keep out of it. Cal lowered his gaze to his feet, his voice soft as could be to keep this matter between the two of them. "We do. Look, I know you're angry, but please—"
Yes. I mean, no. Maybe so... Her thoughts were a mess. If either of their nosier sort were privy to them in that moment, she almost felt sorry for them. Almost, because the prospect of them doing just that had her blanching as her words warred with her desperate need to protect her reputation of strength and power. Convincing herself that admitting her wrongs was far more valiant than sticking her head in the sand to save face was easier said than done. Her voice cracked, loud enough to ring in her ears and make her cringe, as she latched onto Callan's elbow to stop him from saying more. "I'm sorry."
His head jerked up, and he only grew more confused as the amber of his eyes set on hers, ensnaring her like the sap itself. "Why are you sorry?"
Phoe swallowed roughly, her grip on his arm tightening to keep her hands from shaking. She let out a long breath, hoping she'd sound more level this time around. "You didn't owe me an explanation about anything, but I guilted you into feeling like you did because my feelings were hurt." She hated how pathetic that sounded, but it was the truth. "That was cruel of me, and what you found out was already a heavy burden to bear. It wasn't fair for me to add to that pressure to feed my own ego and self-importance. I was in the wrong... so I'm sorry." Holding onto him, Phoe felt when his demeanor shifted during her apology.
My own ego and self-importance.
She'd seen the frown slowly creeping up on hips lips from the beginning but had simply hurried along to say what needed to be said. But those few words had his hands clenching, a stiffness to his body that hadn't been there before. His words were sharp, and if his gaze hadn't pinned her there before, it did now. She would've forgotten to breathe if not for the exasperated puff the shifter gave. "You do realize that you are important to me, don't you? It wasn't that I didn't want to tell you, I just didn't know how. I was too busy letting guilt, regret, and betrayal bury me alive that I forgot I'm not alone and I don't have to get through this by myself. I know you care. Your actions speak for themselves, even when you can't admit it yourself. I should have taken that into consideration."
He'd gotten bolder, and the implication had Phoena releasing his arm like the touch had branded her skin. He just had to insist that she hadn't inflated her own relevance. She mattered enough to tell; he just didn't have the words when his world was crumbling around him. She couldn't possibly blame him for that, though she did wish he hadn't used her fondness for him— however much she feigned ignorance at its existence— as a point of contention. As if her feelings for him, whatever he thought they might be in that moment, elevated the affront of his secret-keeping because she wanted to be there for him. It did, but the blonde wouldn't dream of admitting as much to him. She already felt vulnerable enough as it was; she wasn't about to bear her heart and soul when there was so much at stake. Maybe once they finished their quest and tied up all the loose ends, the promise of security and safety would be enough for her to let him get closer. But for now, she had to keep Callan at arm's length, which meant pretending she hadn't pondered too deeply what he meant. "I know." She forced a smile to her lips, despite how fragile she felt inside, where he couldn't see her crumbling. "We're all a team, after all. Friends. It means a lot that you'd take my feelings in such high regard."
It stung even more to watch as his eyes fell away from hers and he slowly nodded. "Right."
She could've told him the truth, like how when he looked at her like the sun rose and set by her command, she felt more alive than she'd ever thought she could. For as much as he frustrated and challenged her— and boy, did he frustrate and challenge her— she couldn't imagine her world without him in it anymore. He was vibrant and being in his presence bathed her in colors she'd never dreamed existed.
She could've taken it back the moment she'd said it— told him that she didn't mean it and she knew exactly what he meant. She was terrified, but she wanted him by her side all the same. Admit that she was more than willing to carry his burdens like they were her own if it meant that she lessened even a fraction of his pain. When he felt weak and downtrodden, she'd be his strength.
She could've told him that her heart was breaking just as much as his to call him friend... that he could take the fractured mess that was her feelings and do with them as he pleased. She trusted him with her heart more than she trusted herself.
She could've told him that she was hopeless when it came to love, but if he still wanted her, she was his.
But she didn't. She wasn't that brave...
Instead, she turned away, her face falling immediately once her back was to him. "I'm glad we could sort that out. Thank you for letting me get that off my chest. Have you decided on Nim's proposal?" She nodded in the direction of the others, the Manabe in question in particular. Changing the subject was the only lifeline she had to cling to, and as she'd expected, Cal didn't call her on it. Denial was a bitter pill to swallow, even more so when forced upon someone who deserved better. Honesty and empathy, not callous falsehoods. She could regret and repent later. For now, she had their mission to keep her preoccupied.
"Yeah, I think I have."
The roughness in his speech made her glad she wasn't looking at him as she plastered an unfettered facade over the misery of her self-inflicted heartache. "Good. Let's not keep them waiting then."