THE END OF EVERYTHING AND ANYTHING
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in which caleb moore learns what grief is and will byers returns home to find his best friend shattered and scarred
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the halocline | the upside down
〖 i scream your name, as blood bursts from my veins 〗
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tw : mentions/depictions of attempted overdose, idealising of suicide
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EMPTINESS WAS a familiar concept to Caleb - he felt it on his best days and often forced himself to feel it on his worst. But the feeling that had accompanied Eleven's death was indistinguishable - because emptiness was supposed to be numb and void, but this one hallowed him out from the inside and made him ache all over.
That was all he had been doing - aching - ever since he woke from his grief-induced stupor. He ached as Mike cradled him in the ambulance, he ached when Karen Wheeler forced the both of them into a tight embrace and cried into their shoulders, and he ached when the Wheelers sat him in the back of their car and told them of Will's homecoming.
The ache continued to throb and pulse as he waited for permission to see his friend, who's long-awaited arrival had been tainted by the loss of Eleven. Mike had his head rested on his shoulder, reaching out of his comfort zone to try and offer the boy some form of condolence that Caleb refused to accept. He didn't need sympathy, he didn't need comfort or a shoulder to cry on - he needed to break something, to rid himself of this insufferable agony.
Caleb had been staring down at the floor with this rage building inside of him since they arrived, unblinking and unresponsive even when Lucas and Dustin tried to strike a conversation with him before the two fell asleep.
Mike, on the other hand, had been trying to force the grief out of his mind and replace it with optimism about seeing Will again - but it was proving rather difficult when his only available distraction was too busy glaring at the floor to even answer a simple question.
Eventually the silence became unbearable and Mike nudged the boy's elbow, lifting his head from his shoulder to look at him. Caleb blinked, said nothing. "Caleb. Cay, come on. Caleb. You have to say something. Are you even breathing right now?"
Caleb squirmed and tilted his head to the side when Mike teasingly placed two fingers to his pulse, but again gave no reply.
Mike sagged against the harsh metal of the waiting room, trying his best not to let his frustration overpower his empathy. "Look, I know. I know, okay? But - but we're gonna see Will now! That's good, right? Caleb?" He sighed when he was left unanswered yet again, "We don't even know what happened - she's probably fine, I mean, this is El we're talking about-"
"She's dead." Caleb spoke barrenly, the ache deepening when he finally said the words aloud, that painful emptiness taking over his senses once again as his fists tightened in his lap. "Accept that now and it won't hurt as much later."
"But-"
"Caleb Moore? Is there a Caleb Moore here?" A skittish woman in a nurse uniform stepped into the waiting room, causing each of the room's occupants to look up curiously.
Caleb startled out of his daze, glancing around to find whoever had called him and finding a lot more people in the room than he remembered being there. Karen and Ted were conversing quietly in one corner of the room while Nancy, an unfamiliar boy with wavy brown hair and - to Caleb's bafflement - Steve Harrington spoke in hushed tones in the other corner. He remembered the Chief being there - staring at Caleb intently with a sense of urgency but not saying anything - and surmised that the man had stepped out for a cigarette considering his absence. Joyce and Jonathan were huddled together in the seats next to the door, eagerly awaiting the doctor's permission to visit Will.
He stood to his feet shakily when he saw the nurse and gave her a questioning look, blinking the dryness out of his eyes. The woman offered him a warm smile, holding the door open behind her and gesturing for him to follow. "The Chief demanded you be seen to by one of our doctors. Come with me, honey."
Caleb shrugged, feeling several gazes on his back as he shuffled out of the room after the nurse but not even considering the reason for their wariness until the door closed behind him. He stopped in his tracks, stepping away from her and regarding the woman with a distrustful scowl when she turned to look at him in confusion. "Did the Chief really send you for me or is this just some trick so you people can lock me up again? I'm done being your test subject, I'm not letting you put your hands on me again-"
"Oh, no, no! That's not - this is the hospital wing, dear, we don't associate with... the people upstairs." The woman wore a pained grimace at the mention of Brenner's people, a pitying crease in her brow. "You're perfectly safe with me, honey, I promise you that. Those people can't hurt you anymore."
"I don't believe you." Caleb replied, trailing after her nevertheless. Maybe the Lab would actually kill him this time. Maybe he wouldn't have to ache anymore.
He forced himself into a calm and suave demeanour as the nurse led him to the private doctor's room at the end of the hall in fear of someone noticing the downward spiral his mind was currently enduring and deciding that he wasn't stable enough to be out and about. There was no way he was getting sent to a fucking pysch ward at a time like this. If that meant stalling his (admittedly unethical) grieving process,
then so be it.
The nurse knocked on the door quietly before entering, muttering something Caleb couldn't hear. She took a step back to allow him entry, giving him a warm smile and disappearing around the corner as the boy entered the room. He glanced around, nose wrinkling at the sight of the pristine walls and the glaring silver medical equipment and how much it reminded him of all the other hospitals and infirmaries he had been to over the years.
He usually found comfort in repetition, but it was in cases like this that it left an itch on his brain he couldn't quite scratch.
The doctor was younger than he expected - possibly in his early or mid-twenties - but everything else about him was entirely predictable from the white lab coat to the blue scrubs and the reassuring smile on his face that said 'your grandmother's dead, have a lollipop'. Doctor smiles annoyed Caleb to an unreasonable degree - they reeked of artificial kindness and greed and reminded him too much of his current foster father.
"Hello, Caleb!" The man chirped with a faint Southern twang, patting the examination table and pulling the blue latex gloves over his hands with a cheerful smile. "My name's Doctor Halford, but you can call me Spencer. I hear you've been in a bit of trouble these past few days - let's see what I can help you out with, hm?"
"Spencer Halford?" Caleb faltered, taking a tentative seat on the examination table and surveying the man's features - same honey eyes, same dark blonde curls. Holy shit. Joel had spoken of his younger brother on several occasions, but Caleb never thought that he would actually meet him - and especially not in these circumstances. "I... uh, nevermind."
Spencer frowned slightly but remained cheerful, pulling a set of bifocals from his breast pocket and setting them on the bridge of his nose. "Alright, I suppose the stab wound is a good place to start. Could you lift your shirt for me please, plumb?"
Caleb stalled at the petname, memories of late night passionate ramblings and cheeky banter filling his chest with a cold kind of sadness. He cleared his throat, hesitating slightly before lifting Jonathan's flannel up to reveal the bandage wrapped around his waist with a single crimson spot beginning to spread through it. "It's already been re-bandaged, you don't really need to do anything."
"Well, I think that's for me to decide, don't you?" Spencer quirked a brow, reaching behind him to grab the sterilised medical scissors and beginning to cut through the tightly-wound fabric carefully. "Forgive the little shortcut here, but I'm really not in the mood to spend a whole five minutes unwrapping the bandage."
"I - it's fine." Caleb gulped, averting his eyes to the harsh light overhead when those sinister urges swarmed his mind at the sight of the scissors' blades.
"Well - that's... worrying." Spencer gave a tight-lipped smile, tossing the old gauze to the side as he stared at the gash in the boy's abdomen which had begun to gush an alarming amount of blood the second the pressure from the bandage was relieved. "I don't really need to do anything, you said?"
Caleb frowned and glanced down at his side at the man's words, his own eyes widening slightly. Aside from the profuse bleeding, the skin around his wound had become raw and swollen and was beginning to turn a revolting shade of green. "Aren't you supposed to like... stop me from bleeding out?"
"Yes! Yes, that's - that's my job - uh... yes." Spencer muttered, fumbling to grab a clean cloth and pressing it against the boy's side as he gently laid him down on the grey padded table, using his shoulder to push his bifocals further up his nose. "Sorry, I - I'm not really used to this, yet. First day."
"First-" Caleb spluttered, a thick cough building in his throat before he could finish his sentence. "Aw, fuck, what now - ahem-"
"Y - you might have internal-"
"I don't have inter - cough - nal ble-" Caleb choked out, clearing his throat before leaning over the side of the table and watching in mild disgust as the blood dribbled from his lips, splattering against the linoleum floor. "Ugh, that's - ahem - the blood is from - ugh - fuck sake. The blood is from my nose - I have - I might have a bro - cough - broken nose, fucking hell-"
Spencer urged him back into his previous position, his face flushed crimson with panic. "Uh, I don't - well, um-"
"Just fucking reset it!"
Spencer nodded, sitting Caleb back up once again and glancing around wildly, caramel curls flying. "Anesthesia, anesthesia, where's the fucking anesthesia-"
"Fuck the anesthesia, just do it!" Caleb cried, clutching his nose to try and contain the sudden on flow of blood spurting from it. "Fucking Walsh-"
"I'm doing it!" Spencer huffed, grabbing the boy by the side of the head and taking hold of his nose in a panic, wrenching it to the side. "OH SHIT I DID IT WRONG-"
Caleb greeted the pain with open arms, allowing the sharp sting and the discomfort to travel through his entire body and wrap him in a familiar cocoon of agony. He deserved the pain. He needed more pain.
"Huh. You took that pretty well-"
And then the world went dark and Caleb fainted.
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He blinked the sleep from his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows and letting out a low whine of disapproval. He lifted his head from where it was resting uncomfortably on his shoulder, stalling as he watched Spencer slip the latex gloves from his hands with a satisfied smile, turning back to his patient and startling slightly. "Woah - you didn't give me a colonoscopy while I was out, did you, Doc?"
"Well, you'll never know if I did." Spencer smirked, causing the boy to falter and widen his eyes slightly. The man just winked before bringing Caleb's attention back to the matter at hand. "Sorry to tell you, but it looks like it's gonna scar - it's been re-opened too many times for the tissue to ever fully heal. But I guess you've got a lot of those already, huh?"
"Yeah, thanks to this place." Caleb scoffed, lifting up the stained flannel to observe his doctor's work. The bandage work was almost identical to Joyce's (thanks to the temporary nursing position she had taken up while her family was struggling to deal with Lonnie's departure), but he could feel the stitches in his side tugging at his flesh as he dropped the checkered fabric, allowing it to drape over his lap once more.
Spencer's face softened considerably and he took his bifocals from his face, folding them shut and tucking them into his breast pocket with a sincere smile. "You know, with Brenner gone, I think things are really gonna start looking up here. Not all of us are desperate to capture and torture innocent kids, you know. Some of us just really need the fucking money."
Caleb laughed, though it lacked any of the light-hearted mirth his joking chuckle usually held. He stood to his feet, pushing the groggy cloud from his mind as he swayed on his feet slightly. "I hope you got something nice out of your 'fucking money' - and I hope it was worth more than my sister's life, you piece of shit."
Spencer blanched, smile falling, and found himself unable to reply even as the boy shouldered past him, taking the paper bag of prescribed painkillers from the young doctor's hands and pulling open the hefty wooden door without another word.
Caleb turned at the last second, hand lingering on the steel handle. "I knew Joel. He was a good person - before he was beaten to death." The man paled, his lips parting in shock. "Oh, you didn't know? Yeah, it'll be two years since he died next Friday. Fuck you for outing him to your parents."
And then Caleb left, making sure to slam the door behind him, and began to wander through the halls nonchalantly, knocking various painting and posters from the walls and kicking a flowerpot off the coffee table in one of the larger waiting lounges. It was mindless, casual vandalism that he would have felt some remorse for if he could feel anything at all in that moment. And, in his opinion, he was within his right to break things - this place had broken him, after all.
Caleb threw himself down on the first uncomfortable chair he could find, forcing his shoulders to press against the back of the seat painfully as he peeked inside his pharmacy bag and retrieved one of the two stark white containers. Morphine. It would do.
He popped one or two to start off, adding another three before the first two had even kicked in and pouring a few more into his palm as he munched quietly on the other, paying no mind to the foul taste that tainted his tongue. Just one or two more, he told himself as he poured the contents of his palm into his mouth, just until the pain stops.
Just until the pain stops, he reminded himself when his head grew heavy.
Just until the pain stops, he told himself as he placed another on his tongue.
Just until the pain stops, he thought again when his chest grew tight.
Just until it all stops, was the last thing he thought before his body fell to the floor and the world went dark once again.
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Caleb wished that was how it happened, he wished that the pain had actually ended for a while and that he had finally succumbed to death's sweet slumber. He wished that the stranger hadn't found him, he wished that he hadn't opened his eyes to find himself purging the contents of his stomach in a grimey bathroom stall - he wished that he was dead.
Instead, he was being forced over a toilet bowl as the mystery saviour held his collar in their hand to keep him from falling into the silicone basin and wiped his mouth with a paper towel when he finally stopped hurling.
Caleb heaved, spluttering a few remaining lumps of vomit into the toilet before raising his limp hand to flush it, sagging in the arms of his arrester as they placed their hand on his cheek and turned his head to face them. He managed a weak sound of protest, moving his face away from their warm palm only to be grabbed forcefully by his chin.
"Hey. Hey, look at me. Caleb." The stranger ordered, bringing the boy's unfocused eyes to their blurred face. "Caleb. Can you hear me?"
Caleb groaned, lifting his chin from the person's hands as his head lolled to the side, landing on their shoulder instead. He grunted, trying to sit himself up, and relented when he failed to stand to his own feet, falling into their arms and hiding his face in the crook of their neck. "S... stomach. Stomach hurts."
"Yeah, no shit." His rescuer scoffed, moving their head back to look him in the eye as they cradled him like a newborn child. Caleb recognised those hazel eyes. "The fuck are you doing, kid?"
Caleb just lifted his shoulder in a pathetic attempt at a shrug, dropping his head onto the man's shoulder and letting out a deep sigh. "Jus' waiting for m' lobotomy. You?"
Steve's features tightened and he clenched his jaw in annoyance, concern burning brazenly in his green-speckled irises. "You know what I mean, you little shit. Do you know what would have happened if I hadn't found you? Huh?"
"Dead." Caleb replied boredly, shifting away from the teenager and resting his head on the opposite wall of the stall instead, staring at his reflection in the white tiled wall, his eyes barren.
"Exactly, you'd be fucking dead. Is that what you want? You wanna die? You wanna leave all your friends, your family-"
"Yes." Caleb mumbled, sinking further into the floor as he wiped the drool from his chin with his sleeve, eyelids drooping dangerously. "Better dead."
"... Don't say that. Don't say things like that-"
"Why? You don't want to hear it? Nobody fucking does, Steve, that's the point." Caleb slurred, pulling his knees to his chest and throwing his head back against the wall of the cubicle, bottom lip caught between his teeth. "You think telling me to shut up is going to give me some - some newfound ambition for life or something?"
"That's not-"
"You think that just because I don't say something means that I don't feel it - but that's not how it works." The boy stated, running a hand through his matted hair and turning to his friend with an impassive expression. "Just because I don't say that I want to die doesn't mean I'm not going to throw myself off a fucking building. Because I'm already thinking it."
It went quiet then, with Steve staring at him intently from across the compact stall - their legs tangled together messily despite the awkward position the younger of them had cramped himself into to avoid contact - while Caleb just stared up at the ceiling waiting for the world to stop spinning and his heart to stop beating so loud - or at all, for that matter.
"You're too young to be this sad." Steve spoke quietly, voice wavering with emotion.
"I'm too tired to care." Caleb shrugged, and the conversation ended there.
After a few more moments of intense and painfully palpable silence, Caleb finally managed to pull himself to his feet and stretched out his aching limbs as he clambered over Steve's legs to exit the stall, catching his reflection in the mirror for a moment and cursing the bloodshot eyes that blinked back at him. The older boy called something out to him as he left that Caleb didn't care enough to listen to, shutting the door behind him and glancing up and down the hall before making his way in the direction that looked the most familiar.
Knowing it was futile, Caleb patted down his pockets and grumbled to himself when he confirmed that Steve had, in fact, confiscated his painkillers - which was going to be a struggle considering the blossoming pain in his side and the strain on his chest everytime he moved too quickly, as well as the tenderness in his nose and the heavy feeling settling over his brain. What's the point of prescriptions if people keep fucking taking them from me?
Caleb continued to sulk as he made a baneful attempt at navigating his way back to the waiting room he had originally been seated in, suddenly growing angry at himself for ever forgetting about Will. Those few moments of weakness - those few moments of 'just one more' - had almost cost him the gift of seeing his dear friend again for the first time in what felt like forever.
He was so stupid - he should have waited just a few more minutes, he should have given his friends the goodbye they deserved before being so selfish.
He would wait, he decided. Until he saw Will, until he was sure that his friends all knew how valued they were - and then he would free himself from his agony and remove the burden of his presence from the other's shoulders.
It would be better that way, he assured himself when a seed of doubt planted itself in his mind. It would all be better once he was gone.
Miraculously, he managed to catch a glimpse of Nancy's familiar chestnut waves and he darted down the hallway, jerking away from her when she reached a hand out to grasp his shoulder - mouth opened to say something to him that he didn't bother listening to as he forced the glass door of the waiting room open, looking around with a creased brow for his friends.
Chief Hopper's glare burned into the side of his head as Caleb whipped his head around wildly, heart drumming in his throat. His eyes found Karen's from across the room and he started towards her urgently. "Where are they - Mrs. Wheeler, where are they-"
"Uh, th - they're in-"
"They took them. Those bastards took them, didn't they?!" Caleb cried, spinning on his heel and throwing a hand through his hair, eyes darting around in panic. His jaw set and he narrowed his eyes, lips curling into a scowl as he stormed towards the door on the other side of the room that led deeper into the hospital's pristine halls. "No. No, they're not taking them too - they're not fucking taking them from me-"
Just as Caleb reached for the silver handle, the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps caused him to whip his head up in their direction, relief surging through him when he saw his friends bustling through the hallway with ecstatic smiles on their faces, Mike spying Caleb's lethargic form through the window and quickening his pace, forcing the door open and throwing his arms around the boy's shoulders. "Caleb, he's awake! He's alright, he's gonna be fine-"
"Where the hell were you, dude?!" Dustin demanded, his toothy smile an ever-shining beacon of optimism during times such as these. Caleb could feel the pressure in his head lift slightly just from the sight of those premature pearly whites.
"Took you long enough!" Lucas scoffed, nudging his head to the side slightly with a playful smirk that reminded Caleb of the only moments when he truly felt like he was actually living.
"You missed it!" Mike prompted, his urgent tone drowning out the voices of their friends as he grasped the boy's sleeve and dragged him towards the door. "He's resting now - Ms. Byers will probably let you in but-"
"He's awake? Will's awake?" Caleb placed his hand on his friend's shoulder to stop him, a rush of respite hitting his chest and almost knocking him off his feet. Mike turned, his pale cheeks warm with joy and his freckled skin tugging into a wide grin as he nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah. And he's gonna be okay."
Caleb let out a delirious sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and took off down the corridor, sprinting through the monotone, colourless maze of disinfectant-soaked floors and sleek black door frames and forcing open every patient room door with little regard for the angered shrieks or fussing nurses he stumbled into or the uneasy feeling in his stomach from the night's previous events, until he finally spotted Joyce and Jonathan huddled together outside a room down the hall.
"Yeah, his friend is in there with him now. He's doing okay, but Hopper said he has to wear this weird hearing aid thing for a few weeks and his leg is gonna take a long time to fully heal," Jonathan was saying as the young boy approached, his sneakers squeaking loudly off the polished floors as be hurried towards them. Joyce was nodding along to her son's words, gnawing on her thumbnail anxiously when she heard Caleb approaching and looked up in surprise, "other than that and the pneumonia, he should be fine - nothing permanent or anything but-"
"Ms. Byers - Ms. Byers!" Caleb panted, latching onto Jonathan's shoulder to catch himself when his legs almost slipped out from beneath him at the speed he was going. "I was getting stitched up by this asshole doctor, I didn't get to-"
"Five minutes." Joyce replied before the boy could even finish, drawing a victorious yell from him. She pointed her finger at him warningly, though the small smile on her face contradicted her stern expression. "That's all, Caleb, he - Caleb, he needs his rest!"
Caleb was already throwing the sturdy wooden door open before Joyce could protest against it, looking around excitedly and stalling in his place when he finally laid eyes on Will.
The boy was curled up in the patient bed, various wires piercing his pale flesh and his skin an unhealthly shade of blue that contrasted boldly against his greased sorrel locks. His cheeks were sallow and he looked unnaturally thin, but those baby brown eyes still shined just as brightly as they always had when he saw his friend barrel into the room as gracefully as a one-legged hippo.
"You're alive!" Caleb choked out, tackling the boy to the mattress and shrieking into his shoulder, the pure exhilaration coursing through every vein and artery in his body a stark contrast to the worrying strain on his heart muscles and the cloud of fog that remained over his head from his moment of weakness. "YOU'RE ALIVE!"
"I'm alive!" Will coughed, his voice considerably weaker but just as enthusiastic, holding onto the taller boy's shoulders despite the awkwardness of their position and the strain it was putting on his IV drip.
Caleb tightened his hold, hiding his nose in the crook of his friend's neck and biting back a pathetic flood of tears. "Holy shit, Byers, you had us all so worried, we thought you were fucking dead, we had a funeral and - you're real, right? You're real, tell me you're real-"
"I'm real, I'm real!" Will chuckled, returning the embrace with just as much vigour, if not more. "I heard you - in that place, I heard you - holy shit I missed you guys so much, you have no idea, Cal, I-"
"You missed us?! I haven't seen you in two months, asshole!" Caleb let out a strangled yell, a weak laugh catching in his throat as he pulled away, holding the boy's shoulders and giving him a quick once over. "Are you okay? You look skinny, when was the last time you ate? You're shivering, are you cold - wait, how many diseases do you have, are you contagious - should I even be touching you right now-"
"I'm fine, I'm fine! Relax, Caleb, I'm alright now." Will assured, his smile stretching his chapped lips so wide that it hurt. "Mike said you got stabbed, what the hell happened-"
"Oh, c'mon, now he's just being dramatic-"
"I leave you alone for less than a week and you get stabbed-"
"I left you alone for less than two months and you got stuck in an alternate dimension with a squishy space monster!"
"That is so not fair-"
"Without my permission, might I add-"
"Apologies, I'll make sure to let the next extraterrestrial monster that tries to kidnap me know that you don't approve." Will rolled his eyes fondly, his smile only brightening even more when Caleb gave a mocking nod of confirmation.
"That's more like it." He smirked, pulling himself onto the hospital bed and leaning back on his hands, swallowing back the uncomfortable feeling rising in his throat. "I'm - I'm really fucking glad that you're back."
"Yeah, me too." Will grinned, but it fell from his face just as quick as it had come. It had never been this hard for him to be happy before. "You look worse than me."
"Thanks, Will." Caleb scoffed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he toyed with the rough fabric of the beige thermal blanket thrown over the younger boy's legs.
They allowed a comfortable silence to pass between them, glancing at each other every now and then and laughing quietly for no reason before looking away again, as of the overwhelming relief of finally being reunited was too grand to contain.
It had been this simple and easy-flowing between them since the day Mike first introduced them to each other a few weeks after Caleb's re-arrival in Hawkins.
Caleb still had no idea what it was and he was sure that he never would and it would remain some grand mystery that left scientists and philosophers baffled for centuries to come - but Will had always felt like home, even before Caleb knew the meaning of the word.
There was just something - perhaps a cosmic aligning or a millenium-old prophecy that foretold the solidity of their coalition - that tied them together in a way they would never understand. It had felt vaguely similar to when Caleb first interacted with Eleven, like the planets had shifted and some forgotten light had slipped through the cracks of the universe and shed its radiance on a hidden thread intertwining them across realms upon realms of inescapable black holes and iridescent nebulae and exploding constellations.
Whatever that something was, Caleb was certain that it could only be some foreign, outerworld power that made him feel such an in-depth connection to one person - because it made no sense that a tether so precious and resilient could have been crafted by the dirtied and unworthy hands of men. He had given up on religion a long time ago and he was aware that there were no almighty deities or Greek gods, but he believed that the universe had a way of making things happen.
One of those things was the alliance of Caleb Moore and Will Byers - and the boys would spend the rest of eternity repaying the universe's mystical workings for allowing said alliance to be formed, because it was probably the best thing that had happened to either of them.
In actuality, they were just really close friends and connected on an emotional level neither of them could dream of reaching with their other friends - but Caleb was known to either blow things out or proportion or belittle them into a consequent nothing, with no in between.
His head got away with him like that sometimes, it was often terrifying and extremely frustrating - but it had its moments.
Everything that Caleb believed about his connection to Will and Eleven - every cosmic aligning and forgotten light and spacial tether - was, in fact, nothing more than his brain's way of comprehending the inexplicable emotion known as love. It had always been an intangible feeling that he could never quite reach - or so he thought - so the idea of him being able to house such an emotion, after years of believing that he was incapable of it, had prevented his mind from allowing him to realise that he loved a lot more people than he thought.
In simple words, his mind just had a rather strange way of thinking things.
There was no ethereal intertwining or cosmic connection between himself and Will - there was just Caleb and his inability to comprehend caring for another person so deeply.
"So, how are you doing? You feeling okay?" Caleb prompted, pulling his legs closer to his chest and folding them into a crossed position beneath his body, tilting his head at the boy expectantly.
"Okay, I guess." Will shrugged, sitting himself up slightly and leaning back into his uncomfortable hospital bed pillow. "It doesn't really hurt anymore, I'm just kind of loopy from all the painkillers and stuff but they finally took that weird tube thing out of my nose so-"
"Not - not like that, I mean... like, how are you?" The taller of them clarified. "Your - your smile's a little more forced than it used to be, you know?"
Will gulped and averted his eyes to the various thin wires protruding from his arm. Jonathan had joked that they were 'pumping the life back into him' when he asked, but Will felt so terribly cold and numb that he doubted it was true. "I'm - I'll be okay. I think."
"It's okay if you're not okay." Caleb mumbled softly, reaching a hand out to bat a greased strand of hair out of the boy's hair. Awkward interactions were his love language, it seemed.
"I... I just..."
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Will." He assured when the boy became visibly unsettled at the prospect of wording his feelings. "I understand."
Will nodded, sagging in relief. "I think I need to. But not right now. Is that okay?"
"'Course it is." Caleb waved him off, shifting to face him. "We still have to talk about the other thing, though." He warned with a pitiful attempt at a teasing smile. Every expression of happiness felt strained now. "You're not getting let off that easy."
"What thin - oh." Will's malnourished face fell, dread filling his stomach. He had almost forgotten while he lay in that cursed, retched world waiting for death to take him - almost forgotten about the unspeakable thing that had taken place in Castle Byers just days before Caleb's departure for Bravenpoint, about the stolen kiss and the cries of self-hatred that followed it. "N - no, Caleb, honestly, it's fine. It's probably just a phase or something-"
"Will." Caleb caught his eye, refused to let it go. That sparse, one second glance said much more than he was willing to speak aloud. "We'll figure it out. I made you a promise and I'm not planning on breaking it."
Will let out a shaky breath, nodding his head slowly, though unease continued to gnaw at his scattered nerves as he withheld the urge to attack his fingernails with his teeth - his mother's anxious tendencies were hereditary, it seemed. He nudged Caleb with his foot to capture his friend's attention and his leg was pushed away forcefully as a result - the two engaging in a playful game of nudge and shove as the conversation continued. "The guys are worried about you. They said you've barely spoken since the school. What's going on?"
Caleb shrugged, swatting the boy's foot away for a final time before surrendering and toying with the tawny bedcovers instead as his foot began to jolt erratically beneath him. "I'm... I'm not fine. I know that. But I don't know what I am feeling. I think I'm just processing - you know it takes a while for these things to click with me. I'll be alright, though. Always am." He lied easily. He didn't need to lie with Will, the boy was his best friend and he could honestly tell him anything, but he had to lie to himself if he was going to get through the day.
Besides, he felt like a self-centred dick bothering Will with trivial declarations of his feelings after the ordeal the boy had just been through.
"Caleb. C'mon, it's me." Will pleaded, reaching out his quivering hand to clutch the boy's sleeve, urgency leaking into his tone as his eyes bore into him. "Don't hide things from me just because you feel like a burden. I'll feel better if you let me help you - promise."
"I..." Caleb went to argue, but relented at the sight of the younger boy's desperation, "I feel bad. I know it's a bad feeling. But I'm trying to be happy - you're back now and you're safe and I'm supposed to be happy but I just feel really fucking bad. I don't think there's even room for anything else. It's like - like... fuck. I don't know, I can't understand it."
"Just say whatever comes into your head."
"It's like being ripped in half, but it's not just half of me, it's everywhere." Caleb breathed, the words expelling from him before they had even registered in his mind. "It just hurts all over and it's like being really, really sad but it hurts. Sad isn't supposed to hurt this much."
"You're grieving, Cal." Will soothed him quietly, resting his hand on the boy's knee and ducking his head to look him in the eye. "It's normal - you're not insane for feeling things that you don't understand."
"I don't want to fucking grieve, I want her to be here." Caleb snapped, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes when they began to water. His attempts proved fruitless and he crumbled the moment Will too his hands from his face, curling into the boy's side and clutching onto him as harrowing sobs wracked through his aching body. "I don't want her to be gone."
"I know. You can cry, Cal. It's okay to cry." Will mumbled quietly, holding the shattered boy close to his chest in an attempt to keep all his fractured pieces held together so he wouldn't break beyond repair. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Byers boy worried that he already had.
"I'm just so fucking tired." Caleb coughed into the boy's chest, curling his fist in the dotted fabric of his hospital gown, choking on his own grief-laced tears. "I'm so fucking tired, Will."
"It's okay now, Caleb. You can sleep, I'll make sure the bad doesn't get you. Go to sleep. It's okay."
And maybe for a fracture of a second, it was.
But only for a second.
↬
Caleb let out a quiet yawn as everyone piled out of the Lab, tilting his head to estimate the time. The night sky was painted a rich onyx - illuminated only by the various scatterings of stars overhead and the lights pouring from the windows of the leering building behind them as they all retreated to their respectable vehicles - but there was a faint peach glow leaking into the cracks of the horizon, and it wouldn't be long before the sun rose to commence its treacherous morning of ever-blazing glory.
Karen tightened her hold around he and Mike's shoulders as the latter of the two dragged himself along the pavement, rubbing at his eye tiredly, and her grip hardened even more when the burly man in the Chief's uniform strolled towards them, scratching at the side of his head and muttering to himself.
"Uh, hey, Karen - I was uh, I was wonderin' if I could talk to the kid for a minute." Hopper nodded towards the boy being caged affectionately under her right arm, taking his hat from his head to run a hand through his hair only to place the tan accessory back on his greying scalp, his smile as strained as the crows feet lining his crystalline eyes.
Karen furrowed a brow at him, her mouth curling in protest just as Caleb nudged his head against her shoulder, causing her to turn to him expectantly, expression still firm. "It's okay, Mrs. Wheeler. I'll be fine."
The woman remained unconvinced but after another reassuring look from Caleb and a vain attempt at a polite smile from Hopper, she gave a strained agreement followed by a weary glance as she led her lethargic son towards their station wagon, throwing a pointed look at Caleb over her shoulder to let him know that she would be waiting.
Caleb gave her a short nod and waved briefly at Mike through the tinted windows of the backseat, then turned on his heel to follow the Chief of Police to his infamous Chevrolet Blazer. He didn't await instructions before pulling open the passenger door and clambering into the compact front seat, settling himself in and waiting impatiently for Hopper to do the same.
Hopper dropped himself into the driver's seat, slamming his door close behind him and placing his hands on the sturdy rubber-gripped wheel out of habit, taking his hands from the steerer to drum a short rhythm on his thigh anxiously, shifting around and fighting against the lump in his throat for a few unbearable moments before finally opening his mouth. "Uh, so..."
"So?" Caleb prompted eagerly, an irritated scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth as his foot jostled restlessly beneath him.
"So. Alright. Alright, look," Hopper sighed, taking his hat from his head and running a hand over his face before throwing the hat down on the dashboard, placing his forearms on the steering wheel and holding his head in his hands for a moment before promptly removing them, blowing out a tired breath, "when I was investigating Will's case, I ended up looking into Hawkins Lab and the story of a missing child that I thought was Will. Instead, it turned out to be a little girl called Jane Ives - you might know her as Eleven."
Caleb immediately reached for the door and Hopper placed a hand on his shoulder, causing the boy to jerk away from him and narrow his eyes coldly. "Don't fucking touch me."
"Wait, just - just listen! Alright, look, when we - when me and Joyce, when we went to see Eleven's mother - we, uh, we found something." Hopper gulped, dropping his hands to his lap once again as he let out a deep breath. "Something big. Something that has a whole lot to do with you."
"Well, I'm waiting."
Hopper sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before sniffing sharply and straightening himself, shifting his body to face the frail preteen in his passenger seat. "Eleven... wasn't Terry's only child."
"And?" The boy deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest and finding himself strangely defensive for no apparent reason.
"And, she apparently had twins. Boy and a girl - they were both taken by Brenner at different times-"
"Shut the fuck up. Now."
"Joyce figured it out, it's the only explanation for why there's no records of your birth - of anything before we found you in '79." Hopper reasoned, attempting fruitlessly to lay all the information he had garnered onto the young boy before he tried to break out of the car a second time, "Look, your real name is Jacob Andrew Ives, you were taken by Hawkins Lab shortly after your third-"
"Shut up." Caleb repeated coldly, turning away from the man and reaching for the door once again. Hopper, in a flustered panic, jammed his thumb down on a button next to the steering wheel, causing a heavy click to sound from the passenger door. Caleb grunted, bringing his fist down on the door and turning to the man with a sharp scowl. "Let me out of this fucking car, Jim." His voice wavered every few syllables and his eyes watered, but his rage persisted. He brought his fist down again. "Let me out!"
"When I tried to tell you about your mom, you thought she was a lowlife junkie that sold you to Brenner to pay for her next high." The man ranted, his chest rising and falling swiftly, eyes searching Caleb's for some sort of understanding that he knew he wouldn't find. "I just want you to know the truth, kid."
"Some people don't want the truth, Hopper. Most people are just fine with pity lies and false reassurances. I am most people." Caleb spoke measuredly, but his eyes still stung and his vision was still blurred by grief-induced saltwater and it didn't take long for the tears to begin falling freely down his cheeks. "I don't need this right now. You're making everything worse - I don't want to hear anything, I don't want to listen to you, I don't want to be here - let me out. Just let me out, please."
"Look, kid," Hopper grunted, quickly growing fed up of the boy's incessant denials, "I get that you're upset but-"
"I can't - Hop, let me out, I can't breathe. Please, let me out, I can't-" Caleb panted, clawing at the door until the man startled and fumbled to unlock it, the world tilting sideways as Caleb forced himself out of the truck and landed on his knees in the dusted gravel with a baneful sob.
He didn't know when the cloud of emptiness had lifted from his head or when his heart started working again, but in that moment the only thing he could feel was inexplicable pain. It felt like every fibre of his being had been twisted and turned inside out, like his entire soul had been upholstered with needle-thin blades. He thought for a moment that his soul was on fire, then realised that it was actually his brain that had been set ablaze.
Sad wasn't supposed to hurt this much.
↬
a/n :
!if you ever find yourself idealising suicide or self harm as a form of relief or freedom, please talk to someone - there are anonymous and completely confidential chat rooms online if you do not wish to speak about your issues in person or feel you have nobody to speak to and my own messages are always open for non-judged venting!
also, the reason chapters like this fluctuate between being fast-paced and blunt, to drawn out and descriptive, is because that's how caleb's mind is working at certain points, and i really want you guys to kind of understand how he thinks - just incase anyone thought i was just being sloppy
that's all for now, darlings x
- georgia