Okay, this story has been sitting for a long time (a year perhaps?) Not sure that I've ever been 100% happy with it, but I've gotten it to where I think it works now. It was an effort. Hope ya'll enjoy!

Title: Fall

Author: Obi the Kid

Rating: PG-13 (Cal language)

Summary: Cal takes a tumble and flashes back to Tumulus.

Disclaimer: All hail Rob Thurman! No profit here, I'm just having fun.

I fell. The ground disappearing from under me. A sink hole; a well; a trap? Could have been anything. All I know is that I went down and tumbled/rolled/fell too many damn feet to count. My head bounced off the side of the vertical tunnel several times. I tasted blood on my tongue. When I finally stopped moving, I was in a small dark cavern. No. That was wrong. Cavern was too fancy a word. I was in a hole. A hole about the size of two of me.

On my knees with my arms straight out, I could touch the wall on either side. The walls were cold. Rock and dirt. The walls were close. Too close.

Robin didn't fall with me, so he must still be topside.

"Robin?" I called up as I stood – shaky on my unstable legs. "You better be up there! If this is one of your stupid-ass jokes, I swear I will hunt you down. Robin? Damn it, Loman! Where the hell are you?"

I stopped yelling for a minute, feeling something. A strange something. My head hurt, but that wasn't it. There was blood running from my nose, but no. Not it either. This was worse. A flash of a memory. An image from the past. A very bad, very dark, very I-don't-want-to-remember type of image.

Cold. Close. Dirt. Rock. Oh no. No no no no no. Hell, no. Shit, no.

Almost immediately, my chest started heaving in an out uncontrollably, in an out, in and out, until I could feel my heart pounding blood into my ears. My chest moved harder, my heart pounded louder. I yelled up to Robin again…no, that wasn't right, it wasn't a yell. It was a pure-blooded scream, my voice clouded with good old-fashioned fear.

"Damn it, Robin, get me out of here! Now!"

I shut up for a minute to catch his response. If could only hear it over the hammering in my ears.

"Caliban, how far down are you?"

"Robin, just get me out! Please, just get me OUT!"

"I need a rope. Be right back."

"NO! DON'T LEAVE ME DOWN HERE DAMN IT!"

But he did. And I was alone and hyperventilating and on the verge of full-fledged panic. It felt like those years ago when I was fresh out of Hell. That type of quick and desperate panic. My head hurt worse now. Blinking didn't help. But I did it anyway, a lot. I don't know which I was doing faster, blinking or breathing, but both functions were working overtime. I felt tired then, like hit-the-wall type tired. Though for now, I managed to stay on my feet.

Robin had been gone a lifetime and by the time I heard his voice again, it had changed. It sounded…further away?

"Caliban, I called Niko, he's on his way. We'll get you out. Are you hurt?"

I yelled again, but it was cut short this time by the pulse of pain that went through my skull. Concussion, I must have a concussion. What did Nik always tell me about that? Stay awake? Try to stay awake until help comes. Oh and don't puke your guts out while lying on your back. Okay, I could do that. Then I heard Robin laughing at me. Laughing? I looked up into the total darkness and screamed at him.

"Stop laughing, Loman. This isn't funny, you bastard!"

His echoed response seemed puzzled. Or was that me feeling that way? "I'm not laughing at you, you damn fool. I'm trying to figure out how to get you out of there! This is some trap that I think our old pal Sawney Beane set up at one point. Creative, but not very useful. It's no wonder he abandoned it. Caliban, can you hear me?"

"I hear…I hear laughing. Stop laughing. I can't…see. No, wait. I see…red…red…the eyes are red…no, no, no, oh Jesus! ROBIN, GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

"Your brother is on the way. He's bringing ropes. We will get you out, understand? Just hang in there."

"No, no no. You don't understand…" No one understands. I can't stay down here. I can't do it, I can't. I feel it. I hear them. I see them. It's cold there. So cold. Nothing but rocks and dirt and on my icy naked skin…and…laughing. The laughing coming from all directions…it wouldn't stop. The red eyes and the hundreds of needle sharp teeth and…"ROBIN, PLEASE!"

I felt myself failing then. And each time my eyes fluttered closed I felt their hands on me again and when I looked up, I saw their red eyes on me and heard their metal laughter. They called to me. Reached at me. It got colder. My head hurt. Head hurt…I slid down the dirt wall to land on my side.

Trying to resist the urge to curl up in a ball and escape, another voice pulled me out.

"CAL!"

Nik. That was Nik's voice.

"NIK!" I stood back up and clawed at the sides of the wall; the skin on my knuckles tearing with my desperation. I smelled the blood – my blood.

"I'm lowering a rope, Cal. Tell me if it reaches you."

Rope? Where? I couldn't see shit down here. I stuck my hands up and waved them around, searching frantically as I slapped and pounded my bleeding hands into the walls.

"CAN'T FIND IT, NIK! PLEASE GET ME OUT! Stop laughing…leave me ALONE! Don't touch me!"

"Cal, focus on me. Only on me. Can you…can you gate out of there?"

Gate? My brother was actually asking me to travel? What the hell was happening to the world? But I couldn't. I couldn't even focus on a single thought for more than a few seconds. And my head was messed up too, wasn't it? Bleeding. I could feel it. Smell it. It was dark here. And cold. Just like…just like there.

"CAL. ANSWER ME NOW!"

An order. I had to respond.

The collected panic in Nik's voice…and I tried to respond. I did and reached out again for the rope. But all I found was more dirt and cold and blood and laughing and…"I can't. Nik. Please…my head hurts…the red eyes are all around…please don't let them take me again…You promised you wouldn't let them take me…NIK!" I couldn't yell anymore. My throat felt raw. Before, when I was there…I screamed a lot, didn't I? It was cold there and…alone. Just like now.

"CAL!"

Time passed. Could have been a minute, could have been an hour or a day. All I know is that it passed. I opened my eyes in the dark and felt myself curled up, trying to keep warm and trying to keep them away. They still laughed in their own psychotic way. The red eyes still watched me. And beyond the laughing, the only sounds I could hear were my own panicked breathing and my thumping and racing heart beat as it tried to push its way out of my chest.

Something touched my shoulder as a beam of light fell down next to me.

Then a sound. A familiar sound. A voice. The voice I had known all my life. The voice that had always meant safety.

"I'm here, Cal. Right above you. Grab the flash light there and shine it toward me."

Clumsily, I did. My movements were slow, but Nik's voice penetrated the laughing and the pounding and the thumping and the mocking. He landed softly next to me and knelt down. Immediately, he moved careful hands all over to see where my injuries were and where the blood was coming from. Those hands couldn't feel inside my mind, but Niko knew. My brother knew what this place was doing to me. The cold and rock and dirt and dark and…he knew. And because of that, he didn't hesitate when I flinched initially at his touch.

The narrow beam of light shone onto my face. "Nasty head wound there, little brother."

"Nik…" I was trying to curl up again, and my head was bobbing around until he pressed his hands to either side of my face and kept me still. "Cold, Nik. S'cold here…there…where they took me. Tryin' to take me again. Don't let 'em take me, you promised."

"No, Cal. It's all in your mind. You fell in a hole. Well, a trap really. It's cold and dark down here, perhaps as it was there, but you're notthere anymore, okay? I'll never let that happen again. Can you stand?"

Stand. That would require non-lumbering movement on my part. Don't think so. I reached a hand out to my brother and fumbled to grasp at the collar of his shirt. "Nik, please just get me out."

The next thing I knew, hands were working, straps were surrounding me and Niko was clutched behind me in the tiny space. I heard several beeps of a phone. A signal of some sort? Then we were moving. Up. It was a snail's pace, but at least it as in the right direction. Out of the cold and dark. Out of the dirt and rock. Out of the memories of…there. Red eyes and metal teeth and laughing and terror…

What seemed like hours later, I felt the soft pelt of grass under me. I was upright, leaning against something metal and cold. A car? Hands were again examining my face. I could see now. Niko was the one poking around; checking for injuries once more. I rolled my tongue around and spit out bits of dirt. So this was what being run over by a Mac truck felt like. Great…just freakin' great. He pressed his hands into mine, turned them to see the skinless knuckles and then wrapped a thin layer of gauze around each one. That was my brother, always so goddamn prepared for anything stupid that I could get myself into.

I was being moved again; this time into a car. The backseat, I think. How was Nik going to drive from the back? Dunno. Let him figure that out. My heart had slowed its pounding, but my head hadn't. The seat cushion felt good though. Soft and warm. Not like in that hole…not like…there.

The arms that held me steered my unwilling body until I was prone. When you feel like crap, horizontal is the only position to savor and it was a position I worshipped regardless of my condition. There I was laying flat on my back with my hammering head pillowed on Niko's jacket, piled in his lap. One of my bandaged hands clenched at the seat under me, the other was held securely in my brother's sharp, almost painful grasp. He was grounding me; bringing me home as I babbled about the Auphe; about Tumulus; and about any other random terrifying evil of the moment.

"Cal, quiet. You're rambling."

I was. I stopped. Then the car moved. Niko didn't. Impressive trick.

"Y'drivin' from th'backseat?" I asked him groggily.

"Robin. And before you ask, no he's not driving our car."

Another voice chimed in. "Wouldn't be caught dead or even mummified in that piece of refuse. If I'm driving, we're riding in high style."

That was why the backseat was so warm and soft, and not full of foamy holes and smells from the late 1970's. I tried to relax. Robin wouldn't kill us on the way home, right? Not in his own car, he wouldn't. I shivered at the thought. No, no, that wasn't it. I was cold. And my mind wasn't appreciating my effort to not think about terrible evil things of the past. I clutched my brother's hand as tightly as he held mine.

"Cold, Nik."

"I know. Robin's car has many accoutrements. Regrettably, blankets are not one of them. He called me at the school. I lifted the rope and harness from the gym. We'll be home soon."

"M'head hurts."

"Let me know if you feel sick."

"'kay. Felt like…there, Nik. I saw them. I saw…heard them…laughing…red eyes…"

"You didn't, Cal. The Auphe are all dead. It was the claustrophobia along with the cold and dark that was triggering your mind into recalling the past. They weren't there. It was only your mind playing tricks."

"No, no, no. They were real, Nik. They were real."

I knew they were real. They were waiting for me to close my eyes so they could torture me like they had before. It was too real to not have been real. I knew... Nik's other hand moved to the side of my face and settled there; his thumb rubbed lightly back and forth. His way of calming me down when I was an emotional wreck. It had worked when I was a kid. It had worked during the worst of my nights after I had come back from Tumulus. It seemed to be magic once more.

Robin's voice again. Alarmed. "Gentleman, here there be wolves."

Niko replied with a short and simple "What?"

"Wolves, my dear Niko. Seven of them to be precise. All of them trying unsuccessfully to be nonchalant about sniffing around the outside of your place.

"Damn it!"

Frustration. From Nik of all people. Subtle, but clear. The fact that he let it shine through showed how concerned he was at the moment. For me. Once again, Cal makes life difficult for family and friends. I am nothing if not giving. I squeezed his hand from my prone position until he looked down at me.

"Sorry, little brother." He knew his irritation had shown. And Nik being Nik, wasn't about to allow it again. Not while the well being of his little brother was at stake. "Robin?"

"No worries, my friend, I shall escort the Leandros party to my place."

In between my increasing chills, I groaned. It was loud.

"Come now, Caliban, I promise, now that Ish and I are…well…there won't be any all-night orgies to work about. You may have to convince Salome that you're not a new play toy however. We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

The ride felt more like fifteen hours. Robin must have taken every back alley he could find and run over every pot hole in the city. I'd started rambling again during the trip. My head was fuzzy, my body was freezing and I was beginning to feel that barfing up a lung was soon to be an option I couldn't refuse. Concussions aren't fun in their own right. Combine them with memories of a torturous hell and red-eyed, flesh-eating devil monsters, and it's sort like an acidic trip to Disney World.

"No wolves," I think Robin said. Sounded more like 'nah vels', whatever the hell that meant, but do words really matter when your head is about to explode? Probably not. I felt myself being moved, supported on either side. My discombobulated legs made a laughable attempt at the stairs, from which my escorts took pity on me and lifted me up and over them.

Robin said something else. "Puggem in bad baddam." Yeah, okay. Seconds passed and I felt intense softness. More seconds passed and more mumbled words from the Puck. Something about 'fut ayd'. I don't know. I didn't care. He did leave eventually. Nik was still there. And his slurring? I could understand his slurring. Twenty something years of living in each other's back pockets will do that to you. I was on the bed, turned to my side with a pillow under my back. I wanted to lie on my stomach and tried…and failed.

"Keep still, Cal. You're nauseated. I want you aimed correctly. Let me check your head." I waited for chilled hands, but got warm blankets instead. Hands followed of course, but they weren't frozen. Leave it to Nik to actually warm his hands before digging at my wounds. My brother.

A tepid cloth stroked my face, lifting any droplet of blood and any grain of dirt carefully away. The same was done for my neck and arms. Then my hands were treated and wrapped again. I tried to keep my eyes open as Niko went about his task, but it was difficult. My teeth chattered though, so at least he had a bit of music to work by. My dirty and torn tee shirt was stripped off and replaced by something that felt very Robin-esque. Pants followed; made of fabrics that cost more than your average single-family home. Niko pulled the blankets up to my chin after re-dressing me. The mattress sagged as he sat down and neatly tucked the blanket around my shoulders. "Had I known you were going to play outside today, I would have told you to pack a duffel bag and a change of clothes." He turned his lips into a small smile. It was pained, but it helped.

I'd calmed my breathing at least. And I hadn't heard anymore of the creepy-ass, nightmare laughing in a while. If I could just stop shaking all over and figure out how to make the dazed and confused feeling go away, I might be okay.

I mumbled something to Nik. I didn't understand me, but he did. He always did.

"You can rest assured that Robin will never let you live it down if you vomit on his satin sheets, little brother. I'm surprised he didn't run in here and tear them off before I set you on the bed. Here, sip this." A straw was tipped to my lips. It was attached to a green can. Ginger Ale? Where the hell did he get that from? It just materialized in his hands. I took a few small sips.

"To help settle your stomach before it gets too bad."

I finished, spit the straw out and shivered again, grabbing at the blanket as I tried to tuck myself further into it.

"I'll see what else Robin has. I'm sure there's a heated blanket around here somewhere. I'll turn the heat up too. It might cause him to self combust, but he can deal. I'll be right back."

I nodded. Or my body was shaking so much that it moved my head for me. Either way, it counted as a nod. Niko left me and came back with an arm full of warm. I didn't know it was possible to feel so cold without being sick. All the extra stuff helped some, but I still shivered. Nik took one of my hands in his and pressed at my palm and fingers to try and heat them up. He was as warm as the blankets. And that helped too. It seemed the worst of my memory nightmare was over, though I had no idea why I was still frozen solid. Aftershocks, I guess.

I tried to register a sentence in my brother's direction. "Why s'my s'damn cold?"

A tepid hand rested on my forehead for a short second. "You feel normal. For you, that is. I suspect it's all in your head."

"G-goodie. Needed m'problems."

"You do have your share. Your mind hasn't told your body that everything is okay. You're not seeing or hearing them anymore, right?"

I shook my head and fumbled for the control for the heated blanket. "T'nup."

"It's all the way up. Give it a few minutes."

Easy for him to say. He wasn't a half-human popsicle. And despite my violent shakes, he told me to close my eyes; that the effects of the concussion were probably what was causing my brain to fail in its mind-to-body communication. And then there was something else about neurons and things being transmitted and…crap. Whatever.

"You want to try the mantra beads?"

"Uh uh."

"Try them anyway."

A bracelet wrapped my left wrist and Niko ordered me to count them off. Fish sticks and cartoons. Memories of a time when my life didn't suck quite as bad. It sucked big time, don't get me wrong – but I was five and still had some form of innocence – thanks to Nik.

Ten minutes passed. It was hard to keep my fingers on the beads without my chills shaking them off, but with Nik staring at me and watching my every move, I managed. Ten more minutes passed. I think. I wasn't really coherent of time. Could have been hours going by and I wouldn't have a damn clue. Ten seemed accurate enough though. I'd wobbled through several rounds before I felt any change. My fingers began to find more stability on the beads. There really was something to this meditation crap.

More time passed. The cold lessened again. No idea how long before it was down to just a general feeling of chilly.

"Keep going," Nik said softly. He was luring me into sleep with this. Sneaky bastard. Tricking my mind out of the game it was playing with my body. Quite a competition too. Niko vs. my screwed up brain. It was like Godzilla and Mothra all over again. Big brother was winning this round. My fingers kept moving on the bracelet. My thoughts turned completely away from the Auphe, the cold, the dark, the rocks and all things evil and bad so they could focus on torpedo-shaped flash-frozen cod sticks and Tom and Jerry; with a side of plain yogurt, masquerading as tartar sauce of course.

My last sight before I went down for the count was of my brother's gray eyes watching over me, keeping me safe. Just like he did when life really was all about fish sticks and cartoons. Just like he did every single day of his life, before and since.

When I woke up, ten years had passed. Okay, so it felt like a decade. In reality, according to a grumpy houseguest-weary Robin, it was two. He'd actually threatened to chop off certain body parts if I didn't 'get the hell out of his house'. I suppose we were intruding on his Ish time. Jesus. Forgive me for having a partial break-down and almost losing my mind because I fell in a damn flesh-eating rabbit hole of all things.

I sat upright much too quickly and paid for it with a monster-sized case of dizziness. I was still until it passed. My gaze turned to the nearby chair. Just a chair. No recliner, no cushiony softness…no comfort. Evidently, it had been Nik's bed for the last two nights. He'd refused Robin's offer of using one of his other bedrooms so he could be close to me – just in case. I must've done something right to earn such dedication. Not sure what it was, but it had to be more than just being me. Being me was enough to get me shot or stabbed in most people's eyes. Not my brother's.

My unsteady legs carried me over to him and I tapped his shoulder with the mala bead bracelet I'd removed from my wrist. He was only dozing. He knew exactly when – to the second – that I'd first come around. Niko kept better time than any half million dollar Rolex ever could and if needed, he would've been up. At the touch of the bracelet, he put his hand out and I dropped the beaded band into it.

"Thanks."

"You should keep it, Cal."

"No. I think it works better this way. Only when I really need it."

With cat-like flexibility, Niko stretched out his long frame and stood so he could stare down at me. "You stink."

"Think Robin will let me use the shower before he tosses me off the balcony?"

"Go. I have clean clothes for you, your own. Promise stopped them by. The wolves that were patrolling around our place have left. No idea what it was all about, but we can go home now."

Pardon my brain for being fuzzy, but I had no idea what he was talking about. So I gave him my best, "Huh?" and wiped at the sleep on my face.

"After we got you out…never mind. I'll explain later. Just get clean. And be careful. No sudden movements or the dizziness may come back again."

"How did you know…ah hell. Never mind. Of course you know."

"Shower. Now. Your clothes are next to the sink."

I went. Not because he ordered me to – well, okay, that was part of it – but the main reason was that I really did stink. If I was out two days, there's no telling what I might have been laying in or on during that time or how many sheet changes Nik had to do or how many times Robin had come in to the room to complain about his $400,000 satin bed linens. Hot water and a crap load of soap was what I was all about right now.

Twenty minutes later, the hot water went off. Not by my hands though. "Damn it, Nik!"

"You'll turn into a prune if you stay in there any longer. Not to mention you've steamed up half the loft."

"I deserve to let off a little steam!" Even my not-to-droll brother had to laugh at that one. He didn't.

"Yes, you are hilarious, Cal. Get dressed. Two minutes."

Two minutes, my ass. I'd been stuck in a death trap created by one of history's most notorious mass murders – who was now dead – again, for the second time – in which it was freezing cold, pitch-black dark, and filled with nightmare memories of my two years in Auphe Hell – followed by several days of lying half comatose in strange bed. I think I earned at least five minutes.

I made the two.

Robin didn't say anything as we left, just pointed to the door and then gave a five fingered wave goodbye. Good riddance was more like it. I'd bet anyone a million dollars that right about now, he was cursing the day that he decided to befriend us rather than run away screaming. Sucker!

The ride home was quiet. Impossible as it may seem, I didn't have much to say and Niko wasn't a talker by nature. My body assumed its natural slouch position against the door of the most recent crap-mobile that Niko had acquired from Robin. I'd never known rust was an actual car color until this thing. Someone should call Crayola. And the smell of the blue exhaust didn't do much for my continued headache. I hadn't woken up with it, but it didn't take long to lay claim. My eyes closed as my head fell back against the seat.

The sound of the top popping off a pill bottle got my attention. I blindly held my hand out to accept the drug – Extra Strength Tylenol – from my brother. Of course he had a bottle of water to follow. I popped and swallowed. With a little luck and the pharmaceutical assistance, the pain would improve soon.

Nik eventually broke the silence. "I'll give you a break on running for the next couple days. Don't get used to it though."

I snorted, turning my head towards the driver's side of the car, then sighed and said randomly, "I hate being cold." I'd hated the cold since I'd come back. Some days more than others - like recently. My detestation though came not from the cold so much as from what came with the cold. Fear. Terror. Memories that if I ever remembered them in complete and shining detail, would knock me sideways, backwards and inside out until I was truly and officially insane. Straightjackets, padded walls and butterfly nets all the way, baby! Unfortunately for me, we lived in New York and cold was as much a part of life in the city as were muggers and killer Taxi cabs.

My brother's hand clicked the car heat up a notch and adjusted the vents. I knew when we got home he'd do the same with the thermostat. Anything to keep my mind away from past horrors.

Where he found a spot to park on the street at this time of day was beyond me, even in our neck of the woods. More than likely, he just jammed his tank-car into drive and bulldozed a couple of those half-assed, death-trap Smart Car things out of the way until there was enough room to let old Rusty rest for a while.

All I know is that my headache wasn't any better by the time I was pushing myself out of the passenger seat. I stumbled slightly. For the moment, sunlight was not my friend. But as he'd been for twenty-some years, Nik was there to keep me from falling on my ass. I did finally find my sea legs and began walking towards our home. I heard Niko double checking the locks on the doors after he grabbed a duffel bag from the trunk. He caught up with me and from behind gave a small tug of my poor-excuse for a ponytail. His hand didn't leave. It settled on the back of my neck until we got inside. I wanted my bed. He wanted me in the kitchen.

"I want you to eat something. Then you can sleep."

"I'm okay." Not a lie, just an excuse. I didn't want to eat. My head hurt. I just wanted my bed.

"You're not and it wouldn't matter anyway. You haven't eaten in two days. I'll fix you a bowl of those Sugary Death Loops that you love so much."

Well, now that he mentioned it…I did love me some sugar loaded cereal. And it was morning. I relented and sat down. The spot in front of me filled with a bowl, a spoon; a half gallon of actual cow- based milk – not that soy crap that Niko relishes – and a box of heaven. I ate three full bowls. All under the watchful eye of my big brother of course. He made disgusted faces at me as I sucked down the sweetness and groaned in sugary pleasure. For a brief few minutes, life was good. Life was perfect. Then my brain had the nerve to remember that my life sucked.

Momentary bliss gone.

It was replaced by my brother's calming voice. "Go to bed, Cal."

I looked at the wall clock. 10:37 am. I rubbed at my temples. Pain didn't care what the hell time it was.

"Fine, but no more Rip Van Winkle, okay?"

"I'll wake you." And he'd check on me every thirty minutes. "Cal?"

I was halfway to my room when he said my name. "Yeah?"

"You know you're safe now. The Auphe are gone. You're never going back there. Never."

Niko. In all his fierce determination that lay just beneath the surface of that non-pseudo façade of calm that he was; Niko believed in what he said. And I wanted so badly to believe it too. But after this, I knew that I'd never be free of where I'd been. It didn't matter that the Auphe were dead, Tumulus still existed - these days, it did so in all its radioactive glory – but it was still there. I may never physically end up there again, but mentally – well…

"Can you tell my mind that, Nik? Because it hasn't gotten the memo yet. No matter what you say to me, it's pretty damn confident that Hell is alive and well and filled with red-eyes, metal teeth and the ability to kidnap and torture dumb-ass fourteen year old kids."

I hadn't intended the snark behind the words, but it showed nevertheless. My frustration never claimed to have that world famous Niko Leandros control over it. When it wanted to come out and play, it did. Unfortunately, it chose to do so at the wrong moment and at the wrong person.

I was still standing in the front of the hallway when I made my amends. "I didn't mean that, Cyrano. I'm just…tired. My head still hurts. Who knew that falling in a damn hole would lead to such adult trauma? Where was Lassie when I needed her? Cal fell down the evil death hole, girl. Go get help before his brain implodes and opens the door to insanity-ville. Hurry now, bring a rope and straightjacket back with you, maybe you can stop him from self-destruct…"

I firm grip on my shoulder stopped my babbling and I looked up into the mirror-gray eyes of my brother. No, not just my brother. He was more than that; so damned much more than that.

"Stop it, Cal."

I did. Niko then led me into and through several of those meditative deep breaths of his and I settled.

Obviously this wasn't over, the fallout from red-rimmed flashes of my nightmare. Two days of sleep hadn't done much but given me a little more energy to twist and turn it over in my mind. Jesus. Could something so small – in comparison to all the other Titanic sized problems in the last few years – be that thing that finally breaks me?

"No."

Huh?

"You're not broken, Cal. You just need rest and time."

I'll never know how he does that. How he can know me so much better than I could ever hope to know myself.

"You've been poking around in my head, Cyrano. Don't you need permission to do that?"

"I gave myself permission. Stop thinking. Here." He presented me – again – with one of his bracelets. Seems I was never getting away from that thing. "It'll help. At least until you are past this. If your head is okay tomorrow, we'll do a little hunting in the park."

To take my mind off of evil things.

I took the beads – again – and slid them onto my wrist. With my other hand, I reached up and rubbed at my face and then pushed the hair away from my eyes.

"Do I look like shit?"

"You do."

"Figures. I feel like it too. Thanks for not kicking my ass for being a smart ass a few minutes ago. I didn't mean to aim that at you. Not you."

"I know you didn't. But the ass-kicking will still come. Not until you're better though."

"You might have to wait a long time for that."

"I am a patient man, Cal."

Understatement of the last four centuries. There was no human or non-human alive or dead with the patience of my brother. Anyone else would have pushed me off a bridge a long time ago. Hell, I would have pushed me off a bridge.

"But you do test me, little brother."

A bit of Niko humor. It was rare, but when it reared its head, it did lessen the shitty feelings I had about myself.

"It's what I'm best at."

"That and getting into and staying in trouble."

I wavered on my feet - more tired than I thought I was; which was tired enough. Niko pointed towards my bedroom.

"Go. Sleep. Think happy thoughts."

In my case, happy meant dreams about not being eaten, possessed or tortured, or any of those same things happening to my brother. Anything else was candy canes and lollipops.

Happy didn't happen. I spent most of the night awake or rustling in my sheets. Eventually I came out to slump on the couch. A few minutes, later Nik came out of his bedroom and set up camp on the chair close by. I flipped on the TV, he flipped open a twenty inch thick mythology book. One he'd used when I was seventeen and he was home schooling me. It was less of a teaching tool and more of a…well okay, technically it was a teaching tool when he used it to whack me over the head during those times when my attention lapsed – which was often enough. Being post-Tumulus, he went easy on me of course – at least compared to now. Those years I was a shell of what I had been before and what I was now. But I had that one constant, before, after and since. I suspect it's the only thing that kept me semi-sane while I was actually there; just wanting to get home to my brother. Seeing that familiar dark-blond hair and hearing again that oh-so-very tolerant voice that loved me – monster or not – for no other reason than I was his little brother.

I eventually did drop off to sleep. The nearby and safe presence of my brother kept the nightmares away for the remainder of the night. The Cal-fell-in-the-hole saga was over and thankfully, in the end, I was no worse for the wear. The concussion healed. My body decided it was more comfortable not being cold and it stopped shaking. Most importantly, my brain conveniently forgot all about those feelings of my time there – in Tumulus – all those feelings that my Olympic swan dive down the trap hole had forced to the surface.

After a small traumatic detour, life was proceeding to normal again -whatever normal was for us.

Three days after my fall, I was getting my ass kicked in sparring. Four days after my fall, I was kicking some revenant ass in the park.

I had my sanity and I had my brother – even if he was beating the shit out of me at the moment.

Life was good…for now.

The End.