I don't own the book series of Caliban Leandros by Rob Thurman in any shape or form.

Paring- Nik Cal

Rating- M for Language and Character Death

Comments- Slightly Au-ish.

He'd been in a downward spiral for days now. Guilt had overcome him. What could he really do, though? It's his brother, his lifeline, his everything. Nik was the only reason he was alive today. The only god damn reason. He knew he shouldn't mope and whine, but he was all that he had and Cal wasn't willing to give up the last shred to life he had.

The system they had worked out consisted of only the two of them. Not Promise, not Goodfellow, just the two of them. And it was a sweet victory and triumph to have a brother and a best friend like Nik watching his back.

In the reminiscing of his brother, the guilt had slid away giving way to a burning sensation in his heart. He knew it shouldn't have happened like this, but Call did all he could to protect his brother. And it had worked, but as he watched the sleeping form in this hospital bed, maybe his mind reasoned it wasn't enough. Maybe Nik was a hairline away from the monotone sound that meant the end of the world for Cal.

The guilt returned. He knew as he leaned back in his seat that he hadn't protected Nik well enough. Now there was nothing left to do, but wait. Wait until he woke up annoyed at being strung down to a hospital bed; wait until he started flicking my head with his finger; wait until he saw I didn't get hurt that badly… Just wait… Waiting sucked.

Rolling his hands over his blooded pants, he looked back down away from the smooth blonde locks of hair, away from the olive skin, away from the smooth blond locks, away from the hospital gown and away from all the guilt… Though there was nothing to occupy his mind from tearing himself down, so he just closed his eyes and let the demons inside of him wreck havoc.

Sleep must have hit him, because the next thing he knew, he was already on the balls of his feet without any weapons glaring at the door as it lazily creaked open. Seconds slowed down as he stared menacingly at the door, time ticking through an hour glass. His eyes burned as the door finally clicked open, revealing a nurse with a clipboard. She didn't falter as she walked into the room. Not looking up, the site of a disheveled Cal a normal occurrence for her.

Lowering his eyes, Cal chuckled humorlessly at how effortlessly she moved about the room as he flopped back down in the chair that carried the outline of many nights of worry. Sinking into his imprint, he stared lifelessly at Nik as the nurse switched the IV bag and checking the monitors and his eye function. Cal watched her idly, frowning deeply as his cold gray hues were razor sharp on her fingers. Once she determined everything fine, she scribbled writing on the clipboard, dropped it into the box at the end of the bed and stalked out.

His ears perked up at the sound of a soft sigh leaving the blond's lips. Wide eyes, he leaned closer to investigate, his ear over Nik's mouth. All that greeted him was shallow breath. All the answer he needed… Breathing an aggravated and guilty sigh, he leaned back into the seat, the blood cakes into the five dollar upholstery.

The wind howled slowly through the skittering trees and into the clearing where the Leandros brothers stood, waiting for their payment to show up. Cal shifted idly, not noting the change in smell as his stomach grumbled loudly, earning a very pointed stare from his brother. Grinning, Cal opened his mouth to say something when he tasted it.

Spinning on his heel, he turned knocking a large bear sized claw aimed at his throat. Gritting his teeth, he whipped out his gun pointedly shooting into the open mouth of the werebear. As the rounds echoed through the clearing, Cal felt himself regain composure. The rounds soon turned into empty clicking noises and Cal hissed, throwing it aside, barely dodging another claw.

Dropping to the ground to slip away from the bear, Cal rolled away still not moving fast enough. The claw came down on the back of his leg, shredding the skin there. Hissing deeply, pain was all Cal could register as the world dimmed into darkness until he was able to labor his breathing and then the world slammed into him with its full color.

Grunting angrily, he raised his other gun, still on the ground, slammed a clip into it and shot blindly into the mouth and the face. The hunking beast convulsed before him with every bullet that ruptured its fur and skin, but was otherwise unfazed by pain. With another claw about to drop, Cal could feel the back of his jacket being tugged. He felt the rocks under his back and the grass in between his fingers as the pain of his leg hitting the ground showed everything in a crystal clear light. Soon he was pulled to his feet. His leg faltered a moment, almost causing him to collapse, but he found if he concentrated, he could put pressure on it.

Nik didn't need to say anything. A look did it all.

"Yeah, I know. I'm trying, Nik."

The wereberes weren't really hard to beat alone, but in a pack they protected each other. Just like Cal and Nik.

Spitting a glob of saliva out. Cal armed himself with a katana instead, knowing ammunition didn't as much dent the creatures attacking them. He slipped the gun back into its holster and caught the sword Nik tossed him.

Surging forward, Cal let his animalistic side take over. Blood accumulated on his shirt, his pants, his jacket, his weapons, the grass, trees, everything. But soon the number of werebears dwindled and Cal was able to think past the need to survive, the burning in his lungs and the feeling like he was going to throw up.

Limping out of the woods, Cal mused as to who sent them, what they were there for. Thoughts slid into place and ideas were formulated, but he still didn't know why they were targeting him…

Gray eyes snapped open and Cal's limp soon became a full bat-out-of-hell run. It was all a distraction, a plot from the beginning. To get him away from Nik. Swallowing the cold feeling and the pain that enveloped him all over, he pushed his aching body faster as thoughts of Nik consumed him.

Slamming into the clearing, his eyes locked on Nik, standing upright, wiping the blood off his katana. He was alive. Cal's run turned into a tortured jog as the pain kept him limping every other bound. Finally it slowed back into his half assed gait with a limp. His heart beat loudly in his ears.

Something was off and he knew it. Nik was standing there, alive, not bleeding, but the situation was all wrong. Casually strolling up, Cal pressed his back into Nik's and re-loaded clips into his gun. He wanted to be ready when this son of a bitch popped out… But he didn't. It didn't happen.

A crack of a tree limb made both Cal and Nik snap their necks towards the sky searching for the son of a bitch. After a second of searching, Cal knew that they weren't going to find it. Something in his bones told him so. It wasn't until Cal could feel the change in the temperature and the smell. It was ungodly.

"Mine. All mine. He dies."

The razor sharp teeth whispered to him. His heart seized with fear as his muscles creaked with effort. He couldn't move. God dammit, he couldn't move. His eyes shut as he growled with every ounce of his being. He had to get to Nik. Had to- Gritting his teeth against the resistance and pain, he pulled all of it with him. His veins popped as he breathed deeply, one word motivating him.

"Nik."

That's when the sounds started. Not screams, not even whimpers, but the sound of claws puncturing skin. The sound of ripping and the subtle grit of Nik's teeth.

And that's how Cal unraveled.

Snapping free of the restraint, he spun around to come face to face with the macabre scene. The Auphe knew better than to stick around when Cal was filled with this much rage. By the time Cal got wise, all of the holes were closed up.

"I'm sorry. So sorry, Nik."

Sitting back, Cal frowned deeply and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The stress and the guilt got to him. He dreamed of that again…If only he had been faster, had broken free, and had noticed the signs. If only he hadn't been so stupid.

He soon gave way to sleep again.

Woken by conversation, Cal groggily jumped up, his eyes wide. Nik sat up with the IV in his arm. Alive. Talking. Cal thought he would be moved to tears, but instead he grinned like an idiot.

"What happened?"

"Sir, go back to sleep."

Nik argues some more, saying things that Cal didn't quite understand. Soon the nurse gave up and stalked angrily out of the door for more medication probably.

"Hey, Cyrano-"

"Nik."

They both looked towards the door to see Goodfellow standing there, his expression unreadable. Nick and he locked eyes solemnly.

Cal's brow furrowed. "Nik, what's with the lemon face?" He grinned half-heartedly, his chest giving a painful squeeze. Nik wouldn't look at him. Not once. "Nik!"

"How did it happen?" For the first time since Cal knew him, Nik dropped his eyes down to his long drab fingers. His face wasn't its usual calm, emotionless slate, but his mouth drooped and his eyes screamed.

"When you were attacked, he broke free and ran to help you… But he didn't see the last Auphe…." Goodfellow trailed off, leaning against the wall, frowning deeply, his own eyes seeming to tell stories of sadness.

"How?" His voice was a quiet storm.

Goodfellow was silent for a second, almost as if debating to tell him. Tell him what?

Panic set into Cal as his heart pounded deep in his throat. Suffocating him, he gripped the insides of his pockets and surged forward. "Nik! Puck! God damn it! Look at me!" He sucked in a breath, staring angrily at the two of them. He let the puff of breath escape his lips sadly. "Please…" Desperation gripped him.

Nik was getting even more agitated and soon he screamed the question again, startling Goodfellow with the raise of his voice. He'd never raised his voice. Ever. Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. Words caught in his throat, Cal looked towards them, still not understanding.

"He…. It speared him right through his chest with its claws… And pulled out his heart," Goodfellow swallowed, raising his hand almost as if to gesture in a way when he realized that Nik probably didn't wanna see. His hands clenched by his side; useless. "I'm sorry, Nik… Calib-…. Cal is dead…"

The words. Even as the fumbled out of the puck's mouth, seemed wrong. He was here, right here next to them, screaming in their faces. Everything finally clicked into place as the room held nothing but the sad beat of the heart monitor.

He was… dead. Long dead…

Cal dropped his hands and just screamed for all that he was worth. Had he been alive, his lungs would have hurt, his voice would have been raw and tears would have been falling. He was useless; always useless.

"He spent his last waking moments saying sorry to you, Nik." He didn't know what to say. When Nik died, he offered Cal little comfort, but at least for Nik he was making an effort. A half assed effort, but it was something.

Nik still didn't say anything as he sat still. The only sign that he was alive was the constant murmur of the machines and the soft as baby skin breathing coming from him every now and again. It was just a soft puff that he exhaled that let Cal know he was checked-in.

Goodfellow shifted his footing and frowned deeply, breathing a forlorn sigh. His hands raised, almost animated, before dropping back into his pockets. "Look, Nik. I know this is hard for you, but you need to get your ass in gear. You're almost completely healed and it's been three weeks…"

Three weeks? It hadn't felt that long. The time had rolled together.

"Get out."

Rather than putting up a fight, Goodfellow just threw his hands up and sighed aggravated. But without another word, Goodfellow was out of the door, it shutting behind his five hundred dollar back.

Once the room had regained its quiet, Nik dropped his head into his hands. No tears, no words, but Cal could feel the loss and grief radiating off of his brother and his own heart thumped.

"Nik," He breathed, stepping forward, willing contact with the blond assassin. For a second, Nik's hands twitched, but nothing seemed to rouse the depressed man. "Please, just look at me. I'm dying… Well, I'm already dead, but God, just look at me."

He flopped back down into his chair and dropped his own head into his hands. It didn't feel right so he just lay his head on the hospital bed, next to Nik's thigh.

"Nik, remember when I used to come home from school with a detention and you would always discipline me by hitting my knuckles with a ruler?" Cal grinned in memory of the teen Nik with a stern expression. "Or when I used to try to steal cookies from the store and you'd catch me? You'd beg for money from sweet old ladies and then buy the cookies for me, telling me it was the last time it would happen…" The pain had seeped back into his voice and he gripped Nik's hand. "I I don't wanna be without you, Nik."

Minutes passes as Cal just help the olive man's hand silently. When Cal thought they'd both been all but lost, Nik looked out to the window, breathed a sigh and tightened his hand.

"I'd never thought I'd be losing you, Cal."