"Caleb?"

"Ja?"

"You awake?" Beauregard sat up slowly from her place on the ground. They had all made camp in the forest, not having the effort to find a proper place to stay the night, and not really wanting to be separate from each other. Not after the past day.

"I am, though it seems you knew that." Caleb mirrored her movement and sat up as well, rubbing his eyes in a slightly-frantic motion. "Do you need something?"

Beau faltered. He was always so direct, always seeing interactions as transactions. And honestly, she wasn't really sure what she needed. Her question was more instinct than anything. She had been the one to call his name; of course he expected her to have something to say. "No, no, I just, uh, can't sleep. Bored. And you're a great conversationalist, so."

She saw a faint smile from Caleb in the dark. "You flatter me, Beauregard. I would say the two of us are the best talkers of the group. As previous experience has proven."

"Hey, I know none of you saw it which really sucks, but you have me to thank for the Plank King not murdering us. So yes, I'm a great talker."

"Ja, ja, I know. I say that with the highest of confidence."

They sat in silence for a moment, neither looking at the other. Beau gazed at the sky, trying to think of something, anything to say. She wasn't really sure where they stood now, after the whole Nott situation and their argument the day before. Caleb had grasped her shoulder when talking to the others, and she had reassured him, but these things were both out of instinct in a moment of pressure. She was not the best at comforting others, never had been, but Caleb had placed his trust in her for some reason, and she did not want to ruin that. Trust was a valuable thing not to be given freely; they both understood that. She would not take his trust lightly.

Beau tore her gaze from the sky and looked over to Caleb, who had taken to staring at Nott's sleeping form against a nearby tree. His eyes were far away, she could tell, and she knew she had to say something.

"Listen, man...are you okay?"

Caleb startled and refocused his attention towards her, though he still would not look her in the eyes. "I, uh, I am feeling better, yes. I think I purged everything from my stomach earlier, so I have nothing left to be sick from."

"Don't bullshit me, Widogast." Finally, he looked straight at her, and she could see the conflict in his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it. You were full-out panicking earlier, and then Nott told us all about her fucked up past, and then you spilled a whole bunch to everyone under pressure. I'd say your stomach issues are the least of your worries right now."

"When did you become so insightful?" the wizard asked, scratching the bandages on his arms. She could tell he had wrapped them tighter than usual, and his hands had a blue tint to them from the lack of circulation.

"You kind of have to be in this group. No one wants to tell anyone anything."

Caleb huffed. "I suppose that's true. Everything at this point has been a bit forced out of us, ja?"

"Ja," Beau repeated. "And I'm forcing this out of you now. So talk to me."

Caleb's hands did not leave his forearms. He sat there, looking at her but with glazed eyes. Beau had seen him in his moments of panic, watched him shoot fire from his hands and lose control, but she had never seen him like earlier. With the first hints of his people's involvement, she knew he would be in no state to investigate. When he proceeded to puke all over the floor, her first thought was, He's going to run.

She understood, in a way. No, she had never burned her parents to death (though she'd easily admit to sometimes wanting to). But there were some things from her past that she would readily sprint from than ever having to face. And being forced to face it because of terrible actions done to your best friend, well, that was a whole other layer.

But it was different with this group. Beau had stuck to the Mighty Nein in a way she never had before. There was no logical explanation for it; she'd been lumped in with these people for mere months, and yet she sat here at a campsite with them all, willingly walking into danger for their benefit. She had travelled oceans and jungles and temples, all for their benefit. To up and run now when things got hard, especially when she had no one to run to, was unthinkable. That Caleb was so willing to do so hurt, even though she understood.

"I am worried, Beauregard." The wizard's voice shook her from her thoughts. "I am worried of what we found in that basement. I am worried of what we are seemingly heading towards. I am worried that everything I have been running from is catching up with me."

"I think we all are. I don't think a single one of us feels good about anything that's happened since we ended up together." She thought of the Shepherds, of Molly, of Avantika, and of every regret she'd had since that day in the tavern. "But that's why we are together. None of us could do this alone, Caleb. I mean, I probably could. I'm pretty hot and I have fists." She was pleased to see him smile. "But the point is, it's good you told us. It's good you're trusting us. Because now we can help you, whether that means supporting you or murdering Trent or whatever. Either of which I will do, by the way."

Silence sat between them. His eyes had not focused, and hers had not wavered. Beau sometimes wished she could comfort others in the way someone like Caduceus could; she saw his gentle words to Caleb at the apothecary and how heavily the man had leaned on him. Gentleness had never been her strong suit. In the silence, there was a moment she thought it better if she walked away and left Caleb to his thoughts, and she almost did.

No, she then thought. He's not running, and I won't either.

"I believe we've had this conversation before," Caleb finally says, a ghost of a smile on his face.

She smiled back. "Yeah, well maybe you'll actually listen to me if I say it enough."

"You are a hard one to ignore."

"Damn right."

Silence reigned again, but it was comfortable rather than tense. They both sat in the cool moonlight, each reflecting on their own pasts and futures, and in the present they had with each other. Both were content to simply sit by each other, no words needed.

After a moment, Beau sat a bit straighter, asking hesitantly, "so, do you think you'll ever tell the others? You know...the rest of it?" Not having to specify.

Caleb shifted. She could see his uncertainty, but she didn't back down. He needed to face this, one way or another, but she knew it would be hard. So she waited.

Finally, "I told them what they needed to know in the moment. The rest is...unnecessary. For now."

"And in the future? When it is necessary?"

"We will see."

That was all he was willing to say, and they both knew it. Beau nodded, showing her understanding, and in a moment of instinct, she reached out for Caleb's hand that rested on his forearm, patting it a bit awkwardly. She said nothing, the gesture meaning more than any words could.

Caleb nodded back at her. "You...you are a good friend, Beauregard."

Her eyebrows raised. "Friend? Is that what I am? Thought you had to care about those."

He laughed genuinely, which made Beau laugh, as well. "Well, maybe it is not all that bad."

They realized they had come to an understanding, and both felt comfortable to leave the conversation at that. Beau shifted her weight to let her back rest against his, and Caleb leaned into the contact naturally. They sat there back to back, both leaning on the other as they fell into sleep. Whatever the Underdark brought, they could face it tomorrow.

And they would face it together.