"What happened to Colin?"
Cal took another sip, paused before downing what bourbon was left in his glass. He didn't initially answer.
Waiting, Gillian didn't push. She listened to the steady beat of his heart and moved with rise and fall of his chest, now knowing that he'd tell her when he was ready.
Moving forward, he filled his glass again before repositioning himself back next to her. "Dead."
"I'm sorry." She'd expected it. His body language gave her clear indication.
With a shrug, Cal took another sip. "There's the rub. Saved his arse, compromised myself in the process and the bastard ups and O.D's on me a few years later."
"Accident?" The question came out before she could stop herself and she silently berated herself.
He didn't react, didn't indicate that he made any kind of internal digression toward his mother. "Yeah. Bloke was too fond of mixin' his highs. It was probably inevitable."
"People have to make their own way. We can give advice, try to guide them but ultimately it's up to them."
Cal grunted without comment. Normally he'd bristle at her sliding into shrink territory but he recognized that she was using it to cope with her own burden. After all, Finn had made his own choices. And those choices led directly to his death.
They were quiet for several moments, Cal very conscious of her soft weight against him. His breath hitched when she stroked his leg and gave it a pat. He then started breathing again. She didn't seem to notice.
"Thank you for your honesty Cal."
The words speared through him. Honesty. He was currently being anything but. Well, at least not completely. Holding her felt so good yet the words kept catching at the base of his throat. He'd already admitted everything to her but as far as she was concerned, he didn't remember doing it. He was being a royal tosser for not coming clean but he honestly didn't know if it would help or hurt at this point. She currently had so much to deal with. He didn't want to add to it.
"You're the only one who knows." The words slipped out and he wished they hadn't. Maybe it was the bourbon. "Colin took it to his grave and it wasn't like I was gonna say anythin' to anyone." He finished his drink, repercussions be damned. "At least not 'til now."
Gillian was overwhelmed with the magnitude of his secret. Her heart broke for him even as she realized that that was how he was. There were probably lots of skeletons rattling around in his closet. It was hard to imagine anything more horrendous then what he now shared with her though.
"Probably would never have even told you if…well, if you weren't dealin' with what you're dealin' with." Yeah, the bourbon was definitely kicking in.
He felt her stiffen slightly next to him before she relaxed again.
"That's one heck of a secret to keep inside for so long." Gillian felt a touch of hurt but at the same time she wasn't sure if she blamed him. What had happened was tragic without a doubt. But it was also something that could have sent him to prison. Self-defense would have been hard to prove. Her own situation was a little more black and white, at least she hoped it was.
"Got easier with time, I guess." He poured himself a refill and took a swallow. "'Course there wasn't much choice was there?"
"How awful for you."
He smiled at the compassion in her voice. Such a selfless person. He came over to be with her, comfort her and she'd turned the tables of him. He'd tried to turn them back but it hadn't really worked out that way. Shame sunk in yet again, eliminating the smile.
"What are you thinking?" She moved back from him but watched, a tiny little smile on her lips.
I love you so much and I'm the biggest chicken shit in the world.
"I'm seeing a lot of conflict." Her tone was gentle, no accusation anywhere.
"Thought it was against the rules to read me." It was louder than he'd intended. "You always get pissy when I do it to you."
"Doesn't stop you from trying to do it anyway."
The smile pulled at him again. "True that." He stared back at her. "What do you think you see?"
Not answering, she took of sip of her own drink, eyes fixing on some point beyond him. She was still on the first, the wine she drank earlier having been more than enough. Gillian didn't want to attempt to read him but she suspected there would be a direct correlation between how many glasses of bourbon he ingested and how easy he would be to read. Would she see the love that she knew was hidden beneath the surface? Probably. At least she thought so. Whatever drug he'd been given in that old cabin had loosened his tongue but it was also coupled with the fear that they wouldn't get out of there alive. Of course, she couldn't help but wonder how he'd react if she was the one to come clean. Would he run screaming? Would he push her away (that seemed the most likely scenario) or would he pull her into an embrace that would have new levels of meaning? Or they could just stay in stasis forever. That held little appeal. Both of them could easily go to the old age home steeped in denial at this rate. Maybe she was going to have to be the one. For all his bravado, Cal was just a little boy when it came to emotions. That was part of the reason for this annoying mental dance around making a decision. Shit.
"You're a million miles away." His voice was low, slightly thick. He held a touch of fear about what might be going on behind her eyes. Part of him recognized the fact that certain truths might be revealed but the other part was terrified about it. Once spoken, it wasn't like it could be placed back inside the neat little container in his heart where it had been lurking all these years.
"Just a lot to digest."
He nodded, watching her face as it shifted back toward him, catching his eyes.
Even though Cal would disagree, she would never consider herself especially brave so as she looked him in the eye, her heart started strumming harder than usual as she felt ice drop into her belly. She watched as he frowned at her in confusion as he caught all her mixed signals. Taking a breath, Gillian let it out slowly, attempting to calm her trembling soul. "Do you remember anything else about the cabin?" Her voice was slightly higher and she inwardly cringed.
Uh oh. The moment's finally here. Question was: what should he do about it? Feign ignorance? Tell her the truth? Act shocked if she admits everything? Pretend he doesn't feel the same? No, he couldn't do that. Not anymore. Maybe it was time to step forward. Fuck if that prospect wasn't scary as hell. He had such a horrendous track record. But maybe it was because he was never with the right person. But then again, maybe it was just because he was a selfish git.
"Cal?"
"Yeah luv?" Pretending he'd zoned, his brows rose in question.
A rippling of disappointment ran through her face. "You didn't hear me."
He opened his mouth, closed it again. The look on her face was slowly killing him. He couldn't keep doing this to her, to them. Shit or get off the pot Lightman, what's it going to be?