Thanks as always to my readers, especially those who reviewed. You make my day sparkle.
BW4eva: Don't worry- come hell or high water, I am determined to finish this story. I did lose interest a bit for about two weeks when the words just weren't sounding right, but I'm back on track.
Eva: That's weird. Did you put the "at" sign in the right place? dick0382 "at" umn . edu. I don't mean to keep nagging about it, but the idea I have in mind definitely wouldn't work in a sequel since it's based in a reality where things go very differently than they will in this story. And it doesn't really work as a dream sequence since it would require about two chapters of Lisa questioning exactly where the eff that came from. :D Plus, it's my little gift to you, as my resident CxL shipper.
Perhaps-A-Star: It's back on track! :) And wow...I think that's one of the biggest compliments a writer can hear. Now I'm all worried that I'm going to mess up in the next few chapters and you'll be all *table flip*. :D Love seeing you pop in, by the way!
Betty: Glad I could brighten your day. :)
Pirate Gyrl: Oh God, I had about three major redos on how their conversation went. One was Lisa deciding that she couldn't give up her dreams of kids because it meant too much to her, one was Jackson just closing up again when being open was just earning him more questions and more prodding, and one was Lisa just losing her shit and not being talked down. But they just neeeever seemed right.
As for your fears, I can tell you this- I have actually figured out this story to the END. Yes, there's going to be an END. God knows how many chapters it will be. I predict ten, but back in chapter 7, I told son-of-puji that I figured there would be "at least 8 more chapters", and we all can see how that prediction went. But I digress. The end will be bittersweet. Not hopelessly tragic, but not really happy, either. And Jackson has another few sucker punches in store, so we'll see how long his whole "I need to be alone" will work out for him.
WARNING: The beginning of this chapter does have more Ben back story, but I promise it's relevant to the rest of the chapter. So if you're not really into that, don't give up! :) In fact, most of this chapter is very OC-centric...it's Caleb and Ben for about 9000 words. But it's kind of important stuff. This chapter is even longer than the previous, and it's a bit hectic. Hope it makes sense in the end...lots of memories and thoughts flying everywhere.
Chapter 35: The Sleeper Awakens
Caleb placed his palms flat against the tiled wall, bracing himself as he bowed his head, letting the hot water stream down his neck and back. Despite the fact that the only light in the room entered through the barely-open door, he still felt the need to close his eyes.
The adrenaline rush of his encounter had passed, and now he just felt like an asshole. Not to mention completely moronic. He also still had that lingering thrill comparable to quitting a shit job now that he had gotten everything off his chest, but that was mostly gone as well. After all, what had finally confession accomplished? He had added even more tension to his relationship with Jackson at a time better served for...well...not creating more problems.
He could only imagine how the others felt about him now. Jackson was the easiest to figure out- he was likely betrayed, angry, hurt, and a myriad of other negativity. But even though Caleb regretted the way in which he had told his brother, he definitely didn't regret telling him. Jackson had a right to know, really. And it wasn't like things had been great between them before- it was just another issue thrown between them. But this could likely be the final nail. Neither Jackson nor Caleb were men who tended to forgive and forget.
Would Lisa be able to trust him again? When it came down to it, Caleb just didn't know much about her. She had hardly spoken of any kind of past other than her scar- most of their discussions remained in the present, with hints of future thrown in. With everything that was happening to her, it was a toss up as to whether she'd roll with it like she had everything else, or close herself off to him. But based on her behavior after his confession, it seemed to him that she was in the former category, so he wasn't as worried about her. Even if she did reject him for it, naturally it wouldn't bother him as much as Jackson or Ben doing so.
And Ben...well, Ben was more of an enigma. Caleb had been thrown off when Ben had expressed hurt over being ignored so many years ago. Normally, he would have anticipated the bitterness- and he had, really- but until that point, it had seemed that Ben had dealt with his leaving, just like he had every other shitty thing that had happened in his life. It had almost seemed like they had picked up where they had left off, but now...Caleb wasn't sure.
His musings were interrupted when he heard the main door opening, and he groaned in frustration. He had stayed in Ben's room because he knew that the other man was picking up Nikita and the trainees, and getting them sorted- Caleb could actually be alone here. He had doubted that Jackson would come back for him, and assumed that Lisa would go back to their room if she didn't stay with Jackson, so who the hell was there?
"You know, what's the point of having my own room if I never get to be alone in here?" Caleb shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he heard Ben come into the room.
"What are you even doing here?" he asked, confused. "Did you decide to abandon them?"
"If I wanted to be Jackson's bitch, I'd have become a courier," came the reply. "I sent Jeff instead. And, I figured that you'd be wallowing around in self-pity-" Give the man a prize... "-so I decided to pull you out of it." Caleb shook his head lightly. Fantastic. But he definitely could have worse company. "Nice mood lighting."
Caleb groaned again when the bathroom light was switched on, the skin of his eyelids now a piercing red. Granted, his hangover wasn't as bad as he would have expected, but he still had a massive headache. He stood straight up as the shower curtain was pulled back and he came face to face with Ben.
"Christ, you're naked," the taller man announced, averting his gaze in mock disgust while throwing a towel at Caleb. Caleb quickly turned off the shower and began to dry himself, chuckling lightly.
"I tend to do that while showering," he replied good-naturedly. He was well aware that Ben couldn't care less, but it was still fun to play the game. "Sorry if my stunning physique offended your sensibilities." Ben scoffed, sitting on the counter.
"Oh please," he countered. "You're no Jackson." He grinned. "It's probably that shitty hack ink more than anything else." Caleb glanced down at his chest, staring at his tribal scorpion tattoo. It was years-old, and he had mostly forgotten it was even there. It had noticeably faded over the years, and the edges were a little smudgy, but that didn't really bother him.
"I don't know," he replied, wrapping the towel around his waist. "I've always liked it." He smiled absently, remembering the day he had gotten it. It all started with Ben coming in his room and asking a supposedly simple question: "Can I tattoo you?" Ben had recently purchased the supplies, and wanted to test out his skills. A few drinks later, Caleb found the courage to grant him permission. Happily, he had been satisfied with the results.
Caleb remained silent. Ben was talking again, but he wasn't listening. It was funny how something as insignificant as an old tattoo can make a person recall things they hadn't thought about in years. He was remembering the first few months that he had known Ben, when they were still teenagers. They had gotten along somewhat well, much better than Ben and Jackson had, but weren't really friends.
Ben had been so reckless, always causing trouble. He claimed to do it for the fun of it, and Caleb hadn't understood why he even bothered going to college. And it wasn't minor things like pulling fire alarms- he had pulled cons, broken into cars. The brothers probably should have turned him in, but they hadn't, and looking back on it, Caleb wasn't even sure why. Maybe he was apathetic about it, maybe he saw something in Ben that told him he could be helped- he didn't remember.
Then Thanksgiving break came, and while their roommate went home for those few days, Ben and the twins had opted to stay in the dorm. During a night of drinking, Caleb had confessed to Ben that they weren't going home because they really didn't have one. He had told him what had happened with their parents, and about their uncle who was a guardian only in the legal definition of the word.
In return, Ben had told Caleb that he didn't have a home, either. His father had been killed many years ago, and his mother had moved back to Russia when he was 15. He hadn't wanted to leave, and so he had run away and had spent the last few years in the foster system, leaving his last home to come to school.
Caleb had quickly realized that what Ben was really saying was that he had no one. He didn't have his parents, his two sisters had gone to Russia with his mother (as far as he knew), and the foster parents he had stayed with were the kind who were in it for the checks- the ones who actually wanted a bond wanted nothing to do with Ben and his behavior. Caleb couldn't remember the exact words he had said anymore, but eventually he had basically challenged Ben. He wasn't easily scared away, and he had told the other man that there was nothing he could tell him or do- within reason- that would make him back down.
That had been the start of their friendship, really. And it had evolved over the years from being his friend's main confidant to Ben asking to tattoo him and giving him a lap dance just to see how far he could push him. And Caleb had yet to back down from any of it.
To him, that amateur scorpion was symbolic of their relationship, and as it faded and blurred, he had forgotten about it...
Caleb looked back up, making eye contact with Ben, who was staring at him quizzically. "You back now?" Ben asked, amused. "You've been standing there for fifteen minutes." He burst out laughing at Caleb's obvious surprise, shaking his head. "Nah, it wasn't even a minute, probably."
Caleb closed his eyes again, pressing his palm to his forehead at the loud noise. "Yeah, I thought you'd need some help with that, too," Ben said as Caleb sat on the edge of the bathtub. "I brought you a present." Caleb opened his eyes to see a thermos on the counter next to Ben, and couldn't keep from chuckling when the other man pulled an egg from his hoodie. Of all the places to keep that...
Setting the egg on the counter, Ben poured the contents of the thermos, which Caleb could now identify as orange juice, into a nearby glass. Oh goddamn it...a Bull's Eye. He cringed, propping his chin in his hand and watching as Ben dropped the raw egg into the juice, tossing the shell aside. He then covered the opening of the glass with his hand and shook vigorously, mixing the drink before passing the glass to Caleb.
Caleb stared at the drink in distaste. Of all the common foods, he hated eggs the most. Since Ben had introduced him to this remedy years ago, he already knew that he wouldn't be able to taste the egg, but knowing it was there created a whole different kind of nausea.
"Come on, don't hurt my feelings," Ben said, managing to pull off a sulk despite his amusement. "I squeezed that juice just for you. Oh, and look-" he continued, fishing a pair of red wayfarers out of his pocket, "-more presents." He jumped from the counter and leaned forward, putting the sunglasses on Caleb's face.
Caleb smiled again, tipping his head back to down the drink all at once. It was amazing how even after all those years apart, Ben could still make him feel better so quickly. He handed the empty glass back to his friend, unable to suppress a gag. "Thanks," he muttered, adjusting the sunglasses. "So what now, self-appointed babysitter?" he asked, looking up again.
Ben sat on the counter again, pulling his knees close to rest the arches of his feet on the edge. He looked like an awkward bird. "Well, I figured we would go back to your room and clean up some of that mess." He eyed Caleb, his smile fading. "Wouldn't want the maid thinking there was some kind of domestic dispute or anything..."
Caleb cleared his throat and stared at the floor again, unsure of how to respond to that. "Yeah," he finally replied, his voice hushed, "that's a good idea." He gathered his clothes from the floor, quickly dressing. It was odd- Ben definitely had taken a dig at him, but he didn't actually see or hear real judgement coming from him.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he finally asked after turning to face Ben again. The other man furrowed his eyebrows.
"Like what?" he asked, confused. Caleb hung the towel on its rack and sat down next to his friend.
"Like you always do," he replied. "Jackson looked at me like I was some kind of stranger, and Lisa was giving me all that pity..." He trailed off, not really sure what he was getting at. He just found it...strange?...that Ben's facial expression hadn't changed much.
"How am I supposed to be looking at you?" Ben asked, propping his elbows on his knees and crossing his arms. "Which part was supposed to shock or surprise or disgust me?" Caleb shot him a pointed look- the taller man knew damn well- and Ben nodded in concession. "Yeah, well, it didn't. I already knew all that."
Caleb's jaw dropped slightly. How? How could Ben figure it out when no one else had? Even his brother and wife hadn't seen it. "I have eyes, and they work," Ben explained, seemingly reading his mind, "and I don't have some idea of who you are...you just are who you are."
Caleb continued to remain silent, rubbing the back of his neck. He supposed it made sense in a way. It was no secret that Jackson didn't really see him for who he was, at least to him. Not that it was Jackson's fault...Caleb had learned over the years to allow people to see only what he wanted them to see. It wasn't foolproof, obviously, but for the most part, it had kept him relatively safe.
"And I suppose you knew that I would come back?" he asked, unable to hide slight bitterness in his voice. He wasn't used to people seeing through him...it was unnerving. Ben shook his head, jumping down from the counter.
"No, I really thought you were done," he replied, walking out of the bathroom. Caleb quickly followed him out into the hallway. "I mean, I knew that you enjoyed the work more than you wanted to admit, and I knew you hated yourself for it, so I figured that when you left, it was for the best. For you."
Caleb followed Ben into the elevator, leaning against the wall. He still didn't know quite what to say. Ben was balancing on the edge of calm detachment and an underlying bitterness- he was under control, but every once in awhile, a small jab would break out. He knew that it was intentional- Ben was always well aware of the words coming from his mouth.
"Was I pissed that you left like everyone else important to me?" Ben continued as the elevator rose. "Yeah, but you have to just fucking deal sometimes, you know?" He shrugged, not making eye contact with Caleb, who for his part, was feeling smaller and smaller. He really hated being reminded of how much he hurt everyone when he left. "I knew you had to get away from it, and besides, nothing lasts. Relationships, I mean. They fall apart or grow, and even then, eventually they're over..."
Caleb still remained silent, withdrawing deeper into himself. It was odd. Despite his problems with Jackson, the two had still managed to at least speak to each other throughout the years. They were able to hold onto their bond, managing to salvage it minimally. Not Ben. The only time they had spoken since Caleb left that apartment was at the wedding, and after that, not one word was exchanged until the night at the King of Diamonds.
They had been best friends, and even that title didn't really describe their relationship, and Caleb had to shut him out completely. He knew that speaking to Ben would draw him right back into the world he couldn't be part of anymore. He would never be able to explain it- it was just something he had known inherently. That definitely didn't mean that Ben was more important than Jackson- after all, Caleb didn't think he could ever handle having his brother completely out of his life. It meant that he would rather not have Ben at all than have a half-assed phone-based relationship with him.
As the two men exited the elevator, Ben was eyeing Caleb skeptically. "How am I supposed to pull you out of this if you don't say anything?" he asked, and Caleb laughed dryly. He wondered if this was how Jackson felt around Lisa. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Ben...but he knew that once he started, everything would come out, and he just wasn't comfortable sharing all of himself with anyone. His darkest secrets were his own.
"I never asked you to, did I?" he replied, stopping at his hotel door. Ben raised his eyebrows, seemingly deflecting Caleb's brush off.
"Alright, if that's how we're going to play it..." He leaned forward. "I'm daring you to talk to me."
Motherfucker. "Not funny," Caleb snapped, unlocking his hotel room door. This wasn't some kind of game, for God's sake. He shut the door behind him, but Ben caught it, following him into the room.
"Am I laughing?" Ben replied. Caleb tossed his key card onto a nearby table and dropped onto the bed. The drink had yet to take effect, and this wasn't helping. Ben stood in front of him, staring down. "I'm dead serious. What you did was completely fucked up, and I want to...help, but you kind of need to talk to me for that to happen."
Caleb gazed up at Ben, glad for the small amount of protection provided by the sunglasses. "Why do you suddenly want to know?" he asked honestly. "What happened to 'it's not my business' and 'let's not get into that heavy shit'?"
Ben shrugged. "I thought you could handle it yourself," he replied simply, "and I was wrong, so now it's my business because you're my friend." He sat on the floor, resting his back on the bureau. "I know you like to keep these things to yourself...you're scared that I'm going to judge you or decide that I don't want to hear it, and I'm telling you, that's not going to happen. And I'm not trying to just tell you what to do. I have some idea of why it happened, but I'd rather hear it from you."
Caleb studied the younger man intensely for a few moments, trying to decide if he meant what he said. He thought back to the previous night, his yearning for someone to confide in...was Ben that person? But he couldn't...if he opened up to Ben, what then? He was leaving after this was over. To really let someone else in only to leave them immediately...
No. Caleb couldn't do that. And that was why he couldn't confide in Jackson or even Lisa, not that he was remotely close enough to her to know where to begin. Within the next week, they would all be out of his life again for the most part. And Caleb would be back in his "normal" life...alone.
"What are you going to do now that your team's dead?" he found himself blurting out, surprising himself. A flicker of disappointment crossed Ben's face, and he scratched his jawline.
"I guess I'll go back to New York if Jackson lets me back on his team," he replied, not commenting on the subject change. "I'm pretty sure he will...I mean, if we don't all get killed by Keefe or hunted down for killing Marie." He shrugged. "If I wasn't needed here, I'd probably just go to Oklahoma and kill the bitch myself, and then disappear. But that's not really an option."
Caleb did a double take at the confession. "Why would you do that?" he asked, surprised. He wasn't aware Ben had any desire to quit working for the agency.
"Why should Jackson lose everything because of my secrets and my fuck up with her?" Ben asked. "If I would have kept my damn mouth shut about the Chechens, she probably wouldn't be so apt to have me killed, and this wouldn't be happening." Caleb shrugged, sliding to the floor, his back against the bed.
"It probably would have happened eventually," he replied. "Jackson wouldn't go to all that trouble just because..." he trailed off. Of course Jackson would put everything on the line for Ben. They had their differences, but Jackson was a fiercely loyal man when it came down to it. The other reasons were a convenience, with the hit on Ben being the proverbial straw, but he could imagine Jackson never entertaining the idea until one of his friends was at risk. "But it will work itself out. Everyone knows how Marie is, so you can easily explain it."
Ben nodded. "Probably," he responded. "As long as we're given the chance." He laughed softly. "It's going to be a fucking mess for a while...the CIA might actually have to get involved. I don't think that's ever happened before. But yeah, I'll probably end up in New York. Why?" He eyed Caleb suspiciously. "You want to come?"
Maybe. Caleb shook his head. "No," he replied. "I keep telling Jackson I'm done after this, and-"
"So you're trying to save face," Ben finished, his tone still calm, as though he were just stating a fact. "You don't want to admit that you made a mistake walking out."
Caleb narrowed his eyes. "I never said that," he replied forcefully. What part of 'I hated myself that way' and 'I want to help people' didn't Ben understand?
"No, but that doesn't make it any less true," Ben replied. "As far as I can see, you only hated that you liked it. But you never really hated the job, did you?" Caleb said nothing, clenching his teeth. He knew where this was going. The only thing keeping him from putting an end to the discussion was the lack of accusation in Ben's tone. No, Ben sounded more curious than anything else, and Caleb knew that vehemently contradicting him would only lead to convincing Ben that he was right.
"No, you didn't really hate it, because you never so much as gave me, Jamie, Rick, Cheryl a judgemental look, let alone actually scorned us for what we do. And we all enjoyed it." Ben tilted his head, looking as though he were trying to solve some logic puzzle. "But you hold yourself to some double standard- it's not okay for you to enjoy it...why?"
Caleb stared at Ben in disbelief. "Because I don't want to like it," he replied, exasperated. He was tired of repeating himself. "I shouldn't enjoy making people suffer, even if-"
"People are suffering anyway," Ben interrupted, that same calm tone back. "And I don't mean that in a 'he's going to die eventually, so run him the fuck down in your SUV' kind of way. There's always someone suffering at the hands of someone else. And if you can help that person- why the fuck shouldn't you enjoy it? Because society says 'killing is wrong'?" His voice began to rise, and he pulled himself to his feet. "I don't get it, man. Since when..." He paused, his eyebrows furrowed. "Since when do you care what everyone else thinks?"
Caleb frowned, watching Ben get more and more upset. He wanted his friend to calm down, but he didn't have the heart to interrupt him at this point. Well, really, he didn't know what he should be doing. This kind of behavior was just unprecedented. Ben had always gone out of his way to keep things light, and when things got too serious, his main motto was 'put it past you and move on'. He didn't remember the last time he had actually seen Ben getting so distressed.
"That's just not who you are," Ben continued, sounding more confident and at the same time, more confused. "I mean, you came back. And don't tell me you came back because Jackson needed help. If you really didn't want to get back into this, you wouldn't have. You put yourself first." Any other time, Caleb would have taken offense to this last statement, and argued it wasn't true, but Ben was still simply stating it as a fact. And Caleb knew that he was right- in the last few years especially, he usually did put his own wants and needs first. He himself had told Lisa as much.
Ben dropped back down, dragging his hand across his forehead. "So what's going on? This is part of who you are...you're a killer and a manipulator-."
Caleb slid his fingers under the sunglasses, rubbing his closed eyes. "But I don't want to be," he repeated. What Ben said made sense on the surface, but it just wasn't that simple. It wasn't just that he clung to his old world, where killing was just wrong...Ben was right- Caleb didn't care that any of his friends did it, or even enjoyed it, but it wasn't for him.
"So?" Ben asked. "You tried doing something else, and it didn't work. You're drawn to this, and you know it. If you just keep denying who you are, all you do is hurt yourself...well, and other people, but we're all adults. What's important is what it does to you."
Caleb shrugged. He didn't want to talk about it anymore. Ben was set in his opinion, and trying to explain his own side of things just took them in circles. Besides, it wasn't as though he was unaware that he was hurting himself...but he had been doing so while in the agency as well. Reverting right back to his old self wouldn't solve his problems, either.
"Alright," Ben finally said, getting to his feet again. "Let's get you something to eat." Caleb watched his friend head toward the phone and order a breakfast- hashbrowns, bacon, toast, and eggs over easy. He knew the eggs were for Ben, so he said nothing. This was yet another old routine for them- he didn't know how many times Ben had made him breakfast when he was hungover...it was his comfort food. And Ben had always argued that breakfast wasn't complete without eggs, so he had ended up making and eating them himself.
"While we wait, how about a little bet?" Ben asked, going through Caleb's bag. The shorter man turned to face him knowingly. He knew the bet, but not the wager. After a few seconds of searching, Ben pulled out two Colts and set them on a nearby table. "Field strip and reassemble," he reminded Caleb, who just nodded. He was fairly sure he knew what was coming next. "If I win, you come to New York...if you win, you keep trying to be...normal."
Caleb scoffed. While he was undefeated in this contest, the last time he had participated was years ago. He smiled faintly, remembering Ben having to drink that odd concoction of pickle, jalapeno, and grape juices mixed with vanilla hazelnut coffee creamer, some maple syrup, and two alka seltzer tablets. But this was different. The wager wasn't just some throwaway, and Caleb wasn't nearly as experienced as he used to be.
"Fuck that," he replied. "I've hardly touched those guns in years, and I'm hungover. Do you think I'm that stupid?" Ben grinned knowingly, bracing himself on one of the chairs.
"I think you won't be able to resist," he replied. "You have a title to defend and refusing to participate is as good as a loss in your head. It's that Rippner pride of yours." When Caleb didn't move, Ben walked over to the mini bar. "If it makes you feel better, I can finish what's left of the whiskey first."
Caleb pulled himself to his feet. He could only imagine what Jackson would say if Ben got drunk hours before they went for Keefe. "I don't think that's a good- stop," he interrupted himself, pulling the bottle away from Ben. He inhaled deeply, eyeing the two guns on the table. "Alright," he finally said, his confidence quickly growing. "But when I still beat you...I'm writing 'Caleb's bitch' on your hoodie."
Ben laughed. "Deal," he replied. "But I think my hoodie will be Sharpie-free, personally." The two men sat at either side of the table, staring at the guns. Caleb wouldn't admit it, but part of him did want to go back to New York and rejoin his friends. At the same time, he knew it wouldn't be the best idea, so why not leave it up to something so simple?
"You going to keep the sunglasses on?" he heard Ben asked, and grinned up at him.
"I think I'll be fine with them on," he replied cockily, provoking another smirk from his friend. The two men stared at each other, the anticipation growing until it became almost unbearable. Caleb finally gave a go-ahead nod, and they were off. He ejected the magazine from the Colt and set it down on the table, turning the gun on its side and pulling back the slide to eject the remaining round from the chamber.
Catching it in his hand, Caleb began to rotate the barrel bushing, releasing the plunger tube and spring. He didn't even have to think about it- it was like he and the gun had never been apart. Instead, fragments of memories came flying back to him rapid-fire as he removed the slide stock and frame. He remembered the afternoon Ben had challenged him to a fencing duel, and how Jackson had barely acknowledged them flying around the apartment, pawn shop swords clashing. He remembered the sleepless nights with his brother and the rest of his friends, planning jobs, executing jobs, working together in seamless unity.
Caleb remembered the game nights, the bad movie nights, and the mornings after the heavy drinking, when they were often woken by Ben's loud music, when they were miserable but still comfortable- when Jackson was happier. When he was happier on those occasions that he allowed himself to be. He remembered their first Thanksgiving together, full of burned food and screaming arguments until they had given up and gone to a deli for turkey sandwiches. And their second, with better food and a group of strippers- exotic dancers- that Ben had invited. Memories that were mundane, but had defined Caleb for those years.
He barely registered the clicking noises and the metal on metal as he removed the barrel from the Colt and set the remaining piece on the table, only to pick it right back up again and begin to reassemble. This was second-nature...there were more important things on his mind.
Caleb could tell himself that he was only suffering from nostalgia. He could pretend that he was only considering staying because he was in it and not thinking clearly. He could claim that he didn't know whether he was missing it now because of his close proximity to Jackson and Ben or because really, he had always missed it.
He could tell himself many things, but that didn't make any of it true. Finally, the two almost-simultaneous thuds registered in his brain as he and Ben slammed their reassembled weapons on the table. As Caleb made eye contact with his friend, he knew they both realized that Caleb's gun had hit first. He had won...
Ben gave Caleb a sad smile. "Guess it's back to the hospital, right?" he asked softly. Caleb returned the gesture, and shook his head. His hand trembled as he slowly held it up over the table, opening his palm to reveal the round that had come from the chamber. He hadn't put it back in the magazine before loading the gun.
"Guess not," he replied, his voice shaking slightly from the adrenaline. He could claim that palming the round was a subconscious move, but he had known what he was doing. He had willingly chosen the less safe option- he wanted to come back.
Ben's face registered shock before dissolving into a knowing grin. "You sly bastard," he noted approvingly. Caleb tipped his palm, letting the round bounce onto the table with a sharp pinging noise. He could have legitimately let Ben win, but he knew that if he had done so, he would have been too tempted to use it as an excuse to walk out again. He wasn't being forced back in because of his pride- he chose this.
"But I'm not leaving right away," he explained quickly before Ben could erupt into making plans. "It'll probably take two or three months to sell the house, and I only have six months left in residency...I want to finish it." As far as Caleb was concerned, there was no room for argument on this point. It wasn't that he wanted to finish because he wanted a back up plan...he had to finish it because he just had to. For all the years it had taken and all the grief it had caused, he couldn't leave it unfinished.
Ben only nodded, as though he had been expecting to hear that. "Do you want me to come with you?" he offered. "Help pack and shit?" Caleb nodded. He had to admit that he was surprised at how right this felt. He knew it wouldn't be a smooth transition and that he would have several moments of doubt, but he was starting to feel...alive again. Ben was right. He had tried doing something else, and it hadn't worked. Caleb had his pride, but he wasn't above admitting when something just wasn't working.
"Of course," Caleb replied, unable to wipe the grin from his face. It wasn't like he would be able to tell him 'no' even if he wanted to- Ben wasn't asking to come. He was telling him that he was. The questioning tone was just for appearances.
Ben rose from his chair with a cheeky wink, gathering the two guns and putting them back in the bag. Caleb shook his head. Sometimes they read each other as well as even he and Jackson could. It was almost as though words themselves were a formality, a habit to help those around them follow the conversation.
When Ben turned around again, Caleb's smile faltered slightly. He knew that by the expectant look in Ben's eye that their previous conversation wasn't finished- he wasn't off the hook. He debated playing dumb and making the other man ask again, but it didn't seem fair.
"It's stupid," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the table. "My reasons, I mean. I know they're stupid, but I can't really stop thinking them." Ben said nothing, sitting on the edge of the bed. Caleb didn't even turn to look at him, staring at the table top. He hesitated, before repeating to himself Ben's promise that he wouldn't judge him for whatever he was about to say. Someone like Ben wouldn't make that kind of promise lightly, and Caleb knew that he would hold to his word.
"It's simple, really," he continued, and knew that he was just wasting time to prolong the embarrassing confession. "As are most stupid things. They're too simple, and that's what makes them so flawed, but so...strong. It's hard to talk yourself out of it." He furrowed his eyebrows, focusing intently on a chip in the wood table that had suddenly become fascinating. He knew that Ben would stay quiet. He didn't have to worry about a 'well?' or 'and what is it?'...he could probably avoid talking about it for hours if he really wanted to.
"I just don't want to be him," he finally explained, his voice soft with humiliation. He knew he should be smarter than that. He removed the sunglasses, pressing his palms together and burying his face into the space they created. "That's it," he continued as his fingers slowly slid down his face, revealing his eyes. "That's why I hate how much I enjoy hurting people...I think he enjoyed it, too."
He closed his eyes when he heard Ben sigh. He knew Ben had promised, but there was still an irrational fear that he was about to be told just how ridiculous his concern was.
"We're all our dads in some way," Ben finally said. "Whether we like it or not. The only way to get out of it is to be the complete opposite-"
"-and then they're influencing your behavior just as much," Caleb finished knowingly, remember what he had said to Lisa back in Minnesota.
"Exactly. You just have to accept that there is some of him in you and move on. You and Jackson both have to get over it." Caleb dropped his hands on the table, his hands still clasped together. He was sure that there was no one else who could have said those words to him without provoking some kind of fight. Ben and he were close enough that the other man could get away with quite a bit. It did sting somewhat, and he didn't really have much of a reply. Ben wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know...but maybe things he hadn't finished putting together yet.
"Otherwise, you'll be 'My dad beat the shit out of my mom until my brother murdered him and then she disappeared so I'm going to hate the world and pretend to be someone I'm not' forever.' And if you do that, I can be 'My dad was murdered by the mafia based on a bad tip and my uncle drove my mom into self-deportation-'"
"I get it," Caleb interrupted, a slight edge to his words. "You've had it harder, and you got over it, so why can't I, right?" Surprisingly, Ben just laughed softly.
"Well, I wasn't trying to get into a pissing contest about whose life is shittier, but in so many words, I guess..." He paused. "No, I'm not saying that what you went through is some simple thing you can get over, and I'm definitely not saying that my life sucked more. That would be stupid. I'm saying that it's possible to get over it if you accept that it happened."
"You think I'm pretending it didn't happen?" Caleb asked, confused. He wasn't irritated with Ben- he was frustrated with himself. Why did it bother him so much? On the surface, he knew how ridiculous he was being. He knew that he wasn't James, but that didn't change anything.
"No, I think you're both pretending that it didn't get to you," Ben explained. "When you told me about it, you've always had a very...'whatever' tone about the whole thing. Very matter-of-fact." Caleb heard him move, and lifted his head as Ben sat down in his chair again. "If you act like it didn't bother you, then you won't be able to accept that it did have an effect. There's nothing wrong with admitting that you're hurt." He leaned forward slightly, his voice quieting. "Did you ever cry about it?"
Caleb's posture straightened. Had he? He didn't even remember...he remembered sitting in the police station in fear and pure disbelief, numbly sitting in the courtroom listening to Jackson give his testimony, having to avert his eyes as his mother was taken to prison...he didn't remember crying. And it wasn't as though Caleb thought of himself as too manly to cry. He had done so many more times than Jackson over the years. But... "No," he finally admitted. "I don't think I did." He opened his mouth to justify it, but remained silent instead. There was no point.
Ben nodded, his facial expression unchanging. "I did," he replied. "Not at the time, though. I wouldn't let myself. I couldn't take the time to be upset about any of it because I was afraid that if I did, I couldn't keep going." He raised his eyebrows, as though he were asking Caleb if that sounded familiar. And it did. A few moments passed in silence until Caleb looked at his friend again. He hadn't sounded finished before, and sure enough, it looked like there was something else on his mind.
Caleb dropped his face onto his arms with a groan. He knew what Ben wasn't bringing up- Cheryl. "Why is it so hard to believe that I'm not that hurt by what she did?" he asked, squeezing his eyes shut again. He knew how unbelievable it sounded, but he just wasn't. She hadn't hurt him.
The touch of Ben's fingers on his made Caleb's head jolt up. He yanked his hands away, pulling them close to his chest. "Yeah, I have no idea where I got that idea," Ben replied, still staring at his hands. Caleb quickly hid his right hand behind his left, covering the ring.
"It's not like that," he insisted, a blush rising to his cheeks. Come to think of it, he didn't even really remember why he was wearing it. He twisted the ring off his pinkie finger and tossed it on the table, watching it bounce before Ben caught it. "It's nothing. Just like her, just like my marriage. Nothing." He brought his palm up to his temple, pushing roughly against his returning headache.
"It's a gorgeous ring," Ben murmured as he held it up, and Caleb clenched his teeth. He knew what the other man was up to, and he refused to play that game. "Did you go through the store, imagining each one on her finger and her face when you offered it, or did you know right away which one was 'the one'?"
I knew right away. Caleb shook his head, pressing his palm even harder into his skin. "Stop," he whispered harshly. The only breaking point he was about to be pushed to was the door- this wound was too fresh to pick at.
"Then don't fucking lie to me," Ben replied evenly, tossing the ring aside. "Or yourself."
"Look..." Caleb began, his voice cold. Ben had made a serious misstep, and he had to let him know this wasn't any kind of joke. "...you want to talk to me about my dad or my brother or any of that? Fine- we can talk about them. But leave her out of it or we're done here. I've said all I wanted to say about her, alright?"
Ben nodded, looking apologetic. "You're right," he admitted. "Too soon, yeah?"
Caleb released his head, waving his hand dismissively as he turned away. Don't apologize- just fix it. "I get what you're trying to say," he explained. "But right now, I need to be jaded about her, so don't try to convince me I'm not." He could tell that Ben wanted to reply, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.
"You know what you need?" Ben began again, and Caleb snorted in amusement as he shook his head. He could tell just by Ben's tone that he was about to go off on a random tangent. Sometimes, that man couldn't stay focused to save his life.
"When we go to Minnesota, we should go to a strip club...you have those there, right?" Caleb nodded, laughing harder than he intended to. It was random, and completely asinine, but God, the small moment of levity it gave him felt fantastic. "We can go to one and watch the pasty Scandinavians take off their parkas. Hot."
Caleb continued to laugh. "I'm sure they're lovely ladies," he assured Ben, "But what's the point?" He flashed a wicked grin at his friend. "They'll never top you." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know...no matter how deep you try to be, you will always be the man who did a drunken striptease on our coffee table."
He saw Ben's eyes light up in amusement, but the man somehow kept his face perfectly deadpan as he nodded, leaning forward again. "And you will always be the man who shoved money in my briefs," he replied, his tone laced with teasing. Caleb nodded in remembrance, leaning back in his chair. He grinned again- he could almost feel the bass of that insipid Nelly song, the cheers of his roommates ringing in his ears, the hilarious exaggerated lust all over Ben's face...
"But you'll have to take what you can get now," Ben continued, commanding Caleb's attention again. "I don't hand those out to just anyone anymore...I'm a serious adult now. I watch the news and everything. I need to be in a relationship or I'll feel so used."
"Yeah, you're all grown up," Caleb replied casually, restraining his laughter. If Ben could do it, so could he. "So if we were in a relationship, I'd get an exclusive dance?"
Ben nodded. "And if you put a ring on it, you might get a few more lap dances."
Another grin broke out across Caleb's face. "God, I will never forget the look on Jackson's face," he recalled, traces of laughter in his voice. One of Ben's goals back then was to get some reaction out of his brother- especially laughter- and once Jackson had caught on, he pulled a poker face like Caleb had never seen before. But the sight of Ben grinding on Caleb while "Don't Cha" blasted had earned Ben a slightly dropped jaw and stunned eyes before Jackson had managed to regroup. And Caleb had always been more than happy to play along- he liked seeing his brother happy, too. "It's a deal. But I get dances whenever I want."
Caleb knew that more often than not, his relationship with Ben was unorthodox at best, but living in that apartment with the other four had felt like existing in a different world and playing with a completely different set of rules. They really had no boundaries. It had never really occurred to him to care or question it- it was what it was, and it was comfortable.
Ben clasped his hands with mock enthusiasm. "It's the happiest day of my life," he replied, and then scowled, dropping his palms onto the table. "Hey- what do you mean, I 'try' to be deep? I am deep when I want to be."
Caleb tilted his head back, biting his lip to keep from laughing again. "You just caught that?" he asked, shaking his head.
"I'm a goddamn poet," Ben insisted, which just egged Caleb further on. "Oh, you need me to prove it? Alright," he continued dramatically, without waiting for a response. "Check this shit out: Think of your inner turmoil as a raging wildfire. Attempts to douse the flames with water- denial- are in vain, as the destruction is too determined."
Caleb propped his elbow on the table, resting his cheek in the palm of his hand. He was a little disappointed by the fact that they were headed back into this conversation, but it felt more comfortable now. It was odd, but he felt more confident that he could work through his issues than he had even ten minutes before.
"So instead, fuel the flames. Accept your rage, your pain, integrate them, and cause a flash fire. Burn the motherfucker to the ground. It will hurt like a bitch, but that's when the best plants grow." Ben grinned triumphantly, crossing his arms.
Caleb shook his head slowly. "'Burn the motherfucker to the ground'," he repeated. "Dylan Thomas himself couldn't have put it better." Ben scoffed. "But I don't think firefighters would agree with that advice."
"Oh shut up," Ben replied, unphased. "It's solid." The two men broke, laughing loudly until they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
After Caleb had accepted the room service and tipped Anna, Ben took the tray from his hand and settled on the floor near the bed, waiting for Caleb to follow him.
"Tell me the truth," Caleb finally began again, salting the hashbrowns, "What really brought all this on?" Ben hesitated before taking a bite of eggs, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. "Weren't you the one who got pissed at Lisa for dragging Jackson's secrets from him? And all poetry aside, we're not exactly known for having deep talks."
"Oh," the other man replied, catching on. "This is totally different. First of all- I know you. I know how hard I can push and when to leave you alone. Two- I didn't come in here with some plan about how I want you to see things. I'm actually listening to you and reacting instead of trying to make you fit my thoughts." Caleb took a bite of his hashbrowns, deciding not to bring up the fact that he really hadn't said much- Ben was doing most of the talking, as usual. But that didn't mean that he was wrong about what he was saying. "But mostly..." Ben shrugged, staring at his fork. "You helped me. And if I can repay the favor, awesome."
"Don't be so dramatic," Caleb replied good-naturedly. "You did most of the work yourself...I didn't even say much, if I recall."
"Do you ever?" Ben retorted, chuckling as he took another bite. "No, but remember when you said that by letting myself being bitter about things, I was giving into everyone who's fucked with me?"
Caleb narrowed his eyes, trying to remember a decade back. "Vaguely," he replied. "What's your point?"
"My point is that it always stuck with me," Ben replied. "My thing is trying to find a balance between letting things roll off my back without pretending it never happened, and that's pretty much down to you. So I figure if I talk enough, maybe I'll say something that will help you."
Caleb nodded, taking a bite of bacon. "It has, I think," he replied. "Maybe you're right...I think you are, anyway. About my parents, I mean. I have rationalized it, I know, and it already occurred to me that I'm not as past it all as I thought I was." He frowned. "The problem is that I know I know better than to let it get to me like this."
"You know, it's no crime to have weaknesses," Ben pointed out. "Yeah, you know that you're not like your dad. Obviously, I didn't know the guy, but he sounds like he was an asshole who fought his own insecurity by hurting weaker people. And that's never been you. Just because you know it in your head doesn't mean that you aren't afraid of it."
Caleb shook his head. "Convenient amnesia," he replied dryly, "because that sounds exactly like what happened last night."
Ben sighed heavily, dropping his fork on the plate. "Alright, this is one time I'm going to tell you to shut the fuck up," he snapped. "You had a moment. It was horrible, but you know what? We've all been there." He paused, and Caleb also set his fork on the plate, feeling himself start closing off again. 'Everyone does it' had never seemed like an acceptable excuse to him.
"I hit Jamie once," Ben admitted matter-of-factly, pulling Caleb right out of his brewing frustration. Despite his best efforts to remain neutral, he knew that the shock was obvious on his face. "Right before I was sent to Robert's team. I lost it, and it wasn't a one-off. I have no idea how badly I would have hurt her if Jackson didn't step in...and by 'step in', I mean break my nose."
"Why?" Caleb asked, completely caught off guard. He had never heard anything about this- Jackson had mentioned once that Ben and Jamie split, but never gave him details. The guilt came creeping back into Caleb's brain- he should have called Ben when he found out. He should have been there for him.
Ben shook his head again. "I'll tell you sometime," he replied. "Not now though- it's not the point. The point is that she definitely didn't deserve it. I was angry at her and at myself, and I took it out on her. But I'm not your dad, am I?"
Caleb shifted uncomfortably. He was stunned by this revelation, but really, it didn't change how he saw Ben. Without knowing the details, it was impossible for him to imagine his friend doing something like that. And that was likely exactly what Ben had meant- a moment of inexcusable behavior didn't define a person. Mistakes were one thing, but it was really patterns that showed character. That, and how the person responds to their mistake.
"Even Jackson has had moments like that, I'm sure," Ben continued. "Honestly, I never understood what he was thinking when he went after Lisa...I mean, I don't know all the details, but there was really no reason for him to be at her house in the first place. I can only imagine he wasn't thinking clearly..."
Caleb nodded. "I never really got a straight answer from him about that," he conceded, "but I got the same impression. And he did a number on her- I saw the bruises." He was about to add that Lisa did more damage, but he was interrupted by the door opening and the woman in question walking in.
"Speak of the devil's sister," Ben greeted as he turned his head to look at her, his tone light again. "Maybe you can help us, Lisa Lee."
Caleb immediately averted his eyes from the woman standing in the doorway. She had assured him that she was alright, but he still didn't know how to look at her without feeling completely ashamed of himself.
"What am I helping with?" she replied, sounding somewhat blindsided- not that Caleb blamed her. And he would have told Ben to drop it, but now he was curious as well.
"Well, two things," Ben replied, and Caleb looked up to see Lisa shut the door softly and approach them, sitting on the edge of the bed. When she made eye contact with him, he suddenly found the carpet fascinating. "First- do you know why Jackson came after you after your flight, and second- what did he do to you?"
"Seriously?" Lisa asked incredulously. Caleb kicked Ben's ankle- the man really needed to work on his finesse.
"Yes, seriously. It's important," Ben insisted, smacking Caleb's leg. Caleb looked up at Lisa again, but she was staring at the wall as she shifted to lay on her stomach.
"Well..." Lisa began, trying to figure out how to explain it without sounding like a victim. They were weird questions, but not really that complicated. And it wasn't as though she harbored resentment toward Jackson for what he had done anymore. She understood it now. "...he was angry at me for ruining the plan, and he wanted revenge." She folded her hands in front of her, resting her chin on her knuckles. "He didn't do much, though- threw me down some stairs and dragged me by my hair, but then my dad shot him, so..." She trailed off, looking down at Ben. "Why is that important?"
"We're talking about irrationally hurting weaker people," Ben explained simply. Lisa furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but upon seeing the fluster in Caleb's cheeks, she understood. Ben was talking him down. That was probably why he was being so blunt about it- dancing around the subject would probably make Caleb feel even worse.
As frustrated and hurt as she was by what Caleb had done, both to her and to Jackson, Lisa couldn't find it in herself to drag out his obvious guilt. She had never been a vindictive person. And even as she looked at him, her heart told her that behind his rage was a bitter pain, and that was more important than anything else.
"Jackson broke Cheryl's face," she pointed out. "I know she's not exactly defenseless, but she was tied up at the time." She had no idea what the two men had been talking about, but based on some of the discussions she had had with Jackson, she didn't find it far-fetched that it had something to do with their parents. And if it had to do with them, especially their father, his abuse was probably key.
Ben's face lit up at this news, but he managed to bring it in quickly, looking back at Caleb. "See? Jackson and I have done it...and we're the same people we've always been. And so are you." Lisa frowned when Caleb merely shrugged, still not looking at her. She wanted to tell him that he shouldn't beat himself up about it- in more appropriate words- but she felt as though it wasn't her place to advise Caleb on anything. In fact, she got the distinct impression that he didn't want her there.
"Should I leave you guys alone?" she asked, moving to get to her feet. "I could go...somewhere else." She wasn't sure exactly where she would go, but she had seen Caleb's face change as soon as she came into the room. He and Ben had obviously been talking somewhat openly, and she was fairly sure that he wouldn't continue to do so when she was there.
Ben turned back to look at Caleb, who shook his head. "How is he?" he asked, changing the subject. Lisa frowned again. She wasn't sure how much she was supposed to tell him, and how much she should leave to Jackson. On the other hand, Jackson had made it clear that he wasn't really going to tackle the situation for quite a while, and it didn't seem fair to leave Caleb completely hanging.
"Alright, I guess," she replied, deciding to stick to the minimal amount of information she could get away with. To be fair, Jackson had been much better when she was leaving. "We're taking a break."
"A break?" Caleb repeated, obviously unsure what that meant. She could tell he was trying to read her, and hoped she wasn't giving too much away.
Lisa nodded. "He needs to focus on the job," she explained. "And he said he can't do that when I'm around...and then he wants time to himself to figure things out." She shrugged, her tone light. "It's fine. I understand it, and..." She trailed off, eyeing the toast on Caleb's plate. "Can I have that?"
Although she didn't feel like it was her place to share how Jackson was taking things- however much he wanted Caleb and Ben to know was his business- she also didn't really want to talk to either of them about their relationship. At least, not where Jackson's feelings were concerned. With how difficult it was to get him to open up, she knew it wasn't right to go ahead and pass on everything he said. It was both a violation of his trust and a shortcut to him closing back up again.
Caleb nodded in the affirmative, smiling. It was weak, but it was the first one Lisa had seen since before they killed Cheryl- she couldn't help but feel her spirits rise a bit. "Looks like someone's changed her mind," he remarked as she shimmied closer to the edge of the bed and reached for the toast.
"What do you mean?" she asked, looking up in confusion as she spread strawberry rhubarb jelly on the toast.
"I don't want bread- I want real food," Caleb paraphrased, his mocking voice higher than usual. Lisa relaxed, laughing as she gesturing at his hashbrowns.
"Well, are you going to share those?" she asked, taking a bite of the toast. Caleb swiftly maneuvered his fork, holding it up like a dagger as he shook his head. This provoked another giggle from Lisa, who turned to look at Ben. The other man was eating his eggs, apparently not paying much attention to the conversation. "Jackson's waiting for you to get back, by the way. He said you guys have to work out some stuff...you should probably call him." She was a little surprised that he had picked up Nikita and the trainees so quickly, but it wasn't really her business.
Ben shrugged. "Yeah, when I'm good and ready," he replied, stealing a strip of Caleb's bacon. "Oh hey, aren't you going to tell her the good news?" he asked Caleb. Lisa switched her attention back to the other man, almost missing the dirty glance he had cast at his friend.
"Ben and I are getting married," he finally said, giving Ben a smug smile. Ben burst out into loud laughter...apparently that wasn't the news he had been referring to. Lisa only shrugged. She was getting used to the banter, and decided that it would be fun to play along.
"Get in line," she said to Ben, folding the remaining piece of toast in half before turning back to a grinning Caleb. "Or is this your way of telling me you want a divorce?"
Caleb shrugged, taking a bite of his hashbrowns. "I think 'sleeping with my brother' is a fairly legit grounds, don't you?"
"Probably as valid as 'engaged to another man'," Lisa countered. "I'm guessing our divorce papers will be worth framing," she continued, sending all three into more laughter.
Ben reached for another strip of bacon, but Caleb slapped his hand away, taking it himself. Lisa watched in amusement as the two men stared each other down, seeming to have some kind of silent conversation. "Alright," Caleb finally conceded. "Don't say anything to Jackson- I want to tell him myself- but after my residency is over, I'm rejoining the agency...if he'll take me."
Lisa's hand froze mid-way to her mouth, and she set down the toast. "Seriously?" she asked, but she wasn't as surprised as she probably should have been. She had already wondered if this would happen after hearing Caleb speaking before. She still wasn't sure exactly what to say, though. "...Congrats?"
"Thanks?" Caleb replied, imitating her hesitation. She saw him furrow his eyebrows, and knew that he was trying to figure out how to explain his choice.
"I get it," she assured him, and in a way, she did. He just didn't seem as unhappy to be there as he should have been if he really did hate what they did so much. Of course, she hadn't seen him when they were off killing Robert, but he definitely seemed...at home when she had seen him help plan Cheryl's death and the Keefe job. She couldn't attest to his behavior before the red eye and before he and Jackson were in each other's lives, but she could see how comfortable he seemed at times, especially with Ben.
"What do you think he'll say?" Caleb asked, interrupting her thoughts. Lisa set down her toast again, caught off guard. He was asking her how she thought Jackson would react? He must have had some idea, but he wanted her input? She was so wrapped in her surprise and odd sense of giddiness that she almost forgot to answer the question.
"He'll probably be mad at first," she replied, thinking about it. "No, 'skeptical' is a better word." And she wouldn't blame him. "I think you should finish talking about what you were telling him before, though...before you tell him you're coming back, I mean. He's pretty worried about you, I think." Sharing an analysis of Jackson's thoughts wasn't a violation of his trust, was it?
Caleb frowned. "He's worried about me?" he asked incredulously. Lisa nodded, but her reply was interrupted by Ben scoffing.
"Just make up already," he interjected, "You worry about him, he worries about you, you're both scared that the other one blames you for everything, but you both blame yourselves...I mean, you should have heard him when I told him to go check on you after Lisa called me."
Lisa nodded, surprising herself by supporting Ben's outburst. He put it more bluntly than she would have, but she had to admit that she agreed. "He's right," she offered. "I mean...he's angry at you obviously, but I think he's more upset about what you did than what you said." Shit. She let herself get caught up in the moment and shared more than she had intended, but Caleb only nodded.
"Oh, what a tangled web we weave..." he murmured to himself, so quiet that Lisa barely heard it. He sighed loudly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'll talk to him...when the time is right. Not now."
Lisa folded her hands again, resting her chin as she stared at the carpet between the two men. They had continued talking, but she wasn't really listening anymore. She was glad that Caleb was willing to make that dreaded first step to resolve the years of hurt and misunderstandings between the brothers. She just hoped that Jackson would be able to listen. She had tried more than once to nudge him in that direction, but he had never taken the bait.
It was obvious to her that Jackson was afraid to make the first step, afraid of putting himself out on the line and admitting what he thought were his most humiliating secrets- his weaknesses. And he had also seemed legitimately convinced that his brother saw him as inferior. Maybe he would be more willing to talk it through if it the idea from Caleb himself.
Alright, chapter 36 will definitely be the attack on Keefe. Hope you guys liked Caleb's breakthrough and Lisa finally starting to find her place in the group.