let me help

Who: Caleb and Leija
When: night
Where: the orphanage

It was cold, but Leija wanted that. That's what coats were for, anyway. She was bundled up in many layers that were oddly arranged to make room for her wings but leave everything else covered. It was late, but she didn't care. And the orphanage was ... what it was. Dark, silent, tomb-like, creepy. But that wasn't all it was, and she wanted to be there. She didn't feel well, and of all the places to go that were silent and far away and completely alone, she'd picked this one. She was sitting in the auditorium, on the ruined stage area, sitting cross-legged with a single fat candle in front of her. She didn't have it for the light, as her wings were out, it was just something to stare at. And occasionally run her fingers through.

She was taking stock again, and still not liking it in the least. It was likely she'd fucked up with Dylan. She couldn't really see it otherwise. Rose was gone. Nate was gone. Peyton was busy having her own life. Thom rightfully didn't want to have anything to do with her. Porter ... she'd begged out of movies with Porter and his girlfriend, claiming sick when she really just didn't think she could face anyone. And anyway it wasn't like getting close to him was a great idea. That didn't seem to be working out for her anywhere. Caleb ...

She cut off that thought, the one she kept coming back around to. She was alone, that was that. There was only her dad, and she was just ... feeling like she couldn't do it anymore. Anything. "There's just no mercy in your eyes. There ain't no time to set things right. And I'm afraid I've lost the fight. I'm just a painful reminder ... another day you leave behind," she sang quietly along with the music in her head, listening to it echo off the walls.

Caleb was out for a walk. He had a lot on his mind lately, and last night he'd been stuck inside being all non-human and shit, so that was a no go. But tonight he could, and so he did, spending time walking around outside for a while...but eventually he wanted to get back inside. Even if 'inside' didn't actually mean 'home'. He'd headed for the orphanage, mostly because he actually liked the place, and he'd done a lot of thinking there before. He was sort of planning on just wandering through, looking around, maybe hitting up some areas of the building he hadn't seen before.

That plan got shot to shit, however, when he heard singing. And, after he froze, and listened for a good few minutes, he filtered out the echo, and just heard the voice...which he recognized. It was hard for him not to, he'd spent such a long time living and breathing the girl. It wasn't as if the memory just evaporated. So, he had a decision to make. He could either bail now, or he could go talk to her. It was the fact that he'd been thinking about her lately, about how he hadn't caught up with her that had him moving towards the Auditorium without actually making the decision to do so. He moved quietly, almost like he still wanted to give himself the out if he needed it, where he could bail if she didn't notice him. So--quiet. He stuck to the shadows, and headed up the hall, seeing the unmistakeable light effects of fire. He could see where her shadow had been on the wall before, where Dorian had done him the favor of removing it. It was almost more obvious a place now, considering it was cleaner than the rest of the expanse of wall.

He stopped when he got to the doorframe, and he leaned his shoulder against it silently, eyes on her where she sat, wings out, candle in front of her. He was mostly still in the shadows, and he recognized in himself again that this was likely creepy behavior. But...whatever, that was just what he did. He didn't figure trying to correct it now was going to work out for him.

Unaware that she had an audience -- even if he hadn't been in the shadows, being a source of light sort of fucked your dark-vision, another thing she didn't care about -- Leija moved into singing the second verse. She petered out halfway through and fell silent again. She didn't really want to listen to herself, the lyrics just resonated with her and had been locked in her brain for days. She felt like she should probably cry, and here would be a good place to do it, but nothing was really coming. She was more empty, quietly hollowed out. For the moment, anyway. She was aware of how cliche' that was, how Angsty Teenager, but that didn't seem to matter much either. So she just sat, and ran her fingers through the candle flame again, lost in all kinds of not-great thoughts.

When she stopped, he was a little disappointed. And he took away that whole 'bail without saying anything' choice he'd been toying with when he spoke, voice not overly loud, but the room had wicked acoustics, so he was fairly sure she'd hear him anyways. "Hey. I was listening to that." he complained, in a sort of gentle way. He didn't quite know what else to say, or what approach to take, so he just...went with that.

He just so happened to startle the shit out of her, and Leija's body jerked, wings spreading and flapping once out of instinct. She managed not to scream, however, which was probably good considering what else might be out and about in the dark. "Oh fuck," she breathed, hands over her heart. She wasn't being attacked, it didn't even sound close, and didn't she know that voice? "... Caleb?" she said, sounding half-disbelieving. She was hearing shit now? Awesome.

He winced a little, squinting one eye shut due to that, and a little due to the whole bright of the flame-wings and all. "Guilty." he answered her. Yep. He was Caleb. he supposed he should tell her if she wanted him to piss off, he would. "If you wanted to be alone...I can go." he said, so he had that covered too. There. He'd taken away his own chance to bail without talking to her, but that didn't mean he didn't want to give her the out too. He still wasn't even positive he wanted to talk to her. That never tended to go that stunningly well, after all. But still.

She felt a mixed rush of emotions all of the sudden. Longing and nerves and avoidance and sickening sadness and weird relief all mixed together. She'd seen him in school, sure. They had a class together, for fuck's sake, but it wasn't the same. He was here, they were alone, in what she more or less thought of as their place. This world was far more real than school. Even though she still couldn't see him. She didn't know how to respond to his offer for a second, wanting him to stay and go away at the same time. She was getting a lot of that dichotomy lately. "No, you don't ... stay if you want to stay. Are ... you okay?" she asked a bit hesitantly, aware of how odd it sounded. But she'd wanted to know for a long time.

Why was that question always something that took a hell of a lot for him to answer? It was never a simple 'yes' or 'no' for him. Ever. Really, he ought to work on making his life simpler so at least one day, in his life, he could manage that. But it wasn't going to be today. So in the end he shrugged the shoulder he wasn't leaning on, eyes remaining on her, not wavering. "Are you?" he countered, thinking if he had to guess, the answer would be 'no'. After all, it hadn't been that happy a song she'd been singing.

"You didn't answer," she said instead of answering herself. Because a big fat neon 'no' was the answer, and she wasn't sure if the reasons why were something she could possibly even begin to talk about. Not that he would accept that, but still. Or maybe he would now, who the fuck knew anymore? She knew that she didn't. " ... and if you did so non-verbally, I totally can't see you from here. Just so you know." Not that he was probably keen on coming any closer. She didn't even know if she wanted him to.

He didn't get any closer for a few long moments, debating. But, then, figured he was in this now. Talking to her, so he might as well at least go over where the girl could see him. "I shrugged." he said, pushing off the doorframe and he started crossing the space towards her, involuntarily glancing back over to where her shadow had been, and thinking about when he'd gotten them crosses from the ceiling. And she'd been pissed. Which, weirdly, made him smile a faint bit. When he got to the stage, he leaned against it, eyes on her as he looked over. "So what's your answer?" he prompted.

She watched him slowly start to come out of the shadows, just a suggestion of lighter-gray face at first and then coalescing into Caleb. It sort of made her want him to go back into the shadows again. Even though she was like a huge firey beacon, she felt more exposed with him up close. "It's 'no'. Not okay," she said simply, too tired to really dance around it. She'd been lying far too much lately. A shrug was better than that, she guessed, so that was ... good. That he wasn't awful. Anyone else, and she would think that just his being there was an indication of badness, but it was Caleb. "But no, I don't want to talk about it, which is your next question," she added, voice quieter now that he was right there.

That got a light little half smile out of him too, and he gave a quiet little laugh, that was mostly an exhale. "That's my next question." he agreed. He kept his eyes on her for a moment, then continued. "And I'm asking anyways. What's wrong?" He'd never been very good at just letting things drop. Caleb was someone who while he had instincts to bail? Didn't actually let go of things very easily. If ever. It made him difficult to deal with, he knew, but he couldn't exactly help that. And besides. She knew that by now. Just like she knew he'd ask in the first place.

His laugh, though tiny, got a twitch of a smile out of her. The sound almost hurt, though, so it was there and gone. "And my line is 'I told you I don't want to talk about it', and then you say 'don't care, you're going to anyway', and so on and so forth," she murmured, letting her eyes drop to the candle flame for a second before they were drawn back up to him. "Pretty much everything's wrong, Caleb. It's too much to get into, and I'm ... making a supreme effort, so. Can we not this time?" After all, the entire problem was her unloading too much onto him, wasn't it? To do that now wouldn't work at all. Not to mention him being a big piece of things.

Caleb considered that. He thought it over, was thinking about the fact that he had his own shit right now. And of course, the fact that he had a question that she was the only person in the world who could give him an answer. If he was going there, and he didn't know if he was or not. If he could. But for the moment? He wanted to know what was up with her. "Give me something?" he asked finally, shifting slight, more facing her, so he could comfortably rest his gaze on her, and keep it there, in the usual heavy sort of manner he did with her. And which apparently hadn't actually gone away, even if they hadn't been around each other properly for a long time. But then again he did the same thing with other people, so maybe it was a him thing not a her thing. Either way, he was doing it again. That heavy, heavy focus.

She was more or less used to the scrutiny, and while under normal circumstances it might make her kind of edgy, it didn't just then. Maybe that was because she was so close to the line. The shock of seeing him at all was sort of wearing off back into that numbed state. He wanted something. She tried to hunt for something light. Or lighter anyway. "Well ... apparently the kid I want to help heal has an enormous crush on me, and now I'm not sure if he'll ever want to talk to me again," she said, though that was devastating in it's own right. Her total failure there. Her eyes ticked up again to look straight back at him. "That's one thing. Now you, tell me what your shrug means exactly."

"Hey...that's just starting on what's up with you." he protested. "That's all I get? Just...a flat description, I don't even get to ask for details?" he asked. Yeah, see you lost the right to ask for details a while back, asshole. Because you two are barely aquaintances anymore at this point. he told himself. That just didn't stop him from wanting to dig like he had always done with her. He never claimed to be fair. In fact, he'd own up to being spectacularly unfair. "The shrug means I don't know." he answered her, however.

"That's all you want, trust me," Leija said, still really not wanting to go down that road with him. Because a huge part of that sick feeling in her stomach when Dylan kissed her was because of Caleb. A huge part of why she felt like a friendship and intimacy that she literally needed was missing? Was Caleb. Hell, why she'd even come to the goddamn orphanage in the first place was because of him. But he'd wanted her backed off, away from him, and he hadn't meant to find her here, she felt sure. It wasn't like she was invited back in to talk about these things. Even if she could, she probably wouldn't. It wouldn't help. Nothing she did ever helped. "Why don't you know?"

"Leija, have I ever actually been okay?" he answered her question with a question. His tone wasn't pointed, however. He asked, because it was one she knew the answer to. Of all people, she knew. Even if they hadn't spoken, it wasn't like that meant she didn't know him anymore. It wasn't as if he'd done that much radical changing in their time apart. He was still him, and he didn't do a whole lot of growth or whatever. "And don't tell me what I want. You know the answer to that, too. You know I want to know."

"There's normal-people okay, and there's the you-okay," she pointed out, her own tone still quiet and even. "Which I guess consists of you not being ... " in the hospital psych ward? Speaking with that horrible cold robot voice? Something. "... mid-crisis. I know better about the other kind." She paused before she answered the other thing, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip briefly. "I know you want to know, but I think you would regret asking, if I told you. So witness me cutting that off at the pass."

He drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. It bugged. He was aware very well that it shouldn't bug, but it did. he supposed it had something to do with the fact that he sort of still reacted to her like he had a right to pry into everything. So he gave himself a minute before he answered her, not saying anything on the assessment of the sliding scale of 'okay'. It wasn't like she was wrong. She wasn't. "Why would the kid not want to talk to you again?" he asked, sort of trying to pick one thing that maybe he could get an answer to. Maybe that would work instead of asking for the whole story at once.

Leija smiled faintly, though there wasn't a whole lot positive in it. He was relentless. It wasn't like she was trying to be coy. It wasn't a test, she didn't want him to pry. Because if he picked at the scab the right way, it might open up and flood the room. And then she'd be in even a worse spot than before, this accidental encounter would probably be over and he'd be even further away. A part part of her mind murmured that she should hang on to this, it might be the last time. "Because he kissed me, and I ... really can't handle that. My reaction was not the best," she said, giving him that at least. It was still factual.

When she said that, Caleb thought it over. She'd said she was trying to...what exactly? 'Heal' the kid? He actually had a comment to that, but didn't say it. He didn't know if it would be taken weirdly, or if it was just a strange sentiment altogether. So he kept it to himself, for the moment. "Define 'not the best'." he said, keeping his eyes on her. Really, they only wavered slightly, to look at her wings. He always had, and always would adore them. There was just something about them that he couldn't not find beautiful in some fashion.

"Kind of like falling all over myself to apologize and say it wasn't him, it was me, and practically running out of the house?" she said. She was reminded of being in the psych ward with him, being overcome with everything, and losing her lunch. That marked a turning point, in a way. When everything started going to hell. When fucking up had become pretty much a daily activity for her. She was looking back at his face in the quasi-dark. He had a good jaw, he really did.

He winced faintly. "...that'll do it. That's definitely a bad kind of reaction to get from a girl." he admitted. which she knew, he didn't have to tell her that, but yeah, from a purely guy-perspective, that had to be fairly devastating. "...I'd give you advice, but I've got nothin on that score." he admitted. He didn't know how to make anything like that better. He didn't imagine there was much of a 'better' to be had. So he could see why she was not-okay about that. Especially considering she had stock in the guy, if she wanted to 'heal' him. He was quiet for a moment. "You just not into him?" he asked, wondering if he actually wanted to know that.

She didn't say anything about it being a bad reaction. She knew that. Which was why she was pretty convinced that she wouldn't be hearing from Dylan again. Leija didn't even know to hope she was wrong. She didn't know what she wanted, really, out of any part of the universe. Her gaze dropped again at his question. "He's very sweet. He's very hurt. His mom was eaten and his dad and brother more or less left him here by himself. I can't ... see him that way. I want to help him, not get involved with him. Or I wanted to, anyway, it's just ... " she trailed off and shrugged. It's just what I do. I fuck things up. Maybe Valkyries are the angels of death and fucking shit up. It's like a calling. But that was probably saying too much. She was starting to do it again.

Caleb took that in, thinking that was, in fact, a bad situation for anyone to be in. Then he decided to share the thought that had crossed his mind before. "...you realize there's kind of a connection with someone actively trying to look after you and attraction...right?" he asked. His tone was very light on that score, because he was pretty sure she wouldn't put that together on her own. Like she might not have considered the angle, even if he was aware of it. After all, when did his obsession with her kick in hardcore? When she was at the hospital every day, trying to look after him, regardless of the fact that he was in the ICU and there were trained medical professionals everywhere trying to do just that.

She was quiet for a minute. Her own mind tracked off with that suggestion in a different direction. Towards him and all the times he'd pushed her past her comfort zone with her best interest in mind. How worried he'd looked when she came back from being missing. All the frantic phone calls whenever something in town went insane. Even after badness, him coming to this very building when she needed a shoulder after her aunt had died. They'd both tried to look after each other, he'd just been far better at it. A lump hardened in her throat and she took a second to loosen it. He was right there, in arm's reach even, but he felt worlds away. "Yeah I know," she said very quietly, eventually, still not looking at him. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry and I miss you so much. Please go away now.

He could hear a difference in her tone--that was hard to miss, plus there was the pause before she said anything. Then there was the massively quiet of it all. He kept his eyes on her, and didn't say anything for a minute himself, debating what to do. Debating what to say, if there was anything to say. Really, Caleb was utterly oblivious to the other end of that, totally blind to that flipside. He never saw himself as someone like that, as a caregiver of any description. He knew she'd wanted him to be, in his own mind, he'd just failed and failed with flying colors. "What else is going on?" he asked, after the silence had stretched into minutes. There was still the question in his mind, but he still hesitated to ask, too. After all, if she was already being emotional, that one would probably hit like a suckerpunch, now wouldn't it?

"Why are you asking?" she asked, eyes still down on the small flame. There wasn't anything biting in her tone, it was just a question. She still had that cottony cold feeling. "Is it because you really care? Or is it habit? Or is it that you don't want to talk about you?" Those were three options, at least, and she highly doubted it was the first one. She wasn't a person who warranted caring about for very long, and they seemed to have run through their course. Past it, probably. She had that wonder again, the one about what he would do with the news that she was dead. Would he cry? Would he grieve her? Would some tiny small part of him be relieved that he'd never have to deal with her again? She was having more of those kinds of thoughts lately, it probably wasn't a good thing.

Caleb looked at her for a long, long moment, something in him shutting down again. See this? Was why he didn't fucking talk to her. Why he'd not been around, and hadn't checked on her in a while, even if he'd thought about her and wanted to. Because of this. Fucking. Bullshit. He really didn't feel the need to have to justify himself for giving enough of a shit that he hadn't bailed before he said something to her. He didn't feel like he needed to spell out for her that he cared, so she could latch the fuck onto that, because to him it sounded like she was fishing. And when he'd been there, and what had he done so far? Tried to ask her what the fuck was the matter. And now he was getting hit with this shit for it. His jaw set, and it was clear in his eyes, his posture, everything, that he was worlds of Not Happy with that. "Jesus fucking christ, Leija." he swore softly under his breath. "You know--" he started, and then stopped. "No. Fuck it." he cut himself off. "Nevermind." And he pushed up off of the stage and started to head for the door.

Relieved. Probably relieved. Color flared in her cheeks and she felt a stab of shame. She hadn't said it to provoke him. Not completely, anyway. She really honestly didn't know. "What am I supposed to think?" she asked his back, knowing her voice would carry, looking up. She didn't sound angry, she just sounded tired. "You told me I put too much on you, I only think of myself. And then you tell me to go away and leave you be, you can't handle me. And then I don't hear from you for forever and we both happen to be here, now, and you want me to spill my guts to you? Just like old times? And I should just know you give a shit, when you don't act like you give a shit? That's fair, Caleb. Really fair." I'm going to kill myself, you know. It's inevitable, it's in my blood. So I hope you got a good look. She started to shake a little. "I'm sorry, please don't go," she added as her voice finally cracked. She was honest to god scaring herself now. It was needy and it was everything he hated, but she really didn't want him to leave at that second.

"You're supposed to think that I've done a fucking shit ton for you." Caleb snapped, turning abruptly around even if he was back into the shadows, where he remained. "You're supposed to remember all those fucking times I've told you that I fucking care about you. That if you ever really needed me, and called me up, I'd be there, and I've proved that to you. Even when things were worse, when things fucking sucked, your aunt died, and you needed me, and I was there. I was there. God, Leija..." he said, frustrated to the point where he felt overheated. Like adrenaline had shot through his system, and it probably had. "And yes, you put too much on me. But it was more than that, wasn't it? It was because no matter what, I couldn't please you. No matter what happened, you weren't fucking happy. Nothing was ever enough, you always wanted more, and now you're doing exactly that. I come, I talk to you, it's going alright--hell, I was even considering asking you something that I need to know that you're the only person in the world that can actually fill in that blank for me--and you have to hit me up with your whiney fucking bullshit. Because me asking in the first place isn't acting like I care. Showing you concern for whatever you're going through isn't me caring. Really. Clearly, that's just not enough for you." he continued. "'Oh, waa, why are you asking, is it because you care?'" he mocked. "For fucks sake, why else would I ask? Why the fuck else, would I come in here, and ask you, even if I knew that it might be fucked up to hear. What the fuck is the matter with you? What the fuck is your mal-fucking-function? I thought I was fucked up, but you? Take the fucking cake."

He was silent for a moment, just staring at her. He honestly couldn't believe this. Why had he bothered? Why had he tried at all? It was like the same shit, different day. Which actually... "You know what, Leija?" he asked, voice quieter, but probably a lot more disturbing sounding that way. "We were together for like a week." he said. "And it's been almost two months since we broke up. And you're still behaving like..." he shook his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. "Fuck this. What do you want from me?" he asked. "I want to know. Right. Now. What exactly do you want from me. Lay it the fuck out, and don't hold back. Tell me." And he knew it was a bad question to ask. That if she gave him an honest answer, it was probably going to disturb the shit out of him. Because with her level of...god he didn't even know what...but he wanted it laid out there. Maybe she needed to hear it out loud. Just so she'd get it herself. Just so that maybe she could see the level of fucked up here.

Everything he yelled at her felt like a physical assault. Really, like she'd been punched in the gut. Because in her mind his words didn't match his actions. Maybe he used to care. He probably really used to care. But in Leija's world, you didn't push someone you cared about away completely and didn't have anything more to do with them. She was in deep enough that she couldn't see that old stuff as relevant anymore. Now she was drowning, now she needed a life preserver, and he'd just happened by on the deck and was yelling at her to stop her bullshit. And the fucked up thing was? Her malfunction? Was that now she felt like she deserved it. Her shaking had gotten worse, and she pulled her wings in close to her body. "I want you," she yelled back in an unsteady sort of way. Her control had most definitely slipped. "I want you with me, I want you to feel like I do, I want you to love me, I want you to forgive me, I want you to see me like you used to, I want you to talk to me again, I want you to fuck me, want me again, I want you! Because you got inside me, Caleb, nobody's ever understood me, nobody's ever seen my fucked up like you, nobody's ever gotten close and gotten in deep and shown me things about myself that I was struggling to understand. It wasn't that I wasn't ever fucking happy with you, I was. It was that you drew things out that I had to learn to deal with, and I needed that. And now all that's been ripped away and it's my fault and it's killing me!"

She stopped for a ragged breath and swallowed, losing a bit of steam. "And now you sound like you detest me, that's why I think you don't really care. It doesn't make sense. You're a fucking bulldog, you adopt people and protect them, it's not personal affection, that's just what you do. When you push me away and say you can't handle me when I'm trying everything I know how to do to fix things, that kind of takes away from everything that came before, doesn't it? And now you're here, not knowing I was here, and I just ... I can't believe that you really care, I can't, because I will never get everything I just said I want, and even looking at you hurts. Because I did it, me, and now you sound like you fucking hate me and I can't blame you." Tears finally started to roll down her cheeks in red streaks, and she pinched the fat candle out and pulled her wings in, putting them both in the dark. Her voice quieted even more. "I'm alone. You were the only person to ever make me really feel like I wasn't, showed me what that meant, and now you're gone. In every way that really matters. I am not dealing well."

God. Hearing it all like that...it really was just as bad as he expected, maybe worse. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like having her do that had filtered through at all to her own ears. Like she didn't say it and hear how fucked up it sounded. How crazy. "You know why I sound like this right now?" Caleb asked, after the silence and darkness descended. He walked closer towards where he'd last seen her, but stopped before the end of the stage. "Because I came in here, and I was hoping maybe we could have a good conversation. That maybe, we could talk for a while, get back on a more even keel, and maybe go from there. But you can't just...do that. You always have to make it the end of the world, and again, all the fuck about you. You couldn't just sit here, and talk to me. And maybe think for your fucking self a little bit, and figure hey. We were taking time apart, he's talking now, and I wasn't even--I was trying to be there, at least in some aspect, to maybe offer...fuck." he broke off for a moment. He let the silence stretch out, before continuing. His tone was still weirdly level. Not emotionless, just quiet.

"Let me ask you something." he said into that dark quiet. The blackness that was heavier, since it had been lit up a second ago and his eyes hadn't adjusted yet. "You say that you can't believe it because of all that...but do you still care about Thom? When was the last time you talked to him?" he asked, tone very light. "Because I remember, Leija. I remember you telling me over and over that you loved him. I know you cared about him. I know you did. But...when have you seen him last? Talked to him?" And maybe she had, he didn't know, but he doubted it. She sure as hell hadn't before, and he kinda doubted she tried mending that bridge. Or even checked on it. If nothing else, he would have heard rumors flying around school about that. But she seemed to be expecting him to behave in a manner that still meant he was...well. Like her boyfriend. When they'd broken up, and even when her own past behavior was probably less accommodating than his had been. Since he'd most definitely tried. He was quiet again, before he added to things.

"You can't believe I care about you, because it isn't on your terms. That's what you just told me. But you say you were happy, and...that's not true. What I said? That nothing's ever been good enough? You just proved it for me, right there. Because you can't believe I care, if I'm not giving you everything you want." he said. "That's what care is to you, from what you just said. It's you, getting everything you want, regardless of what's happening with me, or whatever. Because that's it for you, isn't it? Just...you want what you're not getting, so you have to pull this. And you want me to drop down and tell you I love you, and anything short isn't good enough, so you aren't going to accept it." He shook his head, smelling the smoke from the candle. "I'm gone in every way that matters, and you won't allow me to be there in a way that I can actually deal with. Because you pull this shit every time. I wouldn't be nearly as gone, Leija, if you..." he didn't finish the sentence. 'Weren't so fucking crazy' was a good end to it. If she wasn't an insane, angelic leech that just wanted more and more of him, and couldn't be happy with anything that wasn't the whole deal. It made him realize that whatever he'd hoped for here, he wasn't ever going to get it either. The friendship they'd shared at one point, how good it had been for him, everything. He wasn't ever going to get there. Because it wasn't ever going to be good enough for her.

"No, I can't believe it because it gives me false hope, not because it isn't on my terms," she corrected, her own voice quiet and even again. The dark was helpful. It built the cold up again. It was over, it was really all over. He'd asked, she'd answered, and they weren't ever going to get any farther than that. "It makes me think that some day you might call or something and say you miss me and can we talk again. I can't let myself do that anymore. You said you needed time, a break, and maybe that was true, but you wouldn't have needed that if I wasn't me. You just said it. I was happier when I was connected to you. Even when we were just friends. You just told me to tell you what I wanted from you and not to hold back and to lay it all the fuck out, and that's what I did, and then you turn around and say that I'm making it all the fuck about me. That's ... not fair. Nobody said it was rational, that's just the whole big un-held-back thing. Which is why I said I'd never get it, because I know better."

"I didn't ask you to come here tonight, I didn't ask you to show up. I didn't bring it to you. I'm having a really fucking bad time, Caleb, a really bad time, and I just wanted to be alone for a while. I wasn't prepared for you to turn up and start asking questions, and I told you I didn't want to talk about it, and this is why. You didn't just show up to have a conversation, you didn't let it go when I asked you to. You insist on knowing what's wrong, you say you wanted to be there, and then when I start to tell you, I'm a selfish crazy bitch? Yeah you've been there for me in the past and that meant worlds, but you haven't talked to me in weeks, which also means worlds to me, just in the opposite way, so how do I know what you're thinking now?"

"I. Miss. You. Not the attention, not the physical, not what you fulfilled for me, you. I miss talking about the zombie apocalypse and wandering around at night and passing you notes in class. I know I'm fucked up, I've been telling you that since the beginning. But I felt like that was more okay, then, because you accepted me. Not that it was great, but that it wasn't so crippling. But I guess it says something when I'm having these kinds of conversations with the person who got closest to me, huh?" She went quiet for a moment. "I've tried to talk to Thom a few times. He doesn't want to talk to me. There's a difference." Eventually you just do enough damage that nobody can see the good anymore, her internal monologue was murmuring. At least you can be glad that it didn't last long enough with Nate for this to happen. You can spare people now. He's ready to bail, let him go. It'll be easier for him in the end if he hates you. She swallowed. It wouldn't be a problem for too much longer, she thought, and she wouldn't get her fucked up on anyone else.

Silence descended for a few long minutes. Caleb listened, though he had a growing sense of dread. A growing sense of intense unease, of a feeling that could only be described as 'creepy'. Disturbed. And part of the anger he was holding onto faded. But it was replaced with a cold feeling. A 'someone just walked over my grave' feeling. "...Leija..." he started, voice quiet. Surprisingly gentle. "...I think you need help." And he didn't say it in a snide, 'you need therapy' kind of manner. He meant it. Fully, completely, honestly meant it. Because with all she'd just said, the contradictions, the full tilt crazy that she didn't even appear to see...that to him said that she'd cracked. Honestly cracked. That something was truly wrong with her. And it was deep, deep down mental open wounds sort of wrong. "...is there anyone you can call? Where's your dad?" he asked. Then he paused. "...let me call Lisa." Because he was willing to bet that he could swing something. He didn't know what? But he'd do it. Lisa liked him anyways, and if he had to call in a fucking huge favor from Mathias? He'd do that too. But he'd damn well try. Even if he didn't for a second think she'd go for it, or...well. Anything. But suddenly everything looked so much different. So very, very different. And they were falling under horrible headings like 'scary', 'obsession', 'mental illness', and other things. Which really threw everything else into a much different slant. Fuck.

Leija frowned vaguely in the dark. Who was Lisa? ... oh. It clicked and she frowned some more. Though oddly, it didn't surprise her that his mind would go there. There was something wrong with her; there had been for a very long time. It had just been under the surface, festering quietly. Mostly quietly, anyway. "No," she said, her tone a combination of flat and tired. "Don't, it won't ... they won't understand. And you know I can't be ... locked up or anything. It just wouldn't work. My dad's at home, probably in bed. I don't want to call anyone. Just ... go home, Caleb," she added, softer. He'd been ready to walk, so it wouldn't be a big deal for him to do it now, right? And it was over, it was over for them completely, and for her, and that was just how things were. "I'll be fine." Which was the only thing she'd said so far in the big mess that felt like a lie.

"Bullshit." Caleb said, getting closer, trying to gauge the distance by her voice. Which was a lot harder to do with the acoustics in the place. "And I can make it work. I'll call in every favor I have, and I can, I can...it could get done." he promised. Which he had absolutely no idea was true? But he was willing to try. More than willing to try, he wanted to. It was just a matter of...well. Convincing her to let him. "Please?" he asked, knowing he was getting close, and he reached out in the dark, hand brushing up against her shoulder.

She flinched at the unexpected touch, and her hand came up to knock his away by instinct. The tone in his voice was ... weird, and kind of fucking with her. She scooted back a little bit. "No, it won't work," she contradicted. "What am I gonna tell them? That I'm all fucked up because my mother couldn't handle wet-nursing people into the afterlife and took a nose-dive off a bridge? That I get to do that too, every day, all around the world, and it's goddamn depressing? That everyone either can't stand to know me very deeply because I fuck them up, or leaves and is fucking lucky they did?" There was feeling in her voice, but it was more directed at herself than him. She was something to be loathed, she kept getting proof of it.

He took his hand back, but heard her move, and he had a much better gauge of where she was now. He did crouch down to find the candle again, and took his lighter out to spark it back to life. "How about you've got abandonment issues and undealt with grief over your mother's suicide." he suggested, voice light. Gentle. "That's a start." He paused, looking down for a moment, then back over at her. "Leija, even if I didn't get into my own issues when I was there, because I couldn't...it helped me." he told her, honest. Purely honest there. "As much as I hated being there? I needed to be." Because he'd been completely fucking unstable, and had been on a really sharp downward spiral. That had at the very least knocked him off of the spiral. And if Leija was spiraling--which he thought she was--then maybe she needed knocking off of it too. And he couldn't do it himself, part of it was just the stay there. It took you out of your own head, at least for a limited amount of time. He just wanted her to get help before she wound up needing an ICU stay before that. Where he could try and get it rigged so she could leave when she had to for her calling, and not set alarms going. He stayed where he was, crouched down, one forearm resting against his knee, the other knee down to the stage. "I can do this. I can make this work." he promised.

She shook her head mutely, on the very edge of the candle's light. The dark felt more oppressive now, not as comforting as it had before. But she didn't want to be visible at the same time, she wanted that distance. Even with as staticy as her head was, she could see he was trying to ... do something. Help her for some reason. She just couldn't really see why, beyond not wanting to deal with a guilty conscience later. Not that it would've been his fault, but he might think so. She knew him enough to know that. But that motive didn't quite ring right, either. "I know what you're doing," she said, but a lot of the conviction had left her. It was almost more of a question than a statement. "They can maybe stop it for a while, I can get tucked away and medicated or something, but ... you won't be there when I come out, will you? I'll be alone again, it'll just be my dad, and I can't ... just for one person, it's ... suffocating. But it's too late, damage is done, game over, it won't really help anything, and just ..." She took an unsteady breath, a couple of dark tears slipping out. She wiped at it, smearing the blood on her face. "I want to die, Caleb. I really do. I'm just ..." she trailed off, not having words for everything she was. It was the first time she'd said it out loud, and it didn't shake her as much as she would've thought.

Caleb wasn't sold on the idea she did know what he was doing, but didn't correct her either. He just stayed where he was, watching her where she stayed on the edge of the shadows there, basically ready to try and grab her if he had to. He just hoped he didn't have to. Yep, his entire outlook had pulled a pretty abrupt 180 on him again. But then, it did that. When Caleb did a turnaround it wasn't a small one. "No one said anything about tucking you away, or medicating you." he said first, because he hadn't. "I don't know...I don't know how it works with you. When I was in there, they had me on shit, but...I don't know. It never seemed to do anything. I was really--" he hesitated, then sighed, figuring if he was doing this, he was doing it, and therefore he couldn't skimp out on the details just because he didn't like them. "I was shit scared they were going to change me or something, and the other version was going to be better, but it'd be a lie. That didn't really happen, though. It was just being there that helped. You helped." Because she'd been a big part of his recovery as well. "It's just the kind of whole deal. But you wouldn't be just shoved away in a room somewhere and forgotten about." Which was what she was making it sound like.

Hearing her say that she wanted to die out loud was something that struck him. It gave him an indescribeable pang, because he knew what that was like. Intimately. Pushing himself to his feet, he took the step or two closer, and looked down at her, not sure if she was going to try and move back again. "Things look bad right now." he said. "Doesn't mean that they'll always look like that." he said, voice soft. He crouched down next to her, putting himself on her level. "You were there. When I was in the ICU, you were there. You know just how much I wanted to check out." he said. Because that, he thought, was terms she could understand. She'd been there, she'd seen what condition he'd put himself in. "And...how shit was then...it's different now. But a lot of the perspective change was just going through that. Being made to look at things. All of that. I hated every fucking second but I'm better off for it." He glanced away, then back at her. "Fuck, I'm still here for it." He might have gone into how he did think she helped. But he'd told her that so many times before that he didn't think she'd ever listened to a word of it. He doubted she would change that habit now.

She could only look straight at him for a moment before her eyes dropped, but she didn't back away. She did know how much he'd wanted to check out. Only after the fact, but still. And she remembered being stunned by it, confused and almost angry at him that he couldn't see the people that loved him. She kind of remembered saying as much. Leija wiped at her eyes again and sniffed. You helped. That was what he said. She could back then, because he'd really obviously needed it. He'd come undone and she'd picked up the slack. Only she'd dropped and lost it again sometime after that. From everything he'd said in the past month or so, she'd failed at being there and being a help, and never quite got her footing back. It sucked, it was a position that truly sucked, because she'd wanted to do it right, be good for him, she just was a chronic fuck up at it. Maybe she was only good for terminal people, or those that were almost there.

"Are you glad you're still here?" she asked in a murmur, glancing up and then away again. She couldn't hold his eyes for long tonight, apparently. It was an honest question, because he'd been there, at his own edge, and been pulled back from it. She really wanted to know if it had been the best thing for him, if he was any happier than he'd been before.

Once upon a time he would have made her look at him. Reached out, turned her face towards his, but not tonight. He didn't know what that might do, so, he wasn't risking it. "Yes." he answered her. He didn't hesitate over his answer, either, and honestly it was because he didn't have to. He had hard times, yes. He was still even traumatized by his little trip to demon-land with Math. He had a fuck-ton of issues that he probably still hadn't dealt with and wasn't going to any time soon, and he was still what he viewed as a fuckup. There was whole worlds of not good that he could dredge up for evidence if he wanted to, but really, he just...didn't feel that pull anymore. And he knew he'd still do it, still get himself killed if shit really went sideways, if things went past a point where there was a way out. But that was worst case scenario. That was a time and place where it was necessary. He wasn't exacty cured, he knew. He still had some suicidal tendencies, but...they just didn't rule him like they had before. He could just flat out answer her that he was glad he was still around.

For some reason she couldn't even begin to understand at that moment, that made her really start to cry. He just sounded so sure, and even though that was a wonderful good thing, she was absolutely envious of it. She wanted that, what she saw as probably peaceful. Her hold on herself was so tenuous, it was awful. She didn't feel like she had anything to be around for anymore, she'd gone and exploded all of it. Except for not completely breaking her father's heart, but what kind of thing was that to live for? Really live for. She covered her mouth with one hand, squeezing her eyes closed and dropping her forehead to one of her knees. "I am too," she managed to get out in between back-shakes. She meant that, too. Even if he was a billion miles away from her, she was very glad he hadn't succeeded in destroying himself. Leija held her breath and tried to get it together; she knew he hated it when she cried like that, it was just so damn hard not to.

At this point, he was expecting it, and so he dealt with it better. In his book, displays of emotion like this were at least more positive than weird dead zone type things, so he didn't flail. He got closer, and reached out to lightly touch her shoulder, drawing her hair back over it. He didn't want to do too much, because she'd batted his hand away last time, but he wanted to try something. See if it worked, or...what. He didn't say anything for the time being, not wanting to push again, he would, but after this.

She didn't shy away from the touch this time, though it kind of made it hard not to fling herself against him to be held like she wanted to. But there had to be lines, didn't there? She deserved boundaries, fences, walls, all those. Besides, she was leeching again. She was getting her fuckedupness all over the place, and he was totally right, she never stopped doing that. She scrubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie and took another couple of shaking breaths. She wanted to apologize, but nothing would quite get past her throat at the moment. So she just tried breathing. One thing at a time.

Since she hadn't pushed him away or anything, he went to sit next to her. He didn't pull her over or anything, like he would have back in the day and all, but he did do kind of the other thing he tended towards, which was he rubbed her back a little. It was a light touch, but meant to be comforting. He hoped it was, anyhow. He wasn't sure what else he could do, but he'd figure it out. He still let the silence go on, not pushing her to say anything until she was ready to. It wasn't like he had some pressing engagement to head to. And even if he did...you didn't leave a girl who just told you she wanted to die alone.

It took her another couple of minutes to wrestle back control, even if she didn't really want to. The overwhelming urge was there just to sob and hyperventilate and wear herself completely out. Then go to sleep, and potentially not wake up. It was probably what she would've done if he hadn't shown up. Or if he'd gotten out when he wanted to. Part of her knew he was right, she did need help. It was just finding the energy and the desire to actually get it. Dying would just be so much easier. There would be peace then. She didn't even want an afterlife, despite the evidence otherwise, she just wanted quiet blankness. "I want to go home," she murmured eventually, not knowing what else in the world to possibly say.

Caleb drew in a breath and let it out slowly, still lightly rubbing her back. "Let me help you with this." he said. "I'll walk you home tonight, but...let me make arrangements." He might anyways, just in case she did allow for it. He didn't quite know what else to do. What else was even an option, or not. He just knew something had to give. And he knew with what was up with her, he wasn't near fucking qualified to help her through it on his own. Plus, he'd been telling her the truth about the place. He'd needed it, it had helped.

She took a breath and almost said no again. Almost. But there was a memory that was getting through even the dull horrible haze in her brain. The awful feeling, sitting there in the ICU with him, that he'd been that close to being gone. And how she would've felt if he'd actually done it. What would it do to him if she didn't agree? If she took all the pills she could find in the bathroom tonight? Now that he knew? As abandoned as she felt, as sure as she was that he was completely sick of her ... she wasn't sure she could do that. It was confusing, and that wasn't good. She had to be sure. "... okay," she said at last, very quietly. "But they can't keep me." If it didn't work, after all, and she still wanted to die after they'd tried? There would be time.

He paused a moment, just kind of watching her carefully. "Keep you what...indefinitely? I was thinking more like my stay. Just...a while. And I can try and pull things with Lisa...so if you get a call, she can cover. Then you can go back when you're done with the call." Yeah, he'd been puzzling it out. Trying to find a way that would work. "You can get in and out through the courtyard." Which they'd spent enough time in, really. So she knew it.

Leija looked doubtful. Even in the courtyard, she'd be a big flaming-winged beacon of look-at-me-ness. But she didn't really feel like arguing the semantics of it with him. He would think of something to tell the Lisa girl or he wouldn't. And people were already dealing with ghosts, why not flaming wings, too? That was how little she actually gave a shit at the moment. "If you can work it out," she said, sounding tired. Since her wings were in, she moved around the bit that it took to put her hoodie on properly, covering her cold back, and started to get to her feet.

He got up with her. "I'll do that." Which meant talking to his brother. Owing the guy. Though, whatever, he probably already did. He'd try, at any rate. He'd said he was going to walk her home, and she'd put her hoodie on, so he was assuming she was good with that. Walking over to the candle, he glanced back over. "Hop down off the stage." he said, wanting her to do that before he snuffed it. He guessed he could use it for light along the way, but it wasn't that far a trek back out. Fairly straight forward and all.

She did so obediently, more crouching and kind of stepping off than hopping. But she was down on level ground again, in any case, and she pulled her hood up over her hair. She was starting to really feel the cold again, and her joints were stiff and achey for being in it for so long. It was going to take a while for her to warm up. But she didn't want to rush, honestly. As with every time, this might be the last time that she and Caleb spoke civilly, and she kind of wanted to hang on to it. Even if it had come about in such a godawful manner. Which really spoke to her patheticness. She waited for him to get down himself, then started to walk, pretty much having nothing to say.

He snuffed the candle and got down, walking with her. His mind was on how he was going to get this to work, and if he could get anyone else besides Lisa in on it. He might try, really, just because. But really, she was a head nurse in there, she was there all the fucking time, and if she could be convinced of special circumstances...it wasn't going to be an easy sell but he thought it might be doable. Especially if Math agreed to sweeten the deal for Lisa. He wasn't above blatantly manipulating someone he actually liked if it got the best result here. Not his usual style, no, but...sometimes shit just didn't go nicely. "How long has this been going on?" he asked, after they were down the first flight of steps, and back in the pale moonlight for a few moments before they headed back down into darkness.

She thought about the question as they walked. As much as she could think about anything, at least. Sleep was dominating her mind, the desire for blissful unconsciousness. "Depends on what you're talking about," she said after a few moments, dully. "A lot ... after Nate left. There just ... wasn't anybody left. A while." It of course had it's roots far far back further than that, but that had been the point that she felt like she was really truly alone, without any real possibility of being understood by anybody. Which had really started when her and Caleb's problems had escalated, but she wasn't going to say that. She knew the blame rested squarely on her shoulders there, and she didn't want him to think she was saying otherwise.

"What about Peyton?" he asked. Since he knew they'd been friends. Rose had skipped town, and he hadn't actually known Nate left, or what happened with the guy, but he wasn't about to ask for the full story at the moment either. He didn't think Peyton was the kind of girl who'd ditch on a friend, but...who knew. It wasn't like he'd talked to her in a long while either, not that they'd ever been bestest buds or anything. He opened the door for her as they exited the orphanage, and started down the steps.

Leija looked pained for a second and shrugged one shoulder. "Peyton's ... she's really sweet. She just doesn't ... get it, I don't think," she said a bit hesitantly. She didn't understand the world that they lived in. As far as Leija could tell, anyway. Some people just never touched the depths of sadness that others were capable of. Which was probably good for them, but it didn't make her feel great with sharing a lot. Like she was bringing their life down or something. She hoped Caleb would understand what she meant. Some people you just didn't click with in that way.

He did get what she meant, it was part of why he hadn't kept up with the girl himself. There was that huge separation between them, that gaping chasm that was a worldview that didn't even really start to overlap. "She didn't when I used to talk to her." he admitted. "But she's still a connection, a friend." he told her, because that was important too. Even if people didn't so much get the whole thing, she was someone who cared about Leija as well. "But just...yeah, I know what you mean. Just don't write her off or anything."

She nodded. She hadn't written her off, she'd more just ... figured she was busy with her life and her boyfriend and let it go at that. Which was maybe writing her off, she didn't know. She wiped at her nose with her sleeve again as they headed across the grass to the sidewalk. It was even colder outside, snow still on the ground. Leija lapsed into silence again, not really sure where to go from there. She felt tired and hollowed out again, drained. Funny how she kept dropping to lower and lower levels of drained. She would've though she'd bottomed out by now, but apparently not. She was still walking.

When they started walking along the sidewalks, and under lights, he stopped her for a second. "Hold up." he said, then bent to get a little bit of snow in his hand. He let it melt, then reached out and wiped at her cheeks, which still had some dried blood flecked on them. That was the thing about blood. It kind of didn't wipe away so clean. "There." he said, satisfied she didn't look like she'd had someone try to gouge her eyes out or something.

She made a soft sound that was akin to a chuckle, and reached up to touch one of her cheeks briefly. It was a gesture, even if it was just on the off chance that they'd run into somebody between there and her house. She wasn't sure how to take it. It made her want to hug him, but she didn't. He was walking her home, she couldn't make it weird. "Thanks," she murmured instead, and started walking again, fingers still on one cheek, her other arm wrapped around herself.

"Welcome." he said, also not sure what to really say other than that. So, he let them lapse into silence, not sure if he should try pushing for more information, or just leave it be for tonight. He was kind of opting for leaving it be, because she was already on edge. And that, along with pushing didn't mix well. Plus, she'd just asked to go home, or said she wanted to go there, so he was taking her there. He could do that without trying to dig into issues, and he didn't feel qualified to do that at the moment anyways. Thus...he was an escort. He was making sure she got home, safe and sound, and then he...probably had a long night and day ahead of him. That was going to be interesting.

Leija wasn't inspired to talk again until they actually got to her house. She circled them around to the back, avoiding the front porch light that had been left on, and stopped at the far edge of the driveway. Any other night and she would've been wanting him to come in, straining against asking him. But she just wanted tonight to be over. All she wanted was somewhere soft to burrow down into, close her eyes, and stop existing for a while. " ... thanks," she said again, looking at him briefly. It was sincere even if it was exhausted and unhappy. She didn't know of anything else to say; expressing anything close to how she felt was decidedly impossible right then. Not that she was ever good at it in the first place.

Caleb hesitated for a moment, then drew her closer to give her a light hug, not knowing if it was alright or not. But, he wanted to get that in there, regardless. "Get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon." he promised. And, at least this time, he planned on keeping that. He stepped back, looking at her. "And you know I'm not actually going to leave til you're upstairs, in your room, with the light off." he added.

She didn't quite hug him back, more uncrossed one arm to lightly put her hand on his side. But it was an acknowledgment and she didn't push him away. Funny how she used to be the huggy one, always forcing affection on him. The thought made her throat ache a bit more, but she dealt with it. "Okay," she said, not positively sold that she would hear from him soon. Probably, to keep her alive, but ... fuck. It didn't bear thinking about yet. She nodded at the second bit and hesitated. "From here or inside?" she asked.

Caleb glanced up at her window, then back down to her. "Here. I don't want to get you into trouble." And he might, he didn't know. Hell, he didn't know that her dad even knew about him or what happened with him or anything. He had no concept of what she might have told the man. So, he figured it was best to avoid the situation entirely. "Just...I'll be right here, wave down to me, alright?"

Leija was honestly a bit relieved by that. With the way she felt, having him up in her room or even in the house ... she didn't know. But it was better not to find out. She nodded, bit into her bottom lip, then turned to head into the house. "Goodnight, Caleb," she said, tucking her fingers into her pockets to fish her key out. She unlocked the door as quietly as possible and slipped in, closing it behind her.