Mindfuckery

Who: Caleb and Leija
When: late into even later
Where: mostly the orphanage

It was late. Edging in toward midnight. But Leija couldn't sleep. She'd tried, a couple of times, but her mind was too busy going in ten or twelve directions at once. She briefly pondered calling Thom, but decided that he'd probably had enough of her today. Anyway, she wanted to be out and moving around, and he might object to middle-of-the-night wandering. But she didn't want to be alone either, oddly. She chewed on her bottom lip and looked at her phone for a while before she dialed Caleb's number. He probably needed checking on anyway, and she hadn't heard from him in ... a day? Two? Something like that. Leija got up to pace while the phone rang, trying not to crawl out of her skin like a crazy person.

Caleb frowned a little as he heard a ring tone. It actually took him a second to realize he was getting a phone call on his cell, and he dug around on his floor to grab it, setting his sketch book aside. Finally finding it, he glanced at the number. ...Leija? Did she have the wrong number or something? He hesitated a second more before he answered. "Hello?"

She'd been wondering if he was going to answer at all. Maybe she was interrupting something. He did have a girlfriend, after all, even if she sucked. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe he just didn't want to talk to her for whatever reason. Oh yeah! Maybe he thought she was psychotic, claiming to be what she was. But then he picked up. "Hi," she said, and hesitated her own second. "Um ... how are you?" Wow ... if they gave out awards for lameitude ...

How was he? Confused, for one. "Um...okay?" he suggested. "You?" He was feeling pretty lame himself. "You up and about and everything by now?" he added. Being he didn't know how much better she would have gotten in the last day or so. What with the last time he saw her being in the hospital. He glanced down to the sketch book he had been drawing in, and grabbed his pencil from behind his ear to start again.

This felt weird. She couldn't see his eyes, and with how unaccustomed she was to people knowing so much about her, that made her uncomfortable. She picked something up on her dresser and tapped it a couple of times before setting it back down again. Leija wasn't sure why she was so agitated, just that she was. "Yeah, I'm mobile again. Temperature's normal and everything, just still ... healing ... what are you doing? Are you busy?"

Caleb quirked a half smirk. "If you didn't notice, it's pretty late. What would I be doing?" he asked. The rough sketch he started putting into the margin was a back shot, a lot of heavy shadows, but he was detailing in a scar down the back, hospital nightgown slid down and open to reveal it. Talking to her brought up the mental imagery sharply, so yeah. Witness him marking it down. "Don't answer that." he said after a second of thinking there were probably a lot of answers that could be given there. "Why, you want to go be criminals again?" Gee, don't sound too eager or anything, dumbass.

If he did, Leija didn't notice. She'd tucked the phone between her shoulder and her head to open up her window and lean halfway out of it. "I dunno," she said. "I just need to be out of the house, like ... an hour ago. I know supposedly all the cats are dead, but ..." What? She wanted company? Specifically his? 'Tardo. "I wanted to check up on you. Make sure you're all in one piece. So two birds with one stone, I guess. ... If you want to. Go out. Somewhere. I don't care, I need to be outside." And now she sounded crazy and desperate. Nice.

He sort of had a moment where he again wondered if she had the right number. Irrational, probably, but there. Because the fuck? He'd sort of thought that she didn't want much to do with him, so he'd decided to kind of quietly drift off into the background and not bother her anymore. Bail, like he had a penchant for. He paused after a darker line that swayed over her shoulder, drawing the fall of her hair. "Out sounds good." he found himself saying instead of all that other stuff going through his head. "Out sounds very good. And hey, theoretically you won't be attacked, but if anything tried, I'd make an attempt to y'know...kill it." Okay just stop talking. Like, for the rest of your life. That would work well for you.

She chuckled a little, though it wasn't in any sort of derisive way. She believed that he would. "Always good to know. I'll attempt not to look ... really attackable." Which, according to some people's theories, was next to impossible. And she really didn't need to be thinking about Thom's mother at the moment. "Where can we go?" She went ahead and started to climb out of the window, the shingles rough on the bottoms of her bare feet. God, she loved being on the roof. Even if it was just the porch roof.

"Well as long as you don't wear a long, white silk nightgown and carry only a candle I think you'll be fine." Which now he had that mental imagery in his head, and on the other side of the page, he drew the wispy outlines of a suggestion of her like that. "I don't know. I figure we should go back to our roots and do something vaguely illegal." he said, almost scribbling over the outlines he'd drawn, then he just tossed the book down to the bottom of his bed along with his pencil. He leaned over the side of his bed to search for his shoes, his mind going over places in town. "...been to the orphanage?"

Leija blinked, rising up into a standing position and walking carefully to the edge of the roof. She lifted her free arm and took in the faint breeze. She had the urge to get airborne, but she was on the phone and making plans, so ... her restlessness would be satisfied soon, hopefully. "No?" she said. " ... how vaguely illegal are we talking? Involving kids with no parents?"

"Involving abandoned buildings that we'll probably have to break into, and it'll be tresspassing for the both of us if we're caught." Caleb said, smirking to himself as he of course made it sound like he was suggesting they jack a bank. "I know it doesn't trump vandalism of the calibre we did last time, but it's as good as I can do on short notice. Oh and it's falling apart, so it could be dangerous." he added in a teasing sort of tone.

Oh good. Abandoned orphanage. That sounded pretty appealing, actually. She looked down at her bare feet and smiled a bit. "I guess that means I should put on shoes then, huh?" she said, sounding vaguely amused. "What with the looming, ominous threat of tetanus and all." Tresspassing was a cinch. Leija started to climb back toward her window. "How're we workin' it? I go there, you come here, we meet there, what?"

"You don't know where I live." Caleb pointed out. "Unless you've started stalking me and I didn't notice. And yeah, you'll need shoes. Unless you expect me to carry you around on my back the whole time, or dig nails out of your foot instead of slivers. Then there's all that tetnus stuff, so I say let's avoid it. I'm sure you're just dying to have me take my knife to your foot again, but let's be vaguely sensible." There was that idea of not talking anymore. A vow of silence. Maybe it would stop me from sounding like an idiot.

"Aw, but there's nobody else willing to carve me up," she pouted at him, slipping back into her room to dig around for some good shoes for the occasion. "And hell yeah I'm stalking you. I'm actually right outside your window right now? Lighting candles on my portable Caleb-shrine, you know." Ah ha! Boots. She plopped down to tug them on. "But if you told me the street, I could probably find it. Unless you feel like walking over here and stealing me out of my window like a true bad influence."

Caleb finished tying his shoes, then opened his window to hop down out of it. "I see no shrine." he said. "Which by the way, is creepy. There should be no shrine. And what do you port it in, anyways? Are there effigys to burn? Are you really a voodoo priestess in training, because I have to warn you, I was fucked up by one already, so someone beat you to it." he said, starting to head in the direction of her house. "I like being a bad influence. I'll go there. I mean, I guess I could let you know where I lived, if you really wanted to know and all. Then if you did want to start stalking me you could. Or y'know. You could stop by now and then." Okay he needed to stop inviting her places. He apparently had a penchant for that, and hadn't he decided he was gonna leave her alone now?

"Well it's only fair," she reasoned, making a bit of noise with the phone as she pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. It was a warm night -- and probably still smelled like gross dead cat outside -- and she wanted it out of her way for the time being. "You know where I live. We have to give equal opportunity to stalk one another. ... you were fucked up by a voodoo priestess?" she asked, picking that out a little belatedly.

"Yeah, but so far I've only been stalking you over the phone with my cunning plans of like, inviting you to things." Caleb said. "I haven't worked myself up to showing up at your house to gaze at your window or anything. But if you want to bump up your stalking, I'll show you where I live later or something. Then of course she went and asked about that. You were really supposed to think I was kidding there. he thought. Then thought that maybe she did, and she was carrying on with it like the stalking joke. "I've had a sordid life." he answered to that.

Apparently. The statement only stoked her curiosity about him even more. But something stopped her initial urge to ask him a thousand questions about it. It was another something she wanted to see his eyes for; to see if she could discern whether or not he was trying to fuck with her. "Inviting me to things that you're either late for or don't show up to at all," she said instead, a touch quietly. " ... not that you should've been there at the psycho-cat-fest." No, he seemed to get hurt enough, thanks. "Come around to the back, don't knock," she added a bit abruptly and hung up the phone.

He blinked at the phone when she hung up, mouth half open to say more, the first of which was an apology for the being late thing, and of course more importantly, the not being at the bonfire when she got attacked. But the line was dead and she was gone, so he just pocketed it, put one of the buds of his mp3 player in his ear, and turned on his music for the rest of the walk. Luckily, Marquette's being small worked in his favor again because it didn't take him that long to get to her house. He obediently went around back, not knocking, and being a good quiet boy.

Leija was on the back porch, having already made her descent. She was frowning vaguely out at the dark of the backyard when he started to come around the corner. It was definitely a night to wander. She felt unsettled, even though she didn't have much of a reason to be. She stood up as he got closer and ambled down off the porch steps. "That one's my window," she said with a faint smile, turning a bit to point up. "For future stalking reference."

Caleb glanced up, and smirked. "Good to know." he said, tugging the bud out of his ear and letting it hang over his shoulder with the other. The very faintest strains of music could be heard, which happened to be 'where did you sleep last night' by nirvana. "For when I start escalating my stalking." he added. Then he started walking backwards the way he'd come. "This way to the scene of the crime." he added with a grin.

She followed, tucking her hands into her pockets for the moment, passing through the shadows of her neighborhood along with him. She was tempted to talk again, to start asking him things, but she didn't. She just walked and listened to the distant sounds of the music from his player.

Caleb walked along beside her, a little twitchy for being out again, and it wasn't like he wasn't still sore, he just could look past that. The cats were dead, he had to remember that, and theoretically, nothing was going to jump them for no reason. Logically they weren't a good target because there were two of them. He glanced at her. She looked better. She looked great, actually, compared to when he'd first seen her in the hospital. Of course now he was remembering everythign she'd said then, and the scar down her back. Occasionally, he'd watch her out of the corner of his eye. Yeah. She still really was completely pulling in his curiosity, and he had a lot of questions he wanted answered about her. "So why am I here?" he asked. "What's going on that you just had to get out at this time of night?"

Leija glanced over. That was actually a really good question. So she thought about it for a while, and couldn't come up with much that made any tangible sense. She lifted a shoulder. "It's kind of ... a bad head-night, I guess," she said quietly. "No particular reason." Except she kept thinking about her mother. That was one. But he didn't have to know that. Despite having her ass handed to her by demon cats not that long ago, she wasn't squidged at all about being out in the dark. It was comfortable. Always had been, really.

Bad head night, and you called me. Not your boyfriend. Me. And why is that? He thought, but had the sense not to ask. "So what's going on in your head that isn't good?" he asked. "You can give me specifics or vague out if you want, but...well...I've got time." he said, making a show of looking around. "Got all night, actually, and I could use something else to think about, really."

She chuckled faintly. "You'd probably need a couple weeks," she said wryly, reaching back to tug the elastic out of her ponytail and shook her hair out. It wasn't sticky-hot out, and she liked to feel it move as she walked anyway. She shot him another glance. "Anyway, you're not responsible for my mental health. ... use something else to think about besides ... ?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

He quirked a smirk at her. "Because I'm supposed to tell you what's going on in my head but you won't tell me what's going on in yours?" he asked. "How is that fair? I say it isn't, woman, so if you're expecting me to share, you have to too." he decided. He figured that she would probably tell him to fuck off on that one. But then again, he pretty much expected that in the first place, so whatever. He kept his eye on her as they walked, to see what she was going to say.

Yeah, but I have people who actually listen to me on a regular basis, she very nearly said. Was that bitchy? Maybe. He had a point, though, fair was fair between the two of them. Which honestly meant that he owed her. Leija just looked back at him for a couple of beats, then away. "I have massive mother-slash-abandonment issues. It's been a bad night for it. Now you, go. You know a bunch about me already."

The first thing he thought was that this was the second girl he had found that had abandonment issues. After that, the sinking realization that she was right. Fuck. He did owe her. Probably a lot. She'd sort of told him a whole lot. He groaned a little, looking at the cracked sidewalk for a second before looking back up to her. "Okay. You got me there. I probably owe you." he said. Then he drew in a deep breath, and let it out in a rush, trying to think of what to say--and of course to not immediately start asking her about what she'd just said. He marked it down as something to ask about later. "Did I tell you about my parents?" he asked.

Oh good, that worked. She mentally patted herself on the back for a pretty sly dodge -- not that she didn't want to hear about him, she just really didn't want to get into her crap right now -- and nodded a bit. "Well ... sort of. You told me they didn't give a shit about you," she said, not putting a particular inflection on that one way or another. It wasn't the time to 'aw, poor baby' him. She left it open for him to say whatever he wanted.

"Well, that's pretty much, the biggest, screaming issue in my life." Caleb said. "To put it mildly. I've been sort of trying to figure out where to go from there. I was dumped here, and now I'm not sure what to do, I guess?" he suggested, figuring he sounded stupid, but he didn't know how else to put it. "I've got these two older brothers, and they're both...they know the score. They know what they're doing, they have the abilities to pull off anything that they ever wanted. I don't...really have any of that." He rolled his eyes at himself. "I sound stupid." he said aloud.

"No you don't," Leija disagreed quietly. In a way? She could empathize. After all, what had her mother done but left her alone with minimal guidance on something that ruled over her whole life? Left her alone and almost predetermined to follow in her suicidal footsteps. But they weren't talking about her. She considered asking what he did have, that kept him constantly beat to hell and back, but kept that one for later. She was quiet for a beat or two, looking at him sideways. "How about them? Are they willing to teach you ... the score? Do they care?"

"...that's a complicated answer." Caleb said after trying to think about where he'd even start answering that one. "I guess...I know it in my own way, it's just not necessarily what they know. We're all pretty different. But then we're all pretty far apart age-wise. And other shit...what they know you can't really teach." He gave a self mocking sort of half smile. "I'm not making a lot of sense, I know. Sorry."

"That's what happens when you have to talk around things," she said with a mild shrug. "Trust me, I know." She looked down at the toes of her boots as they walked. So his parents didn't care, dumped him off in BFE nowhere on his brothers ... and her mom took a flying leap off a bridge as soon as Leija could eat formula. They weren't both psychiatrist wet-dreams, nooo. "So it's driving me nuts, and I'm just going to ask," she said a bit abruptly, looking over at him. "What are you?"

The question jarred him some, and he stopped, looking at her. "...what am I?" he asked. "I--" he stopped, because he didn't know what to say. God did he not know what to say. He realized a few seconds too late that he had missed the point where he could have pretended to not know what she was talking about, if that would have worked in the first place. "Does it matter?" he asked instead, looking troubled, the expression flickering over his features before he schooled them.

Well that was a reaction that confirmed at least one suspicion. He didn't just know weird. He was weird in some manner of means. Leija stopped too, just watching his face. "You didn't think I was just fever-babbling," she pointed out, voice quiet. "I tell you I hold the hands of the dying, and I cry blood, and you take it in stride. I want to know why. ... it doesn't matter, no, but ... you have to understand curiosity, right?" Then, because it seemed important not to back him in a corner: "You don't have to tell me."

He was still watching her, that troubled sort of look in his eyes even if he managed to keep his expression level. You wouldn't want to be anywhere near me if you knew. You'd probably never want to speak to me again, and oh, I don't know. Try to find a way to get rid of me on a permanent basis. Most people would. And you... His mind was starting to race, and he still didn't know what to say. "...Not...not yet, okay?" he said. Then, because he was aware how unfair it was, even if she'd told him he didn't have to tell her-- "...please."

That only made her want to know more. But it didn't show on her face. She was good at that when she wanted to be, and really, he looked like he needed her to be good at that. She looked at him evenly for a moment, then nodded and started to walk again. Just in case he needed a second without her staring him down. She was impatient by nature, but Caleb was a friend. "I can wait," she said over her shoulder.

He watched her for a few heartbeats, before he started walking with her again, hands shoved into his pockets. "Thanks." he said, just about too quietly to hear, but not quite. "It's not that I don't trust you." he added, because he sort of thought that seemed important. Knowing it wasn't really her might mean something. He hoped.

She slowed down so he could catch up and they were walking next to each other again. It did mean something. She smiled faintly. "I know about hiding, Caleb," she said, voice only a notch above his. "If I hadn't gotten delirious ... you wouldn't know." She paused and gave him a brief glance. "I'm a pushy bitch, I'm sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.'

He gave her the ghost of a smile at that. "Yeah, well...you told me what I wanted to know, I feel kinda bad about not...returning the favor." he admitted. "I just...it's kind of one of those things that you don't exactly let people know about if you don't absolutely have to. With you though...I...I've been trying to figure it out. It's been driving me kind of crazy, actually. Trying to work out the angles. What you are, what it means...I've never run into anyone like you." he said. And that last bit he meant on more than just the supernatural level, really.

That's because most of us can't hack it and jump off bridges, she thought, perhaps a bit bitterly. Just maybe. "Yeah well ... there's not a whole bunch of us, from what I understand," she said, letting the questions ino his nature drop. And of course taking his statement purely in the supernatural sense. It wasn't like she was special any other way, really. "I told you I don't mind questions," she added with a little half-smile.

"Yeah, but..." Caleb said, shrugging. "I don't want to annoy the shit out of you and run you off, either." he added. Then stopped, the orphanage looming up ahead. "And, there it is." he said, nodding towards it. "A whole lot of floors of doom." He flashed a grin at her as he walked up ahead of her, then turned around to walk backwards. "Coming?" he asked.

"It'll annoy me more if you just look at me funny and don't ask. And I'm not going anywhere, stalker, remember?" But then the orphanage had her attention. She'd seen the building before, in passing and in the daytime, but didn't have a clue what it was. It looked ... wow. She picked up her pace enough to catch up to him, and resisted the childish urge to tag him in the shoulder and race him to the building.

Caleb grinned as she caught up to him, and turned back around, looking at the building, then her out of the corner of his eye--then back at the building. He picked up his pace too. Then, because the whole childish vibe was definitely there, he took off at a run towards it.

If they weren't supposed to be on their way to breaking and entering (again), Leija probably would've yelled at him about stealing her idea. As it was, she just scoffed in joking indignation and ran after him. Her shoulders didn't like it, and it sent pain tracing down through her still-healing leg, but she didn't care. She got close enough and pushed him lightly in the lower back, stifling laughs.

She wasn't the only one in pain from it, he just had that high pain tolerence going for him. She did of course make spikes of it shoot through him from the push on the back, considering all the stitches he had back there. There was a light hiss, that was the only indication, as they got up to the buildng, he rounded the corner, and stopped, out of the view of the main streets, which was essential for breaking into a place.

She didn't hear it, and thusly the remorse she probably would've felt was nil. One didn't race without acknowledging the possibility of body-contact, she'd learned that a long time ago from her cousins. She slowed to an ungraceful stop, panting just a teensy bit. 'Cause yeah, she didn't do a whole lot of running. Her head fell back and she looked up at the building. So it used to be an orphanage. Interesting.

Caleb was looking up at it too, remembering the bullshit involved to get to the roof. He actually wanted to go through the place this time though. Wander around it with Leija, look around, take his time. "Last time I came here there was a door that was open...let's try that first. I know it's not as criminal as going for a broken window, but probably easier." he added after he'd caught his breath, and he started towards the steps that lead up to the heavy metal door.

Since she had no clue about the place at all, Leija followed along amiably enough. The big building had her interest already, and part of her wished that she'd brought a camera. It probably wasn't going anywhere, though, they could always come back. It didn't occur to her to wonder why she'd automatically included Caleb in that vague future plan. She just walked behind him.

He got up the steps, then tugged at the door handle, which to his surprise, the door came open. "...well that was easy." he said. He stopped as he pulled the door open farther, a light gust of air coming from inside the black hallway to hell. It was even blacker than the last time he'd been here, since there weren't teenagers all over the place having a party. Stepping in, he wondered if they'd even manage to find their way through the first hall. He knew there was a staircase way up ahead to the left... Looking over his shoulder at Leija, he quirked a half smile. "Here would be where you prove if you trust me or not." he said.

She quirked one back, though some instinctive part of her did have a flicker of disquiet. It was a very black hallway, contained pretty much no light whatsoever in fact, and she was very alone with a guy she didn't know well at all. Who could overpower her fairly easily, most likely. And so big abandoned dark buildings were creepy just by nature. But ... maybe she didn't have much to lose. "And vice versa," she pointed out, none of the doubt in her voice at all. "I'm behind you, after all."

"Yeah." he said, agreeing with her on that, actually. He waited for a minute, then reached out to take her wrist, tugging her inside. The door shut behind her, and any light that had been given from outside died a miserable, immediate death. He looked around, mind trying to map out where he was, where he was facing, how close the walls were. Because wow, was it dark. One thing that he'd noticed around here was that night time actually was dark. You could see stars, and that was because the city lights weren't overpowering the sky. In here, it sort of made him wonder if there would ever be light again. It felt that fathomless, even if he knew it wasn't.

Leija felt her spine just crawl. She fought off the urge to immediately turn around and start groping for the door. She twisted her wrist in his grip until he let go enough for her to take his actual hand again, and tried not to grip it too hard. She was usually fairly difficult to scare, when it came to those fake haunted houses and movies and bullshit, but this was dark. And silent as a tomb except for their breathing. She vowed that she would not be a complete pussy and embarrass herself. ... but if she couldn't go the out-the-door route, she really wanted to take her wings out.

Okay he hadn't actually expected her to hold his hand. It made him twitchy, but just from that, he could feel the tension in her. In the way she was holding onto his hand tightly but in a kind of controlled manner. What he didn't do was try to let go or get her to stop. Really, if they were going to be wandering up a hallway of screaming hellish doom, he would feel better about having her in physical contact since he couldn't see her and sounds in a place like this weren't trustable. He turned his face towards where he knew she was even if he couldn't see even the tiniest bit of her. It was a really weird feeling...knowing she was there because he had hold of her hand, but not being able to see her at all. "Are you okay? We can leave." he said, voice quiet. He'd kept it quiet to kind of avoid an echoey result in the hallway, and thankfully he managed it.

The disembodied Caleb-voice was pretty creepy. Pretty much anything in this place would be creepy, she thought. But he was asking her if she was okay and offering to bail with her, and that just wasn't cool. She was a fucking angel of death (sort of), what could possibly scare her? Leija's jaw set and she felt her Stubborn kick in. Fuck this place. "I have light," she said. She let go of his hand and moved forward, brushing lightly by him as she passed to keep the sense of where he was. It was a tingling, terrifying sensation, walking blindly into that all-encompassing darkness. After several paces she stopped, heart beating hard. "Don't freak out, okay?" she said, still quiet.

Caleb had the irrational urge to grab her back when she brushed past. Like he was supposed to go first just in case there were...things that so completely weren't actually there in the dark, but the imagination had a way of putting there anyways. To be fair, he knew he attracted trouble like that, so it wasn't impossible that some demonic evil had taken up residence in the building since he'd been there last. So yeah. He had a moment of wanting to put her behind him and go first, and all that other inane bullshit. He managed not to, though he had to fight down a wave of...something. Being protective? Probably. He knew she was still injured, it made sense. He didn't want her to get hurt. "....okay." he answered belatedly, realizing he was staring hard into the dark as if he could find some way of seeing her. Like she wasn't just a voice whispered in the blackness.

Okay. She'd told Thom not to freak out too, and he had, and she was torn for a minute between not risking that again and getting her eyes to fucking work in this place. In the end, bravado won out and she reached behind herself, pulling the hoodie she'd had on up and over her head. It wasn't cold, but she felt a chill anyway. It was in her habit to wear tanktops for just these sorts of occasions. Taking a break, Leija closed her eyes and did the indescribable thing she did to push her wings out of her back. Once they were out, turning the world behind her eyelids bright orange, sheturning the world behind her eyelids bright orange, she gave a single powerful flap so Caleb's eyes would open to them too. ... and braced herself for some freaking out.

When he saw the bright flaming wings, his involuntary reaction was to back up. He didn't have that much room to back up, however, so his back hit the shut door, with a thud and bright sparks of pain, and he stared. It wasn't fear exactly. Shock, more like it. She'd told him before she had wings and all, but...holy shit was it another thing to see them. And they were on fire. Or...maybe they were fire. The afterimags in his eyes were burned in, so he was going to have to give his eyes time to adjust, though it was amazingly difficult to look away.

She realized belatedly, as she squinted against the circle of light that she'd made, that she probably should've told him to close his eyes. Leija winced a bit. Shit. It might've also helped to tell him fire was going to come out of her back. She stretched them out to their full eight-foot span -- because it felt damn good, every time she took them out -- and tucked them back close to her body again. She turned and tried to make Caleb out, blocking at least the bulk of the swirling wing-shaped flames with her body. "You okay?" she asked, thinking she really had to stop giving them such a dramatic introduction.

He blinked again, reaching up to rub at his eye a touch. "Yeah." he said, mentally shaking himself. "I..." he had no words is what. "Jesus." He pushed off of the door, and took a few steps closer to her, looking her over like he'd never seen her before. Once the bright light spots burned into his eyes started to fade some and he could see her again, he quirked the faintest of smiles. "Those are..." Beautiful? Amazing? Crazy Insane? Probably all three. He gave a little laugh at himself. "I've never seen anything like that before." Which was a lot, coming from him.

Her own mind supplied some fun adjectives as he paused. Terrifying? Hideous? Unspeakably unsettling? They gave a little shudder behind her back, their own self-created breeze lifting her hair over one shoulder. She could see him better as he came closer, and at least he didn't look ... bad. Scared, weirded out, something. She wiped her palms on her jeans. "Me either," she said with a faint smile.

He was watching them, then ticked his eyes to her. He gave a sheepish little half smile. He wanted to touch them, but didn't want to ask. He was itching to reach out and run his fingertips along the edge of one, just to see. They didn't feel like they were putting out heat, since yeah, it would have been making the hallway a hell of a lot warmer. Caleb wanted her to spread them out again, so he could see her from the front when she did it, and again from the back, because of course now that he'd seen her like this, he wanted to draw her. Not that he would ever tell her that. Ever ever ever.

Weirdly, she felt a blush come into her cheeks. Caleb didn't stare. He wasn't a staring type of guy, he was too cagey, but he was really looking at her. Which made perfect sense, seeing as how she had fire wings that he'd just now learned about, but still. To distract herself, she took care of the basics. "They don't hurt me, they don't burn anything they touch, they feel a little weird but I'm used to it, and they're fully functioning," she said, still keeping her voice fairly low. And I'm not a demon. I swear it. Please don't be weirded out by this.

Caleb was officially fascinated. Really, he was. Just...wow. He heard her, and nodded a touch. The demonic angle didn't come to mind, but that was because he knew what most people thought of as demons weren't necessarily the truth. He half reached out, then caught himself. He stopped the motion, then let his hand fall back to his side, though it was difficult. "What do they feel like?" he asked. Can I touch them? Please? Because that wasn't creepy or wouldn't at all make her feel like a science experiment or anything.

Leija recognized it for what it was and smiled a little. She knew the impulse, better than he probably knew. When they were still new to her? She couldn't stop touching them. "Kinda buzzy-tingly. They don't hurt." One of them moved, extending around her left arm more toward him in a sort of offering. She wasn't going to make him ask. Funny how this seemed to have completely distracted him from where they were.

It so had. He would have been hard pressed to remember where they were at all right then. He wasn't usually easily distracted, but hello--Flaming Fucking Wings. Yeah that would do it every time. When she extended the wing towards him, he brought his hand up, hesitantly at first, but then decided whatever, she was probably trying to make it easier on him in the first place, so he brushed his fingers along the edge of one wing. It was such an amazingly strange sensation that he wasn't sure he could have described it accurately if he'd had a gun to his head.

It was sort of like a charged feeling, but didn't have the bite of something that was charged. Almost soft? But not quite. A whole host of words that almost fit but none that actually did flickered through his mind as he watched the progress of his fingers down the edge of her wing. A surprised little half smile was on his face even if he didn't realize it, and he moved to run his palm over the inner arc of the wing, drawing closer to her shoulder.

It felt odd for her too. Her angelic extensions weren't fingerip-sensitive by any means, but she could feel his touch. Which was strange, because they weren't quite solid, just seemed to get denser in the middle. She watched the progress of his hand, subconsciously stretching the wing out more to give him more surface area. Liquid heatless flames licked and curled around his fingers of their own accord. Her father had touched them before, but never ... like that. Thom hadn't ever even come close to the suggestion that he wanted to. The sensation crept up through where they folded and into her back, sending ripplies of tingles down her spine. Her cheeks darkened a bit and her eyes moved to his face.

Possibly lucky for her, the lighting she was giving the hallway as well as his utter distraction had him missing the fact that she was blushing. He watched when she extended the wing a little more. He watched the flames, and they seemed to move like real fire. Constantly in motion, flickering but not consuming anything, so there wasn't the burning smell that went along with, and of course the lack of heat. There was just the visuals, and the indescribable sensation of what they felt like. He realized belatedly that he hadn't said anything for what seemed like a long time, and he should really stop pawing her wings now. Even if he really wanted to step behind her, run his hand down the top edge, to see if it felt like bone beneath it, then touch the other one. It was a stupid impulse, and yeah, she probably got this all the time with people who knew or something, and yeah.

He needed to quit it now. "They feel like they're there but...not?" he suggested. "Are they really there? Could anyone hurt them?" he asked, eyes finally ticking back to her face. His hand was a little slower in retracting itself from her wing, staying where it was, lingering as his fingertips drew downward until he had to drop his hand to his side.

Leija had to clamp down hard on a shiver that threatened just before his fingers fell away. She hadn't really known they were that sensitive. "They're really there," she confirmed with a faint chuckle. "They're just not solid until you get ..." One arm lifted and she reached behind herself, wings rising to meet her hand. "Here." She half-turned and took him by the wrist, guiding his hand around to the base of the wing. There was resistance under the flames there, that tapered into where they made their big bend. It wasn't bone, she knew that much, but it was something that seemed to keep them formed. She realized dimly that it was probably a bad idea to invite more touching, seeing as how her cheeks were burning and there was something tingly curled in her belly, but witness how that didn't stop her. It was ... doing something for her, she just couldn't put her finger on what yet. "I think they could be hurt," she added belatedly.

He let her guide his hand, and he explored a little, slightly more confident in it now than he had been a moment ago. And hey he hadn't really wanted to stop figuring them out yet anyways, so if she was going to go and invite it like that, he was game. Stepping the slightest bit closer, he looked over her shoulder to where her wing met her back, and he smiled a bit as he found what she was talking about. Where they were solid then slowly drifted to not. Or what felt like it, anyways. Since she'd done that, he went with his other impulse, and did step behind her then, tracing the whole arc of her wing from the big bend down to her back, and he even traced his fingers along where the two seemed to meet, just to feel the wholly weird sensation of the firey wings meeting her skin.

He reached out to touch the other one too, almost to see if they were uniform, or if they were different even a little bit. "Hopefully not by much." he said, after again realizing it had been a while since he'd spoken. He really needed to work on that. Or snap the fuck out of it or something. "Sorry, they're just...amazing." he finally settled on the word. Though still there were a lot of others that seemed to fit.

Her back tensed just slightly as his fingers contacted real skin, and she almost stopped him there. Because these were not feelings she should be having. Not with someone who happened to not be her boyfriend. Nevermind that she'd invited it, they'd never been ... explored like that before by someone who wasn't her, and the fact that he seemed to want to touch them was ... something. Something she shouldn't look for a word for. But still she was moving her wings to accommodate what he seemed interested in while her heart fluttered in stupid and bad ways. Say something, idiot. 'Yeah, they're great, thanks, but look, they serve as torches too, let's go.' She tried to tell herself it was esoteric interest, nothing more. They were just wings, not necessarily ... an intimate part of her. Because they weren't. They were flaming, for fuck's sake, of course he was interested. In her distracted fluttery thinking, she didn't answer, just stared into the dark around them and tried to ignore herself.

He noticed her tense a little when he touched her back, something that seemed to filter in a little late. When it sank in that's what he'd seen, he stepped back and shoved his hands into his pockets, so he couldn't be temped to reach out and touch them again. He didn't trust himself not to--so pockets. Yeah. Okay...moving on. What were they doing? What were they doing that wasn't him being up close and personal with her and pawing flaming wings like an idiot? He glanced around. Oh yeah. Orphanage. Tresspassing. Exploring the hallway of imminent death. Which he belatedly realized he'd completely fucking forgotten about for a few minutes there. Apparently, flaming wings trumped creepy crawly doom feelings in hallways to hell. Good to know. Really.

"So...we can see now." he said lamely, clearing his throat in an attempt to get his head back on track. And not back on the 'bombard Leija with a million questions he couldn't even do her the courtesy of returning the favor on' one.

Way to kill the room, genius, her constant internal monolgue muttered. Yeah, hi, witness her totally not expecting him to be so enthralled and touchy and ... yeah. It was nothing. There was nothing there but 'oh look, flaming wings, I've never seen that before'. And that was what she was going to stick with. Because in the minds of other people, they were separate from her. It wasn't like he'd been touching her boobs or anything. Just because she was an idiot moron didn't mean that ... yeah, she lost track of her point in there somewhere. She couldn't look at him and she hated it, because it wasn't his fault. "Onward, then," she said finally, and started to walk forward through the black hallway of awkward doom, lighting the way with her back.

He waited, watching her walk around him, eyes following her, then he turned to walk with her. Despite the whole her having big flaming wings on her back, and clearly being far cooler than he would ever be in his entire life, what short bit he figured he had left to him, he still had the urge to walk ahead of her. And in the end he did, even if it was only about half a step. Silent for a few moments, he finally smirked, glancing at the floor then back over his shoulder at her. "So if I start calling you tinkerbell, are you going to kick my ass?" he teased.

Before he spoke, her mind was still gnawing over the whole thing. Thom hadn't wanted to touch them. Hadn't even asked to see them again, after the whole shock of it was all over. He'd accepted and knew pretty much everything she could tell him, and he hadn't asked. Touching was the first thing Caleb wanted to do. What did that mean? Why was she thinking about this now instead of some other time that was better and -- ... then what he said sank in enough and she started to laugh, clapping a hand over her mouth to stifle it some. "I will so kick your ass," she confirmed, unable to help herself.

He was grinning at her then. "But you're so cute and bright and helpful with those things. And other people don't see them, right? Like people don't see fairys, and all we'd need to do is put little bells on you..." he continued, thinking of her in a tinkerbell costume. Which was probably mental imagery he shouldn't have brought to mind, because innocent and disney didn't really factor in with what he was imagining. So he decided to send his thoughts elsewhere. Really, that's where they belonged, not on that. But still. He couldn't not tease her.

"I will angrily thwart any attempts to put bells on me," she insisted, though she was snickering. A lot. She could see herself, absolutely fuming in pink tulle with a fake-diamond tiara. Though the wand might be helpful to hit people in the face with. "They are not cute, thank you. They're ... unsettling." She flickered them a little, subconsciously.

"I didn't say they were cute." Caleb said. Then immediately regretted it. He'd said that out loud, hadn't he. Shit. Well, at least it was mostly dark, and the only light was fire light which wasn't good for sorting out color, like red on his cheeks. "But sure, unsettling. Check. Not at all cool, amazing and awesome or anything, really." he continued, hoping she'd just sort of not pick up on his first statement.

No such luck. Leija looked over at him. Okay, he really just didn't say she was cute. Because she completely wasn't, and even if she was, Caleb wouldn't think so anyway. Because ... just because. She had no idea oif she wanted to call him on it or not, however. "No ... none of the above," she said. " ... and I'm not cute." Because she had to deny that until death.

Goddamnit. She'd noticed. and then refuted it. So he couldn't let it go now. He found the staircase though, and started up it, eyes on the doors that opened up and dropped down to nothing. Which was weird, and there were a bunch of them. He could imagine running down the steps at full tilt and just...falling. Wasn't that morbid? "Yes they are, and yes you are." he said. His tone suggested there really wasn't any way he was going to concede the argument, so she should just give up now.

Okay, so maybe he had. Which was obviously just a I'm-Your-Guy-Friend-And-I-Can't-Let-You-Dog-On-Yourself thing. Which meant she could argue. Whilst looking around them as they ascended the stairs. This place, now that she could see some of it, definitely warranted a camera. "No, I am not. I'm average on my best days, and you don't have to be nice to me."

"Leija, have I somehow given you the total misconception that I'm a nice guy?" Caleb asked, looking over at her again as he started up to the second floor, leaving the door to nowhere behind. "If so, let's correct that right now. I'm really not. I can be nice sometimes, I guess, but I'm not like, that guy." He paused, then with the very faintest thread of seriousness underlying his tone, he added: "...trust me."

"I didn't say you were a nice guy," she insisted. "You're definitely not that guy. I simply indicated you had the potential to be nice to me, and lie about my being cute because 'you're unattractive and boring' is a shitty thing to say to somebody who's your friend. Or partner in crime, whatever. Still." She was still walking with him and didn't sound nearly as ranty as she did in her own head.

"I'm not being nice to you." Caleb said. "You're cute. You're pretty. You're different. You don't look like a carbon copy of every other girl in the world." he said, that note of seriousness still there in his tone. "And that's without knowing anything of the other shit about you. That's purely physical." I could have worded that better. he thought after he'd already said it.

It actually made her hesitate on the stairs for a beat. So much of her denied all that, it wasn't even funny. Because she'd just about convinced herself that Thom's attraction to her was just a weird fluke. In the beginning, at least. But Caleb was trying to flout that theory and it felt weirdly uncomfortable. He couldn't really think that. No way. Not in her world. It was the wings. Had to be. They just ... changed things. Leija latched onto that and kept walking, only half-realizing she hadn't answered him.

He noticed when she stopped, and he turned back to frown at her a little. He watched the play of emotions on her face, even if it was strange to watch it while framed with fire. Strange but compelling, if he was being honest with himself--which he wasn't. He was going with 'strange'. "Leija?" he asked after it became clear that she wasn't going to answer him. He started walking again, but kept her in sight, and turned to face her once he was in the second floor hallway. A little frown kept flickering over his features, unsure what was happening with her there.

"What?" she asked before she realized that he must've been asking because she'd gone all quiet and weird on him. Excellent. Her eyes ticked to one side, then settled back on his face as she tried to think of some sort of brush-off. It wasn't her night to be good at that, apparently. "Sorry. Just ... thinking," she said, deciding that then was a good time to peer over at something else. Seeing as how they had a neat setting and everything.

He watched her, frown settling in. "About?" he asked. "If it's the you being pretty thing, honestly, if I didn't think so, I'd just not have said anything. And it wasn't as if you were fishing for a compliment or anything, I said it first, just put it out there, so it wasn't me trying to placate you either." he added. Where the hell is this conversation going? Doesn't your boyfriend tell you you're beautiful? What the fuck?

"It's just ... weird to hear," she said, and while her expression was fairly neutral, her wings were moving around a bit more than they had been before he'd said anything. "Not bad, just weird." He was frowning at her. Leija stared at him for a beat and moved off to their right some, craning her neck a bit to look into an open door.

Again, his eyes followed her, then eventually he moved to walk up behind her too. He looked past her wings, over her shoulder into the room where he saw some debris on the floor, one shattered window, glass catching the light from her wings on the floor like little sharp stars. Boards were over it, so the only light in there was from her. "At least it feels slightly better up here than downstairs." he said quietly.

Oh good, he was letting it drop. Which was exactly what she should've done, instead of letting her mind continue to gnaw on it. Cute, pretty, different. And that was only physically. She couldn't help but wonder what else he could list off, but that would be counter-productive, because she was trying to stamp all those as patently untrue. "It does," she murmured her agreement. Everything here needed to be said softly, it felt like.

Eyes ticking to her again, he realized he was sort of looming behind her, and moved to step around her wing, which he lightly brushed against. It was kind of hard to guage how close they were--or maybe he just wanted to. He couldn't tell. He wasn't thinking about it in a very pointed manner. Taking a few steps into the room, he found it amusing that his shadow bounced a little crazily in the firelight. Glass crunched beneath his feet, and he looked around the room, seeing a metal air vent that looked like something evil should be living inside of it.

Leija watched him and the way he moved, illuminated by her own light. She felt firmly entrenched in a strange kind of unreality as she stood there, like they'd passed into some other kind of world. One that was dark and near-silent and a billion miles away from anything and everything else. She wondered briefly if he'd ever brought his girlfriend here. She stayed silent and where she was in the doorway, just looking.

He gave if there was anything lurking in that vent a good minute to come out if it was going to, and because it was purely his imagination, it of course didn't. Then he looked back at her. "You have scars on your back." he said. In his distraction with her wings, he hadn't looked for them on her back when he'd been there. And now that he was thinking about it, he had to wonder if they'd been there. He started walking back out towards her, since this room was empty. He knew where he wanted to go next though.

She blinked, as that was more or less an odd segue into conversation. She had a second to wonder just when the hell he'd seen them before remembering the whole hospital-gown aspect of her recent past. She moved back to let him through the door again, and followed as he headed off in another direction. "I do," she confirmed, but didn't immediately launch into an explanation.

He started leading them towards the auditorium, where the words he'd said earlier were spraypainted on the wall. That whole 'Scene of the Crime' thing. "What happened? Or is it something else?" he asked, since she hadn't offered an explanation, and one thing he had knowledge of was scard. What with the insane amount he had.

Leija stayed close, despite the fact that she was more and more comfortable in the big empty building. Comfortable or distracted. Or both. "They're burns," she said quietly, glad that she didn't have to make up something ludicrous anymore to explain them. "From when my wings came out the first time." That? Had been the more terrifying agony she'd ever experienced, and really didn't like to think about it much.

He looked around at her and frowned sharply at that. "That marked you? It hurt you?" he asked. That sounded...well, terribly fucked up and unfair. If she had to have wings or whatever, and they happened to be flaming ones, it wasn't cool that she'd been damaged by them. Especially after he knew he'd touched them and they didn't burn now. It didn't seem to make sense to him, even though he didn't entertain the possibility that she wasn't telling him the truth.

"Just that first time," she said, gaze settled on his face. She filed away his expression, wondering at the level of intense Unhappy in it. Interesting. "They never have since. Rite of passage or ... something. I didn't have them until I was twelve or so. Mom's --" she cut herself off for a beat, surprised that she'd even begun to mention her mother. But that would likely make Caleb ask more, so she finished the sentence. " ... Mom's were feathered. But her's hurt too. The first time."

Caleb caught the hesitation there, and he remembered what she'd said earlier about abandoment issues and her mother. "That's fucked up." he said, still not thinking it sounded terribly fair. He had his own transformation to deal with once a month, but it didn't hurt. It never had. They got to the auditorium, and before he went into the huge room, he stopped, and looked at her again. "Don't think I didn't catch the hesitation there, either. I'll not outright ask right now? But I do want to know." he informed her.

Even though his tone was soft enough, that seemed to touch a nerve. Leija's wings twitched and fluttered for a couple of seconds before she made them mostly still again. "What if I don't want you to know?" she asked, keeping her own voice low and quiet. But there was a hard sort of bitterness in her tone that he probably didn't deserve, but she entirely couldn't help. She just hoped dimly that the thread of fear wasn't audible.

"Then I guess it'll take me a long time to find out." Caleb said. "But if you want to know about me...and all the bullshit that comes along with me, you can't sit on something like that forever. You already know I've got massive parental issues." Really they defined him as a person. Pretty much every aspect of his life was a direct result of that in one form or another. Whether he wanted it to be or not, the issues there really did rule his life...and probably would continue to.

He did have massive parental issues. But he had massive parental issues that mattered. That were real and horrible and hadn't turned him into a weepy bitch like she was. "You get dumped on enough," she muttered, looking away and into the dark open doorway that led somewhere that felt cavernous. "You don't need my stupid shit that can't be changed." Leija moved past him, defying his chivalrous instinct again and walking into the room first.

Caleb grit his teeth a second. "So you're making decisions for me now?" he asked, and his tone was quiet, sightly echoey in the huge room though the threads beneath it were edging anger. He couldn't help it, he hated when people did that. "If you're going to cop the fuck out on shit, at least do it for your own sake, don't try to pretty it up with pretending it's for mine. That's bullshit, and if I needed protection from people's issues, I wouldn't fucking ask in the first place."

That got her hackles up a bit. Leija turned to look at him, eyes narrowed a touch. "Oh and you don't? You dance around subjects like it's your fucking job, and you expect me to be an open goddamn book? But my avoiding a subject is copping out. Yeah, great. How about you know pretty much everything important there is to know about me now, and I don't even know what the fuck kicked the shit out of you the last time? That's bullshit." Yeah, criticisms of her withholding information? Not going to fly.

"No, you telling me it's supposedly for my own good is copping out. That's just you trying to make it sound better, or justify it." Caleb snapped back. He walked over closer to her, but stayed well out of reach, eyes staying on her. "You haven't asked." he said. "You did back at the hospital, we got off track, and I told you more or less the most important thing there is to know about me, and the subject never came up again. So if you want to know, ask."

"It is for your own good, and mine, because there's nothing that can change it, and it's just a big fucking mess that leads into other big fucking messes. Trust me when I say that I'm just doing you a favor and saving you a thousand headaches and myself a friendship," she snapped, watching him closely. "Fine, I'm asking. Why is it, that two out of the four times I've actually seen you in person, you look like something big ripped you a new asshole?"

"Don't ever think you know what's best for me." Caleb snapped, looking incredibly pissed off with that, because he was. "Or that I'll bail on you because of some issues, or...what the fuck ever it is that's there. I stayed with my girlfriend after she went screaming fucking insane on me, so just---don't." He crossed his arms and walked away, not far, but more into the shadows, farther away from her light. He could see his shadow bounce crazily along the walls, and his eyes followed the cracks in the paint, up to the strange cords hanging from the ceiling, some with crosses attached to them. It occurred to him that the building had been a Catholic orphanage, and he didn't know if the ground had ever been blessed. If is had been, whatever had gone down here since had made sure it wasn't anymore.

"First time, I went out with my brother...he wanted to know if I could take care of myself. Shit...I attract trouble a lot, and he wanted to know if I could handle it on my own. Suffice to say I did, it just wasn't really pretty during the fight."

There were angry, frustrated urges to either throw something at him, point out the he didn't seem too quick on the uptake about what was best for him, and then bail. This had turned into a bunch of lovely fuckery, hadn't it? Leija knew she had an awesome capacity for pissing people off, she just wasn't really used to caring that she did. Her throat closed up, which just made her even angrier. This was why keeping people at a distance was so much a better idea, what had happened to that plan? She didn't answer for a minute. Because she felt unbelievably exposed, she pulled her wings back in and crouched, effectively plunging them back into darkness. "And the second?" she asked then, once she'd gotten her throat back under control.

When the light was gone, he turned back towards her, eyes only seeing blackness as they tried to adjust. He didn't say anything about her cutting the light. He just tried to orient himself so he knew where she was. The echoes in the place didn't help that, and it bothered him. He felt exposed there, even though he knew he was less so than walking around with a human torch. Being the light in the dark made you a target, being part of that darkness didn't. The feelings like that made him more uncomfortable, now wondering if she was a target, if there was anything in here with them. "I went looking for a fight." he said quietly. "It's easy to get into a lot of trouble really fast if you know where to look."

For the time being, Leija preferred the dark. It meant he couldn't see her, and that was probably the best thing for the moment. Not that she knew what the best thing was, apparently. He was right about that at least; that particular animal had eluded her for years. If something was going to take her, let it come. Hot tears tracked down her cheeks and she bit into the meat of the arm hugging her knees to keep from making a sound. She was good at it, silent crying was something she'd mastered in many a restroom at school. All it did was make her breathing deeper. "Why were you looking for a fight?" she asked after swallowing.

He was listening, and he followed suit even if he didn't know he had, crouching down where he was, and he'd managed to pinpoint her. Or mostly. His eyes had finished adjusting to the dark, and he was used to finding his way in it in the first place. Hearing her breathing change, he wasn't sure what that meant, he was just pretty sure he didn't like it. "Ever look around at your life and just...hate everything about it?" he asked. "I stopped, and after some shit happened...I..." he sighed, and dragged his fingers through his hair, looking away even if she probably couldn't see him at all. His eyes focused instead on the huge spraypainted outline of a figure to his left. That right by the empty doorway that spilled into a darker blackness than the one in the room they occupied.

"I realized I don't matter. Pretty much to anyone. Not really. Even the people I thought...cared." He sighed, hating how it sounded, and worse, that he could hear the hollowness in his own voice, that hurt sound like he had when he'd been talking to Dorian. He hated that probably more than anything in the world. "I just didn't care what happened to me." he finished finally, hoping the tone would be gone now. "...that's all."

He was listening, and he followed suit even if he didn't know he had, crouching down where he was, and he'd managed to pinpoint her. Or mostly. His eyes had finished adjusting to the dark, and he was used to finding his way in it in the first place. Hearing her breathing change, he wasn't sure what that meant, he was just pretty sure he didn't like it. "Ever look around at your life and just...hate everything about it?" he asked. "I stopped, and after some shit happened...I..." he sighed, and dragged his fingers through his hair, looking away even if she probably couldn't see him at all. His eyes focused instead on the huge spraypainted outline of a figure to his left. That right by the empty doorway that spilled into a darker blackness than the one in the room they occupied.

"I realized I don't matter. Pretty much to anyone. Not really. Even the people I thought...cared." He sighed, hating how it sounded, and worse, that he could hear the hollowness in his own voice, that hurt sound like he had when he'd been talking to Dorian. He hated that probably more than anything in the world. "I just didn't care what happened to me." he finished finally, hoping the tone would be gone now. "...that's all."

The biting she was having to do was really starting to fucking hurt, but Leija didn't let a peep out. The motivations behind the tears morphed from the bite in his voice into something totally different. What he was saying called her dream back into mind full-force and Technicolor clarity. It mingled with a real memory. A man who'd stepped in front of a bus in downtown Chicago. A balding, frumpy man who, instead of looking at peace when she knelt next to him, just looked confused. She didn't think she was being overly dramatic when she thought she could hear the capacity in Caleb to let himself die. She didn't think it was exaggerating at all. And oh god did that open up something hollow in her chest that pushed out from all sides. She tasted blood, and wasn't sure if it was from her arm or her eyes. She didn't know what to do, or what to say, so she just held still and tried to breathe properly. Which wasn't happening anymore.

She didn't answer him, and he didn't know what else to say. Really, as far as he was concerned, he'd probably already said too much. It wasn't really anything he wanted people to know, not really. Then, as his mind was churning over everything he head the change in her breathing. And that? Sounded like crying. Fuck. Because he hadn't screwed up enough already here, that really needed happening. He got up and was walking over before he'd made the decision to move, though that happened a lot in his experience. He tended to think just a little after he took action--not the best quality ever. He could track her in the dark alright now, the sounds, and the faintest of outlines he could see. When he got closer to her, he realized he didn't know what to do.

"...Leija, don't..." he let out a breath, and finished walking up to her, where he crouched down next to her. "...are you okay?" He could scent something there, something there, something that he hadn't before, and he was trying to place what. He really didn't want to believe it was his first instinct, which was blood. Yeah...but then wait, it was, wasn't it? She cried blood. He'd seen it.

Leija turned her face away from him even though he probably couldn't see her very well anyway. Her back shook and she held her breath through a couple of hard not-sobs before she inhaled again. Was that what her mother had thought? That she didn't matter to anyone? That she'd never be able to make a difference, and oblivion was a much better option? She couldn't say that she'd never thought about doing herself in, but ... but she couldn't. Mostly because she couldn't do that to her dad. Still, it was something. Leija realized she sucked massively and was acting crazy and should probably get around to saying something to him. "You matter," she managed after a shuddery breath. Which wasn't fantastic, but that was as far as she got.

He didn't know how to take the statement, besides his immediate reaction, which was that he wasn't really looking for validation. He didn't know what he'd do with it if he had it, because...well. To be blunt, he didn't actually disagree with things. With the way things in his life had gone, he knew there was something the matter with him, end of story. And if there was...whatever. He didn't want to think about it right now. It took him a few long moments, but eventually he reached out to touch her shoulder, he was sort of ready to pull back again the second she so much as twitched, some inner part of himself positive she would. Like she'd pull away, or hit him or something.

She didn't pull away. Quite the opposite, Leija went very still. The warm pressure of fingers seemed to quiet something in her head. Or drag her more outside of it. Or something. Whatever the case, the tension in her jaw eased up off of her own skin and her breathing started to even out. Like she'd told him, it was all a big jumbled mess of emotions and issues that she'd probably die before she could really sort out. He'd just hit a couple of very raw nerves. "I'm sorry," she whispered, voice raw around the edges. "I just ... I'm sorry."

Well, he hadn't been hit yet. And as twitchy as it made him, he couldn't really just let her sit in the dark and cry, so...he got a little closer, and slid his arm around her back. He didn't even know what she was sorry for right now, and soooo wasn't asking. All he knew was it was probably not anything she really needed to be sorry about. "Don't worry about..anything right now." he said, quiet but loud enough for her to hear. "I didn't mean to upset you, or...bring up other things, or.." Or whatever just happened. He really needed to stop being around people. Like, any people. He always wound up fucking up somehow, and half the time he didn't even know how. Now she was crying, and he wasn't sure why, and...yeah. That disappearing thing was sounding like an awesome option.

He sounded confused. And rightfully so. He didn't know that sometimes this just happened to her, after all. She just wished she had some way to explain that didn't sound terribly emo and stupid. Leija didn't lean on him or anything, aware in the back of her mind that it was probably a sacrifice for him just to offer physical comfort. "I've been to over ... forty suicides," she murmured, sounding more distant now. Which was where she should be. "Their eyes are almost always so ... empty. At the end. Like the important parts are already gone ..." That's what your voice sounded like. She couldn't say it. It was too close. Leija swallowed thickly. " ... and I know that doesn't ... make sense. I can't ... just ..." She gave up and dropped her forehead down to her arm, squeezing her eyes shut tight. This was her fault.

He listened, wincing slightly. That sounded fucked up. In a way that was quite a lot like 'hey, that's a little bit much to lay on a teenage girl, don't you think, universe?' sort of way. "...breathe." he said after a few moments, giving up on keeping his distance right now. He still wasn't entirely sure--wait. He was apparently fucking braindead tonight, because he just clicked together what he'd been saying and the current trauma. Where the lines might have been followed, and he grit his teeth. And see this is why you don't tell people anything. a nasty little voice in the back of his head reminded him sharply.

"I'm sorry." he added, not sure what for exactly, but he was sorry. Probably mostly because she felt like she did, and she was apparently not dealing well with her..what. Duty? Job? Whatever it was. He shifted, pulling her a little closer to him. He knew it wasn't much, and well. It wasn't like he was good at this kind of thing, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Maybe his instincts wouldn't backfire this time. He could hope.

This was wrong. This was backwards, and it was exactly what he'd been telling her other people did. Listened to his shit with one ear while they bitched and moaned about their own issues. Leija rallied, shoving every stomach-turning thought of how she would feel if she had to show up for his suicide down deep. He'd been telling her important stuff. The most important stuff. She tapped into the strength that got her up (almost) every morning and shifed a bit against him. She twisted, stopping hugging herself to hug him instead, both arms moving around his shoulders. "No," she started, only a little bit of quaver left. "You're not allowed to be sorry for how you feel, or talking about it, or anything. ... I can't ... make excuses for other people, and they wouldn't hold water anyway 'cause they've been absolute shit to you. But there's better people out there, and you're worth caring about. Don't believe me all you want to, I'm not going to stop saying so." Please don't be mad, please please please ...

He wasn't quite prepared for the switch, and he was reminded of when they'd been in the hospital, and she'd been talking to him then actually asked about his stuff again. He hadn't been ready for that either. For once, the hug was actually easier to deal with than the other shit. that was because he still didn't know what to say. Where to move forward from there. IT felt like there were still things that were supposed to be understood, and he didn't know what they were. So there was a big missing piece of the puzzle and it was going to drive him insane. After a second, he'd put his other arm around her, and he rubbed her lower back the slightest bit, sort of an automatic gesture. "It's not them." he said, because that was really the only coherent thought that rose to the surface in his mind then. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

Leija closed her eyes -- even though it didn't make much of a difference -- and tightened her grip on him just slightly. "You didn't make me cry," she said back softly, even though that wasn't entirely true. He'd started it by being pissed off at her, but then it was other things. Not that she really knew how to tell him what. "It's just ... my worst, paralyzing fear. To have to go and ... watch a friend die. I can't even really ... tell you." That, and my mother killed herself. That's enough for me for one lifetime, how about you don't? She tucked her face in closer to his neck.

Thinking about that, he gave himself a few minutes as he milled it over, thinking that his feelings on the matter she would hate him for. Which was if he was taken down some night when he was out picking fights, or hell. Not, since fights seemed to find him just as easily, that he'd want her there for it. It was actually something he could look forward to. His own little personal angel of death. ...not that she was an angel. Wait. Was she? Fuck. If she was, then he was in far more trouble than he'd initially thought. Fuck fuck fuck. He was so not asking right now. Fuck.

"Sounds like it's really hard on you." he said. "To have to go to anyone." Let alone a friend. But seriously, I'd want you there, so I should keep that to myself, you might decide to hate me a whole lot. Then there's that idea I had two seconds ago about you being an angel, and if we were ever in a place where you could easily kill and hide my body? ...yeah.

Completely oblivious to the fact that she was hugging a half-demon, Leija just twitched a shoulder in response. "It's not always bad," she murmured softly. "It's just ... what I have to do." He smelled nice this close up. Which wasn't something she should even remotely be thinking, but it was oddly comforting. It was a warm guy-smell, but different than Thom's. She was quiet for a few beats, then sat back a little bit to look at his dim outline, but didn't let go. "How can I help?" she asked, voice quiet but intent.

It was his night for being thrown. He had no fucking clue what to say to her. How could she help? There was help? What? He frowned as that confusion showed, and he could see the very outline of her, from light somewhere up above. It still wasn't enough to really catch her expression or anything, so he had to go on the tone of her voice. He'd been going to say more about her duty and all that, but her question derailed that. "I don't think there is any help." he answered eventually, realizing he owed her one.

Leija didn't believe that. The part of her that was stubbornly optimistic insisted that there was help for anything and everything, if you just looked hard enough. Maybe for Caleb it would only be patience and someone steadfastly being there. If his stupid girlfriend wasn't going to do it, she silently vowed to do her best as his friend. "Well I'm here, okay? And I promise I won't be all ... weepy and stupid every time you try to talk to me." She smiled wryly in the dark. "It's just been ... a weird night. I'm sorry."

"You said before it was a bad-head night." Caleb said. "So don't be sorry." he continued. "And you're not stupid." He couldn't say she wasn't weepy, cuz she'd just been crying for at least fifteen minutes, not that time was easily gauged in there, but whatever. He wound up quirking a little half smile that had a wry edge to it. "I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to go stepping on your issues, and was just supposed to distract you."

She couldn't help but laugh a little. "Oh you've done that. Distracted me from being distracted even." She realized that she was still mostly hugging him and decided she should probably stop that. Leija did so, a bit reluctantly. She got the impression that he didn't get nearly as many hugs as he probably needed. Real ones.

When she moved, that was when he realized he'd still been kinda up close and personal with her, and it made him blink a touch. Oh. Right. Yeah. Moving on... He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself then, so he stood up, and offered her his hand up. "Distracted you from being distracted. Either I'm talented, or just that much of an asshole." he said. He knew which option he'd go for. "Do we get light back, Tink, or are we going to wander around in the dark and impale ourselves on...whatever's around? We are in an appropriate setting for gorey impalings."

"See, I was going to say talented, but that little nickname totally makes you an asshole," she said, feeling about ten thousand times lighter than she had ten minutes ago. It didn't ever really fix anything, but crying was definitely cathartic. She wasn't really aware he was offering his hand until she was already standing up and she ran into it with her shoulder. Oops. "Just for that, I get light and you get a blindfold and have to trust me to lead you out of here without any impalings."

"So we're leaving then?" he asked, putting his hands into his pockets, for lack of anything better to do with them. "And I'm expected to put my life in your hands?" he continued. He didn't sound like he was refusing, just clarifying. Actually, he was wondering if she'd actually do it, and what it would be like.

Leija paused. It had to be around one or two in the morning, though she couldn't really say she was eager to go anywhere. "I dunno, do you want to leave?" she asked. And, because she really wanted to know what he'd say: "Would you trust me with it?"

"Not really." Caleb said to the first part, and he shrugged one shoulder even if she couldn't see it. What with the dark. At the question of trust, he eyed her outline for a moment. "Why not?" he countered. He wondered if she'd answer that, or if she'd just let that part go. Falling silent, he waited for her answer.

"Because you strike me as having trouble trusting people?" she suggested, though it wasn't terribly off-the-cuff. And she sounded like she wasn't sure. Because she could be wrong. "... not that that's irrational or anything. That's just my impression."

Caleb backed up a few paces, still facing her. "Well, if anything happened to me...you'd already be here." he pointed out. He had a half smile on his face, and he just really hoped that she didn't hit him for that. Though he wouldn't actually blame her if she did. He could think of worse ways to go. Hell. He'd been in situations where he was sure he was going to die that were a lot worse. That and he still thought that if he did die, he'd want her there. He really probably needed to let that thought go, but he couldn't help it.

"Don't joke about that," she said immediately, voice low and very serious. "... please. It doesn't work that way anyway. You could ... it could happen right in front of me and someone else could get called to it." Though now that she was thinking about it, she wouldn't want any other valkyrie present; wouldn't want to have to see someone else being that for him. To try and distract a little from that horrible line of thinking, Leija started the visceral process of bringing her wings out again. "Close your eyes."

Caleb drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, shutting his eyes dutifully. "They're closed." he promised, waiting. He still didn't think that it was a bad thing. Though he would be disappointed if it wasn't her. He wondered if there was a way to ensure it was. And if so, if he'd look into doing it. Probably incredibly fucking morbid of him, but he didn't think he was going to go out in anything resembling a peaceful way, or anything. No. He knew he wouldn't.

They emerged and she shook them and once again there was light. Her stomach was a bit unsettled at all the talk of him dying. She didn't like it. She knew that it happened to everybody eventually, but she didn't like thinking it could happen to someone she'd just discovered anytime in the near future. "I don't want to talk about death anymore," she stated, though it wasn't accusatory. "Tell me something you love about being alive."

He opened his eyes again, and took a moment to take in the imagery of her again. He really should get over the wings thing, but it was hard to, they were just so...amazing. He glanced away and shifted, hoping she didn't notice him being all lame and oggling at them again. "something I love about being alive? Jesus, that's not a tall order or anything..." he said. Which after he said it, he realized for most people it was probably one of the easiest questions ever.

Leija didn't think so; she could name a few things right off the bat, at least. But now she was insanely curious as to what he'd come up with. "Doesn't have to be big," she modified quietly, just standing and looking at him expectantly. Yes, he was on the spot with it. The flame-wings at her back stretched outward and then up, throwing flickering light everywhere.

To give himself time, he made a bit of a face at her, then watched her wings, their span, the way they looked in general, drawing coming to mind again. It was strange, not being able to see her shadow at all, since the light was coming from her. The ceiling was lit up, the creepy cross-cords all hanging down swaying ever so slightly. All the cracks in the paint were readily apparent then, and he noticed up above there was a room that the walls had been eaten away, so you could look through the skeleton of the wall down into the auditorium. He could see the prayer chairs there, those designed in such a way that they were laid out in rows, and a little bench was fixed to the back of each one so those behind you could kneel on them to pray. He wanted to go up there. And he was stalling. He gave her a pained look. "Can't I give you a rain check?"

Leija's eyebrows drew together and she narrowed one eye at him a little. He wanted a rain check on coming up with something he loved about life? That was ... somewhat appalling. "No ..." she said slowly. She took a single step closer to him, eyes locked on his face. "You can't think of anything? Thunderstorms? Roller coasters? The smell of gasoline?" Your girlfriend?

He looked a bit put out, not liking that she was pushing that. "...I like thunderstorms." he conceded. He didn't know if that was something he 'loved about life' though. He figured she'd been looking for something more all encompassing, something...he didn't know. He didn't have any examples.

His face was revealing more to her than any words really ever could. Hell, she counted herself as pretty goddamn depressed, and even she could come up with things she loved about being alive. No wonder he was so reckless with his life, if he didn't have regular things he even enjoyed. She knew he would hate it, but it really did make her feel bad for him. She didn't really have a response for it that wouldn't probably piss him off, so she just nodded after a moment and turned to look around them a bit more thoroughly. Though only half her mind was on it.

Her silence wasn't terribly comforting. In fact, it just made him fidget a little, and he watched her while trying not to look like he was watching her. "What did you want? Some list of fluffy shit that makes me happy?" he asked in a low tone. Do you really think I'd be in this sort of condition on a near constant basis if there was enough out there to stick around for? There's nothing here. I'm sorry.

Leija made a pained little face at the wall. Actually yes, that had been exactly what she wanted. But when he put it like that, she saw what he meant. Amazing that she could still be that naive, wasn't it? "I wanted you to be honest," she very nearly whispered. "And you were." She was suddenly very weary of her own company, and decided that not talking much anymore was probably a good idea.

Caleb let the silence fall for a few long moments before he sighed, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry. I'm not...look, I'm fucked up, and I don't really mean that to bring you down. You wanted to hang out so you could not think about depressing bullshit, right? So just...I don't know. Ignore me. I didn't want to talk to you to talk about how...massively fucked my head is. Is there anything I can do?" he asked, taking a few steps over closer to her, but he didn't close the distance or anything.

She glanced over at him, though her gaze was aimed more toward his chest than his face. "You can not apologize, for one," she said, tone low and quiet. "You're not like ... on call to be my entertainment or anything. Talk about what you want to talk about. I asked, after all." She was always asking. Thom was right; she had a thousand questions. And apparently not many of them were good ones.

He laughed a little though the sound was a touch off. "Yeah, but what I want to talk about is you." he pointed out. "And you don't want to talk to me about what's going on with you." He continued making his way over towards her, eyes on her wings again. "And I'm not on call to be your entertainment, but I'm supposed to be your...well. Friend, right?" he asked. And yeah, it was possible he was actually getting confirmation on the subject.

She did shoot him a Look at that. "Of course you are," she said, because duh. It wasn't like she wandered around doing randomly illegal things with strangers. ... Except that first time. "I told you you're stuck with me now. And it's not that I don't want to talk to you about it. I don't want to talk about it, period. It's stupid anyway." She muttered that last part, watching him get closer.

"I'm guessing it isn't." Caleb commented. "I want to know about it. But then I want to know more about what you do, too, and that's a bad subject. We could go middle ground and you could tell me something about yourself that isn't based in trauma." he suggested, stopping when he was beside her again. It was possible he accidentally brushed his shoulder against one of her wings, too. Pure accident. Really.

The wing twitched away from him just on that in-someone's-way instinct, but settled back where it had been when he didn't move from that spot. Which was very nearly resting right on his shoulder. Leija had the brief, bitter thought that everything there was to know about her was based in trauma, even if she knew that wasn't completely true. "Like what?" she asked, looking over at him.

He smirked at her. "You were the one who was complaining I couldn't come up with anything." he said. "I don't know. What do you like? What kind of music do you listen to? Is there anything you can do really well?" he rattled off for her, just to give her a nice cross section of things she could choose to tell him about. He did stand there and pointedly wait, though, that little smirk still in place. Like yes, he did in fact expect an answer.

"Well, you already know I can't sing. Or dance very well," she said, and her own small smirk crossed her face. "My music tastes are really ... broad. As for what I can do ... I play classical piano. And violin. My dad's a music professor." So there. Yes, she was a huge geek. The awesomeness of fire-wings was just a sham. "That's minimally traumatic."

"You play two instruments, that's cool." Caleb said. "I don't play anything. I never had the patience to learn how to read music or anything like that. So it's cool that you have." Then he had to tease her a little. "See? That wasn't so hard, now was it?" Because he'd had such a difficult fucking time coming up with anything.

"Righteously painful," she deadpanned, quirking him a little smile. At least he hadn't immediately asked her to play for him. That was always something of a relief. "I had a bored childhood, I had to do something. What about you? Any hidden talents? Besides brooding?" She brushed the tip of her wing over his arm, in sort of a poke that wasn't.

Note to self. Don't ask questions that could lead to you having to answer back. He fidgeted slightly, and found the floor fascinating for a second. "...I draw sometimes." he offered, in a tone that suggested he didn't think it was anything that really qualified. He was also bracing himself for her to think it was stupid, since well. He certainly did.

Leija's eyebrows lifted. It was an odd thing to act sheepish about, in her opinion. That in itself was pretty telling. "That's awesome," she said, and genuinely meant it. "I can't even draw stick figures well, to save my life. Me and visual art aren't friends, so that rocks." She smiled at him, even though he wasn't looking at her.

He ticked his eyes back to her after a second, not sure if she was making fun of him or not. It didn't seem like it, but he couldn't be sure. "Well...that's about it. That's the extent of my talents that aren't also steeped in trauma." he said. Since he did happen to be good at one other thing. Just the one, but...yeah.

"Yeah," she said, voice quieting down just a bit. "Mine too." Because she could fly terribly fast, but only in those sorts of situations. The traumatic ones. She had the sudden urge to touch him again, to maybe take his hand or run her fingers through his hair. But she'd aggravated him enough for one night, so she resisted. "You're pretty good at b-and-e, though," she pointed out, going for a bit more levity. "And that's only traumatizing for others."

He laughed a little. "Yeah. Though to be fair, both times we've done it, no one's been home, and I haven't taken to too much of it since arriving here. You're just a bad influence." he accused in a bit of a playful manner. "But yeah. I'm only good at one other thing." he said. He didn't know if he was going to tell her, he just knew he was close. He was still under the impression he owed her something, and he couldn't tell her he was a half demon, but maybe he could give up the blood magic. Maybe.

That was just inviting her to ask, so Leija bit. If it meant him giving up more information about himself, she was all ears. "What's the one other thing?" she asked, still looking bemused from him calling her a bad influence. Maybe she was.

"Blood magic." Apparently he was going to tell her. He hoped it evened things out a little bit, maybe even explain just a little for her why he didn't balk at the Weird. It was something. "That I'm pretty good at." Though it did have it's own trauma, of course. In an immediate, bloody sort of way. He wondered if she would know about it or not. Just because she saw the aftermath of deat didn't mean she would know about something like that.

She frowned just slightly, and only for a second. "Blood magic," she repeated. She hadn't ever really heard directly of it outside of vague pop-culture references here and there. Leija lifted an eyebrow. "And what does that entail?"

Caleb grinned at her. "Blood." he answered. "I could show you if you wanted." he added. "It's...mainly offensive." he added, trying to think of a non-threatening way of putting it. Or non traumatic. "Basically there just in case anything happens, or I'm up against something bigger than me." Like, demons, or other crazy creatures who want to see what color my organs are.

" ... I take it you're using your own blood ...? Or ...?" She was curious, for sure, even though it felt kind of morbid to be. Maybe. But he was offering to show her, so. Maybe not. "Yeah, show me," she said, eyes ticking down over him before coming back to his face.

He was pretty sure he could deal with a little backlash by now. Sure, he still wasn't exactly in peak condition or anything, but it wouldn't be too much to do. So, he shrugged, then took the knife out of his pocket, thumbing the blade open. He tugged the sleeve of his shirt up on his left arm, just the barest bit, though, not enough so she could see the scars he had, but enough to expose the slashes he'd had on the heel of his hand and down to his wrist, from the fight with Mathias. If he was going to be cutting himself, he'd rather just open up something he already had, after all. Doing it quickly, without hesitating or anything, he dug the tip of the blade into one of the scratches and reopened it, then pocketed the knife again.

Caleb didn't pay much attention to her, not until the blood started to flow and he looked over at her. "Stay here." he said, and he crossed the room, leaving the light she provided. He was always well aware of the fact that blood magic was unstable and could backlash at any given time, so he didn't want her anywhere near it. He murmured softly under his breath one of the smaller spells he had, traced his finger in the air, the process leaving lit up red streaks that formed into a symbol. Just after they faded, there was a jolt of electricity, and a small ball of what looked like black light with tiny arcs of lightning shuddering around it hovered above the floor.

It stayed there, roiling in on itself for a few moments, and Caleb felt a slice open up on his shoulder. But as predicted, it wasn't too much to handle. He was going to say something, when the ball shot off, leaving the room entirely and he blinked after it.

Leija had winced just a bit as he cut himself open, her stomach knotting up a little at that. Not that she was really squeamish or anything, she just ... yeah. Didn't like to see him do it to himself. But she didn't say anything, and stayed put when she was ordered to. She watched with wide eyes as he made a glow-y symbol and then a ball of black and lightning. No wonder he didn't think she was crazy. She also blinked as the ball left their presence, glancing back to him. "Where'd you send it?" she asked, sounding even unsure that he had.

"...no idea." Caleb said honestly. "I'd figured it would dissipate, but apparently there's something that could be threatening nearby?" he suggested, then shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it'll dissipate on it's own later or something." He walked back over, pocketing his knife again and he could feel the trickle of blood on his shoulder, seeping into his shirt. The one on his wrist he just put a little bit of pressure on and it would quit in a second. He hadn't cut deep after all. "But anyways...that's blood magic. It's pretty much the only thing I can do that qualifies as self defense against...well. The supernatural bullshit."

Leija looked again where the thing had disappeared, wondering if maybe there was something threatening nearby. She wasn't floored, per se, by that little display, but she couldn't help but be impressed. "Well ... holy shit," she said, looking at him once more. She let out a weird little laugh. "That's ... way better than anything I can do, so. Good on you." Unaware of the more-freely flowing blood on his shoulder, she started to reach for his wrist before stopping herself.

He noticed her doing it, and turned his wrist out towards her to show her. "It's fine, see?" he asked. "I didn't cut deep or anything. There doesn't necessarily need to be a lot of blood. Just enough that the symbols can get traced, and that. Don't...don't try it though. When it backlashes, it's not pretty." Then he eyed her. "...Leija, you've got flaming fucking wings, and you're...kind of an angel of death, what part of that exactly isn't better than something just about anyone can learn?"

She looked at him sideways, lips twisted off to one side. "Caleb ... did you or did you not come and see me in the hospital because I got my ass handed to me by cats? Cats? I'm useless in a fight. I hit one with a stick 'cause it was headed at Journey's face, but ... these are just for transportation and show," she said, fluttering her wings. And because he wasn't yet, she licked her thumb and put it over the cut on his wrist, fingers curling around the rest of it to apply pressure. "I'm not an angel of death. I'm just a spectator."

He opened his mouth to protest her doing that, but in the end let her. It would if nothing else, keep her attention from other bleeding parts of him. That was the good thing about black. It hid things like growing wet spots. "Yeah but I had a few tussles with the cats too, and they really, really sucked." he said. Granted, he'd gotten out of them unscathed, but that was more because the cats seemed to want to ignore him. They wanted to kill the shit out of Journey, but him? It was like they hadn't even seen him. "...also, you fly. So...right there, you trump just about everything."

Leija almost protested that, but ... well, she had to admit that flying was pretty much the best thing ever. She glanced at him and then up at the high and dark ceiling above them. "I could take you up," she said. Though she wasn't entirely positive on that score. She knew her wings were incredibly strong. They had to be, to get her where she went and back in time for ... everything. She'd just never tried to have a passenger before. She looked down at her thubm on his wrist and waited for a response to the half-offer.

He eyed her for a moment, trying to decide if she was serious or not. "...you sure about that?" he asked, because she hadn't sounded exactly overwhelmingly confident. He also wasn't sure about the logistics of how it might work, or if she was strong enough to hold onto him. Then there was that whole holding on thing, and...yeah. But it did sound really intriguing at the same time. Decisions, decisions.

"If you could hold on ... yeah, pretty sure." She knew her armstrength was lacking; she probably couldn't pick him up while she was still on the ground, but she was fairly certain that her wings could lift both of them. Leija glanced up at him. Then remembered that she wasn't at 100% still, and added, "Maybe not tonight, 'cause I think my shoulders would rebel and leave me, but ... when I'm fully healed."

His eyes held hers for a few moments, then he nodded. "Okay. When you're healed." That would give a lot of time to back out of it, after all, now wouldn't it? That was his theory and he was sticking to it. He looked along her wings again, then back to her. "I think it's stopped." he said, swinging his wrist just the tiniest bit so she'd know what he was talking about.

Oh. Hell. Leija blushed a bit in the firelight and let him go, rubbing her thumb on her jeans. "There's really, honest to god, nothing like it," she said, because yeah ... talking about flying. She looked up again, watching the odd cords sway the way they were.

"That I can believe." he said, eyes on her face. Yeah, he really very much believed that. "So your lot in life isn't all bad then?" She got kick ass wings and she could fly, he didn't see a down side there. Except for the scars on her back, and again he was reminded of the drawing he'd done of them. That wouldn't have been good, but...she looked like she found something to like about it. He rolled his hurt shoulder just a little bit, to shift the fabric that was sticking to the slice.

"Not all bad," she said, though her voice was quiet and sounded minimally convinced of that. There was also the part about being able to see when people were going to die soon and not being able to help. And that she'd live for a couple hundred years if she didn't kill herself first. Which was fairly likely, the way things were going. But that all tied into the jumbled mess she didn't want to talk about. Her chin lowered and she was looking at him again.

"Well, if you're having trouble finding anything, or...having trouble dealing with shit..." he started, not entirely sure what he was offering, but feeling like he should. "I've seen some pretty fucked up things, so. I don't know. If you needed someone to talk to, I'm around...pretty much whenever." It was a bit awkward of him to offer, because he didn't quite know how to say it, so he hoped she just let him off the hook and knew what he was talking about.

She could be something like merciful. After a beat of just holding his gaze, Leija smiled. It was oddly bright for what they were talking about -- and the whole fucked up night in general -- but it was genuine. "Okay," she said softly. "Thank you." She considered re-stating her offer that he could always do the same, but she'd already said it a few times, and it felt like it would detract from his. So she didn't.

"You're welcome." he said, relieved that she'd not made him clarify himself into something that might make sense. He would have just tripped all over his words some more like a moron, so yeah. Not having to do that was awesome. He looked around the room again, more or less so he could give his attention something else to focus on, other than her. "So now that we've traumatized each other, and then sort of made up for it, stepped all over each others issues, and we've both bled..." he stopped and frowned, noticing a roundish mar on her arm, and he cut himself off and stepped closer, taking hold of her upper arm to get a better look at it. "........."

At first she didn't understand what had caught his attention, and Leija arched an eyebrow as he trailed off what he'd been about to say. Then he was taking her arm and she looked down. Oh. She'd had worse, for the same reason, but that one had ended up being pointless anyway. He'd just had to come over in the dark and find her out. She just wasn't sure how to explain it. So she stalled until he asked, which she was sure he would.

He sort of asked. Which was, he studied it, could tell quite clearly what it was, and eventually ticked his eyes up to meet hers in a silent question. It wasn't like he had to ask her what she'd done, he could see it for himself. He just more wondered why. Biting herself really didn't seem like something she'd do for the fuck of it, and he just...wasn't sure how to take it or what to say about it.

She frowned, the unspoken question more uncomfortable than if he'd been demanding. "It keeps me quiet," she said eventually, looking down at the spot instead of meeting his stare. She hadn't had to do that in a long time; he probably would've been highly upset at her arms a few months ago when she was still in school. "I didn't want you to know." It just tended to work better around people who didn't give a shit.

The first things that wen through his mind he was glad he didn't say. You turned out the lights, then were sitting in the dark breathing funny, what did you think you were hiding? "Well...you shouldn't do that." he said after a moment, frowning at her in an unsure manner. "You shouldn't hurt yourself." Yes, he was in fact fully aware of just how stupid that was coming from him. He who's shoulder was still bleeding, a trickle of it sliding down his back and side as he spoke.

Yeah, well, you shouldn't want to die all the time, she thought at him sourly. It was her method, and it usually worked when she needed it to, so. Whatever. She took her arm back. "Neither should you," she pointed out, also aware of how stupid it was coming from him.

Caleb gave her a Look for that, and shook his head, taking a few steps away. "Whatever, you shouldn't. And if you need to get away or something, do that, don't hurt yourself instead." Even if it wasn't a whole lot of hurting. It was still something that to him seemed like it could get worse, like it would graduate to something bigger. At least, that's how things had gone in his life, and he didn't particularly want to watch it hapen to someone like Leija.

It was impossible to explain, the way she just needed something to ground her and help her hold it all back when it threatened to overflow. When she was stuck places she couldn't leave and it felt like her chest was on the brink of exploding. When acting out and letting it go would just have her committed and she just had to buy herself time to calm down. He went looking for fights, she bit and breathed. What was more destructive? "What were you going to say?" she asked, pretty blatantly dropping that one.

Caleb had completely lost track of what he'd been saying in the first place after that, so he blinked and glanced back at her over his shoulder. "What was I going to say?" he asked, then shrugged. "...honestly I have no idea anymore." he said. "What had I been saying in the first place? I got derailed." And he didn't sound happy about letting the topic go, either, but wasn't pushing it.

He could be unhappy all he wanted to, she wasn't going to argue the point with him. They'd done enough of that, thanks. "Now that we've stepped all over issues and both bled ...?" she prompted. Because it had sounded like he had a suggestion on the tip of his tongue. Then, fairly randomly, she added in, "You know you turn your back on me a lot when you're upset."

He had been going to say something, but then she went and said that. He crossed his arms, and walked a few more paces away, then shrugged. "Do you like letting people see your eyes when you're upset?" he asked instead of agreeing, or trying to say that he didn't. He hadn't noticed he did, but yeah. He couldn't say she was wrong there, because she wasn't. He didn't like people getting the chance to read him, because he had no idea what they might get just from that. Call it a tic picked up after running into Erzulie, who found him when he was at his most vulnerable, and he still remembered her eyes--even if he didn't remember much else about that night.

Leija couldn't help but feel very faintly amused that her pointing that out had only made him walk further away. It died out soon enough. "A lot of times, my eyes are bleeding when I'm upset," she said, though that was really beside the point. She trailed after him for a few paces, closing the distance he'd put between them a touch. "But yes. Well ... more like, I like to see their eyes when I'm upset. It means more than what they say. What is it that you want to hide from me? Like, right now?" Because he hadn't turned around yet.

"Why do you want to see their eyes when you're upset?" he asked, slowing down a little so she could catch up. It seemed kind of strange to him, but supposed it might not be. It was probably normal, and he was just fucked up. Really, that was well established territory, the him being fucked up thing. He didn't answer what he wanted to hide from her. He wasn't sure he had an answer, really. Which was probably stupid, but it was true.

"I can tell if they care or not," she said, gaining on him since she'd slowed down. "If they just glaze over and give you lip service ... then there's really no point in talking to them. Probably ever again. But if they're engaged with the conversation or look actually concerned or something ... that's different." She got next to him and just walked wherever he was going, eyes down on the floor in front of them. "You didn't answer the question," she pointed out, though it wasn't harshly.

"I don't know." Caleb said honestly. "I guess it's not...specific, I just...don't like feeling like I'm..." vulnerable. He trailed off, and gave a shrug. "I don't make a lot of sense, I know. I'm not used to letting anyone get anywhere near close to me. I didn't really have any friends before I got here. So...I guess my first instinct is still to bail. Leave before anything worse can happen." Because worse? Has definitely happened.

That was more or less what Leija had thought was going on. She could definitely relate. But then she could also point out -- as she had done to herself -- that you didn't really ever gain much without risking stuff. However, Caleb was intelligent enough to understand that already, and Leija could also relate to habits and emotional reflexes overriding sense. "You make perfect sense," was all she really said.

"I think you might be the only person around who thinks so." Caleb said, and when they got to the stairs, he went up a flight instead of back down. "But that's why. It's not really you. Not in the personal sense." he continued, wondering if he was explaining himself better at all or he should give up and leave it alone.

She smirked faintly to herself, not hesitating a second in following him up the steps. "I didn't think it was," she said to his back. "Far be it from me to think I get special treatment." Her tone was light enough, considering. "I just wasn't sure if you realized that's what you do."

He shook his head. "I didn't, honestly." he answered her, winding them past another set of doors that dropped to nothing without pausing as he went up to the next landing. He paused, catching sight of the long rusted steel wires that were sticking out in the decayed wall at the head of the stairs. That could have been...uncomfortable. In a tetnus sort of way. So instead of heading off to the room he wanted to go into, he waited for her so she didn't run into spikey metal of doom. "It's automatic, so I didn't really notice." he finished his thought.

Leija stopped as he stopped, still one stair down. Her firelight sent crazy twisting shadows leaping off of the steel wires and she realized why he had. Leija's eyes ticked up to his face and she waited for him to continue leading the way, since he seemed keen on being in front. "Well now you do," she said quietly, and a bit late.

"I guess so." he agreed, wondering what that said about him. Or what it said about her that she noticed. Whatever, he needed less heavy thoughts. Leading them into the room that he'd seen earlier, the one that overlooked the auditorium, he walked inside, and stared down into the huge room, through the decayed walls. The light from her made the shadows from the remains of the wall bounce around on the floor far below, and he smiled. Crouching down by the edge, he looked out at the few crosses that hung from the cords, the light swaying they did.

It was difficult not to have heavy thoughts in a place like this, with the lines of conversation they'd been having. Leija tried to walk lightly, hoping that the floor was still solid and intact enough to support their combined weight. She felt a little squidgy about him being so close to the edge, but didn't say anything. She slowly got closer, fingertips running over the little prayer-desks or whatever they were. Kind of ironic that you're a quasi-angel and you don't know shit about religion.

Caleb was aware of her there, sort of in a round about sort of way. Like he knew how far she was, when she was within reach. He leaned forward, looking out over the edge, gauging how far the first cross on a cord was. He wanted one, and was thinking of getting one for her. Little keepsakes, to mark the occasion.

That squidgy feeling shot up into fear as she saw him lean even more. Because she was watching him. Before she could overthink it, Leija had moved forward and snagged a fistful of the back of his shirt. "Caleb," she said, voice a teensy bit high. "I think this place and structural integrity parted company a long fucking time ago."

He smirked, not stopping her at all, but not pulling back either. "C'mon, don't you want a cross?" he asked. "I do." He looked and narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge how far it was, and if he could snag one in one shot. It was a little belatedly that he realized that if she had hold of his shirt, she might feel the blood. He didn't think she'd grabbed close enough to his shoulder, but still.

"If my choices are a cross or your neck intact, I'll take door number two, thanks," she said, sounding annoyed only because she could definitely see him just fucking falling. Her wings had wrapped around the corners of her arms and -- as they were longer than her reach -- hovered around his body protectively. She shuffled forward just a little bit and grabbed with the other hand too. Grabbed in a wet place. Leija frowned.

Caleb twitched slightly. Shit. He felt the slide of her hand, and of course the spike of pain, not that that bothered him. "Just gimme a second." he said, and before she could do something like ask him about the blood, or pull him back, he pushed forward to grab at one of the cords, which he did manage to get. He yanked at it, nearly fell forward, but pulled back in time. The cross came free. He rocked back, inadvertently landing against her, but he was grinning.

And pretty well took five years off Leija's life in the process. Her grip tightened and she bent her knees as he made his daring grab for presents. She was absolutely sure for a second there that she was going to lose him -- because, when it came down to it, he outweighed her, and she wasn't strong enough to keep him up by brute force -- but then his weight was against her legs. She stumbled a little and managed to resist the urge to smack him.

He laughed, and tipped his head back to look up at her. "Got it." he said, then looked back down to open his hand. It was an old cross, probably something that had been in the building initially before someone decided to hang it. Brushing his thumb over it, he cleared some of the dust from it. Now he just needed another one. First, though, he reached up, took her hand, and placed the cross in it. "For you."

She'd been getting ready to bitch him out for being so damn cheerful about nearly killing himself when he killed the whole tirade. Leija looked down into the palm he'd put the cross in. For her? "Caleb, I don't -- ... you're bleeding," she said, registering what the dark smudges around the cross were. She crouched behind him and pulled the light in closer to his back.

"I'm fine." Caleb said, hoping that she'd leave it be. He was already looking for the second cross that was reachable, and he had to move down a little to eye it. The second one was smaller, metal glinting as it swung a bit back and forth. More than the first one, his grab for the first disturbed the air more than their presence had previously. He knew what he was going to do with it, too. The black cord around his right wrist had one silver symbol on it...Lullaby had randomly given it to him. So, this was going to go on that too. He eyed it again, guaging the distance, and the erosion of the floorboards beneath him along with the crumbling wall. He grabbed onto the floorboards, then made his grab for it.

He didn't even seem like he was remotely listening to her, and she was once again about to say something when he made a second lunge. Leija made a startled and definitely unhappy little noise and squeezed her eyes shut reflexively. God, please don't fall, please please please, DO NOT FALL ...

Unfortunately, he almost did. He got the cord, but wound up having to hold onto it so he didn't go plummeting down and getting himself killed. He didn't panic, though, he did wind up holding his breath. He shut his eyes, balanced, grabbed the floorboards, and pulled. the whole cord came loose, a bit of the ceiling clattering to the floor after a moment. Caleb fell back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, before he flashed a grin.

It took Leija a couple of milliseconds to realize that the thud of his body hitting the floorboards was right next to her instead of down below. Wood was biting into her palm and she realized she was gripping the cross hard enough to really hurt. "Ohmygod I could hit you so hard right now," she let out in an exhaled rush.

He couldn't help but laugh, curling on his side as he did so. Probably inappropriate for him to crack up, but he did. He'd made it, all was well. Caleb yanked the cord to get the cross off of it, and he let it slide off the side of the ledge, an echoey little thud sounding. "Sorry." he said, even if he sounded not sorry in the slightest. He really wasn't, he'd got his little rush, he was all good. They both had a keepsake now.

She open-palmed smacked him in the shoulder that wasn't bleeding. And then did it again for good measure, even though there wasn't a lot of real force behind it. "Now that you've successfully managed to give me heart failure, can you stop now?" she demanded. She knew he wasn't sorry. Leija rubbed the side of her head, looking highly disgruntled.

Caleb looked up at her, still grinning. "I can stop now, you gonna stop hitting me?" he asked. Though he didn't really sound like he'd minded that either. Worth it, in his opinion. He continued to lay on the floor, gazing up at her. "You need to relax." he told her. "Do you like your cross?"

"You need to be more careful," she muttered, though she did open her hand and look down at the cross. She let it dangle from her fingers, holding it up in the light. It was pretty, and looked old. "I do," she answered eventually, and looked back at him. "Thank you. Just don't ever do it again. And tell me why you're bleeding."

Caleb looked at his own cross, holding it up above his face to catch the light from her wings. He smiled, then sat up, hunching over indian style, to fix it to the cord around his wrist. "Remember I said not to try blood magic?" he asked. "That's why. Even if you don't fuck up, it backlashes." he answered her. He retied the cord, then looked at his shoulder, reaching up to slide his hand beneath the collar of his shirt. He felt along the slice, and it was clean, still bleeding a bit, and stung like a motherfucker. Not that he cared. "I'm okay...promise."

"You should clean it," she said after a moment of silence. She controlled the impulse to go yank his shirt up and look at it, see how bad it was. But that wasn't exactly her place, was it? It was his girlfriend's. Who wasn't here. ... who he hadn't grabbed a cross for. So she wouldn't think about that too hard, Leija rubbed her hand on her jeans and ducked her head through the cord the cross was on.

He watched her put the cross on, then rubbed a little more at the slice. "Cuz I have so much here I could clean it with." he said. "It's fine." He stood up, then held up his wrist near her wing, knuckles brushing it slightly, and he saw the two symbols now on his wrist. Two religious symbols, though he wasn't sure exactly what the first one was from. A light smile played on his lips, then he turned to tick his gaze to her face. "Okay I'm done in this room." he said. Yes, he was now officially in a good mood, weirdly enough. It showed.

"We could go," she suggested, getting her own feet under her and standing up. "I have stuff at home." And in all honesty, he'd scared her and she was all ruffled and unsettled now, and her spine kept tingling when he touched her wings by accident. She wanted back into the fresh air, away from all the jagged edges and broken glass and places to fall into the void.

He watched her eyes for a moment, assessing. "If you want to. I'd wanted to show you the roof, but...we could come back sometime to see that if you want to take off now." Just because he'd set himself back on being in a good mood didn't mean it was infectious, so he had to give her the option. The roof would still be there next time, after all. Hell. He didn't even know what time it was anymore, how long they'd been there. Probably a while.

Leija glanced up automatically, even though seeing the roof from there was impossible. It would have fresh air, but ... they'd have to come back down. She realized she was rubbing her palm on her jeans again and made herself stop. "Let's go," she said finally, expression that pained-hopeful sort of look that said she didn't want him to be irked or anything. " ... please."

He watched her expressions change, and quirked a half smile at her. "Sure." he said, bouncing ever so slightly on the balls of his feet, then he hopped back away from her, still smiling. "We're gone." he started back towards the door, and waited for her there, looking back over his shoulder at her. He almost reached out a hand for her, but in the end pocketed it, because that was stupid of him.

Well at least one of them felt better. She followed silently, providing the light, and getting used to the feel of something resting against her upper chest. She valued gifts; she'd keep it, wear it, and count it as lucky, since he didn't break his stupid neck getting it.

He kept quiet as he led them out of the building, which was a lot shorter a trip than coming up was. When they were out of the building again, he shut the door behind them on the hallway of imminent damnation, then took the stairs down two at a time, hopping the last four to the cracked cement. "So." he said. "How pissed at me are you?" he asked, turning to watch her walk down the steps.

It felt like walking out of the orphanage was a tangible relief. Like there was less pressure in the air outside. But it was probably her imagination. Once they were outside again and exposed, she shook her wings once and pulled them back into their hiding places. It always gave her gooseflesh to do. And walking around town with them blazing wasn't ever a good idea. "I'm not pissed," she said quietly as her boots hit the pavement.

"You seem pissed." he said. He waited for her, walking backwards for a few steps to keep her in full view. Then he watched her from the corner of his eye. She looked...strange without the wings. Almost like she looked like something was missing. That was fairly trippy. Now he was going to be looking for them all the time, even if he probably wouldn't get to see them again. That was a shame, in his opinion.

"You don't know what I'm like when I'm pissed," she pointed out, pulling her hoodie back on as they walked. Once it was settled, she tucked her hands into the big front pocket. She didn't offer any explanation of what she was, however. Mostly because she couldn't come up with one for herself, even. She just felt unhappy and unsettled.

"Do you happen to smack people when you're pissed?" he asked. "Because you smacked me. Can't say I didn't deserve it, but..." he shrugged. "C'mon...talk to me." he said. "Please?" He knocked his shoulder into hers lightly, in a little bit of a playful manner. It wasn't his hurt shoulder, though.

Leija swayed and heaved a sigh. He was trying, at least. He could just ignore her. Which she might've preferred at the moment, but. Yeah. "I smack people in the face when I'm pissed," she stated evenly enough. It was true. "You got off light. I just ... don't feel good, there's nothing to talk about."

"Bullshit." he said. "I know things have been kinda up and down tonight already, but something's on your mind. Tell me. Please. I can even promise that I won't dig much if you want me to. I just...want to know. Did I fuck up that bad?" he asked. "I know I do that a lot...usually when I'm not trying, but occasionally on purpose. Tonight wasn't, though, so if I did fuck up, I want to know, so I can not do it again."

"You didn't fuck up," she said, frowning at the pavement. "God, not everything's ... you fucking up somehow. I just don't make friends easily and one of them almost breaks his fucking neck twice in my presence and I'm sorry I can't just laugh it off and relax. You know that feeling when something startles you really bad and turns out it was nothing? Just ... it's me, leave it alone." She hunched her shoulders a little and walked faster.

He wondered how that wasn't him fucking up. Because it sounded quite a lot like it was him fucking up. Really it did. She pulled ahead a little bit, and he watched her going, before he jogged to catch up with her. "I didn't mean to scare you." he said. "Honestly, I didn't." At least this time he sounded sincere. He wasn't sorry about wht he'd done, per se, but he was sorry about how it made her feel. "I'll try not to do anything stupid around you again."

I'm not your mother, do what you want. But that was a bad thing to say, considering. Leija was all of the sudden really tired. She wanted off the goddamn emotional rollercoaster. "Do what you want," she did say out loud. "If you're not going to make it an overall policy." Leija paused for a second and made a disgusted sound at herself. Who the fuck was she to nag him? Silence would be pertinent about now. "Nevermind, just ... ignore me. Please."

Caleb stopped in his tracks, and reached out to snag her upper arm, and hold her there, stopping her too. He kept her held, not going to let go. "Leija, I'm sorry." he said, wanting her to know that. He didn't add more, but...well. The shreds of his mood were sliding away really quickly as he started realizing that she was really actually upset here, and it was because of what he'd done. That wasn't good. So...yeah.

She had to stop up short when he grabbed her arm. It didn't hurt, per se, but she didn't like the feeling. He was strong for his size. Her gaze moved to his. "It's okay," she said, voice quiet. "It's over, don't worry about it. Just ... try to bear in mind sometimes that I'd care if something happened to you. ... and please let go."

He let go immediately, like he'd been burned, and he took full step back away from her, then another half step. It was more because he hadn't really thought about what he was doing before he'd done it, like he was far too apt to do, and it sank in abruptly that he'd sort of had her trapped there, and he was wondering now if he'd hurt her arm. He quite suddenly didn't know how tight he'd held on, and another step back was taken. "I'm sorry. I don't...sorry." he said. He could get into why it didn't occur to him. Let her know that it didn't, really. That wasn't anything he thought about, he just did things. He was used to a life where he could disappear and no one even noticed, let alone cared. His expression flickered, his eyes a mixture of confused and vulnerable for a moment there before he looked away.

And he'd been in a good mood, too. At least he hadn't turned his back this time. Leija just looked at him for a long moment, her own expression troubled. She wanted to go and hug him, but didn't know if that was welcome or not. So she took a couple of steps in his direction to sort of test the waters a little bit. "It's okay," she said again, more gently this time. "You didn't mean it. Come and walk me home?"

He internally twitched when she got closer, but managed to keep it from showing. Eyeing her for a long moment, he eventually nodded. "...alright." he said, then started walking again. He wondered if she'd forget about his shoulder now, or just gloss it over and pretend she hadn't said she was going to look at it. Probably for the best if she did. He sure as hell wasn't going to bring it back up. Caleb stayed quiet for what seemed like a long time as they walked. "I don't think about that shit." he said quietly. "I'm used to being able to just...do whatever the fuck I feel like, and no one gives a shit. Or would even notice."

Leija hadn't expected him to start talking about it again. Or really talk to her anymore at all. It was something of a pleasant surprise, in a weird kind of way. She kept her hands tucked into her hoodie pocket as they walked so she wouldn't take his hand or something equally as stupid. She glanced at him. "I know," she said just as quietly. She wasn't sure she could be much more helpful than that. "But now I give a shit. ... sorry I wrecked your good mood, though."

He gave a rueful little half smile. "It's okay." It wouldn't have been there for that long anyhow. "...just...I don't know. Give me a while, okay?" he asked. "I'm still getting used to it from my brothers, it's gonna be a while before I really...." he sighed and shrugged, dragging his fingers through his hair again. "Get it? I dunno. It's weird, it's like I know that there are a couple people around who might care, I just...it hasn't sank in yet. Or it's like I'm waiting for it to crash and burn, because really, why wouldn't it? You'd think if there were something worth it here, I might have...nevermind." He didn't like where that sentence ended, or where this entire line of conversation was going so he gave up there.

She was perfectly willing to give him a while if that's what he needed, and would've said so if he hadn't cut himself off that way. "You might have what?" she asked, looking at his profile. There was something important there, and they both seemed to have acquired an obsession with making each other talk.

Shooting a bit of a Look in her direction, he growled faintly. "You would think that it wouldn't have taken til I was fucking seventeen to find even one person who cared the slightest bit." he said. He was looking away again. Fabulous. Did he ever not want to be talking about this. It was all stupid.

Leija wondered if there hadn't been people, and he just didn't want to see them, or acknowledge that they cared. But she didn't know near enough to even suggest such a thing, so she kept it to herself. She didn't know what to say to that, since she definitely couldn't speak for everyone else in his life. So she just took one hand out to rub very lightly down his back. A single brush of comfort before she was tucking it away again. "People can be insufferably blind," she said quietly.

He felt it, though that was mostly because she brushed stitches. It had him watching her out of the corner of his eye again, however. "Maybe." he said. He wasn't exactly ready to sign up on that. Having thought about it for huge chunks of his life, he really didn't think that was the case when it came to him. And really, it was probably only going to be a matter of time before she'd figure it out. That he wasn't actually worth the trouble. Hell, he'd even upset her tonight...how many times? Three off the top of his head, and sure, they weren't all the same calibre, but that was a lot for one night.

It was better than a flat out denial, so she didn't push for anything more. Leija just walked, her eyes down on the sidewalk where her boots were about to be, until they were coming into territory that was getting closer to her neighborhood. This late, it felt like the entire town had emptied out. That everyone else was gone and it was just them left. She couldn't decide if that was a serene thought or not. Her steps started to slow as they approached her house. "Do you want me to clean your shoulder?" she asked, glancing over at him.

Fuck. he thought, and he sighed. "...if you want to you can." he told her. Which was sort of an answer. He sort of felt like he owed her. And at the same time, he had this morbid, horrible sort of curiosity about how she'd deal with seeing some of his scars. Since he didn't plan on losing his shirt or anything, but he had more than enough that she'd definitely see some.

Leija wanting to had an extra layer of worry that he wouldn't bother once he got home, and they'd been in a place where gods-knew-what could be lurking to set in and start an infection. So she nodded and led the way up the front porch steps to slip her key into the door. "His room's upstairs, but stay quiet 'til we get to the bathroom," she told him, voice low already.

Caleb hesitated, then finally nodded. He didn't say anything. Quiet? He could be. He was capable of being silent when he needed to be. Granted most of the time it was because of necessity. Because if he wasn't then bad things were going to happen. Either way, he obediently followed, keeping close.

She was very used to coming home in the dead of night, though she usually went back to her own window. Still. She knew they were pretty safe as long as they weren't too loud. She let them into the dark house and closed the door behind them. A short hallway later, she was flicking on the light in the downstairs bathroom and moving so he could come in too. Leija squinted, her eyes not happy with the 100 watt after so much dark.

Her eyes weren't the only ones protesting, he winced, and squinted for a second as he tried to get them to adjust, and then he leaned against the counter, watching her for instructions. Whatever it was she wanted him to do there, he wasn't sure, so yeah. Witness him behaving.

Because it was probably filthy, she pulled her hoodie off again. "Sit," she told him, nodding to the toilet, since he wasn't doing it himself. And Leija commenced washing her hands thoroughly and getting out the first aid box. She poked for a second at the bite-mark on her arm and figured it'd probably be gone by tomorrow.

Caleb sat down on the closed lid, and crossed his arms on the counter next to it, resting his chin on his arms as he watched her. "Would it help if I told you pain doesn't bother me?" he asked quietly, tone something resembling amused, even if it was a very faint undertone. He didn't think for the a second that it would, but he figured he'd put that in there.

"I'm happy for you, you're one of the lucky ones, then," she said, glancing up with an expression that might've been stern in another life. "That means I can use alcohol instead of peroxide. But I'm sure you can get infected just like the rest of us, so." She turned and leaned a hip against the counter for a second, debating on whether or not she should make him take his shirt off. That'd probably constitute a Bad Idea. So she just moved in behind him and tugged testingly on his collar to see how far it would stretch.

He let her, shifting slightly to make it easier for her, and thankfully it stretched far enough. It bit into his neck on the other side, but oh well. He waited, then glanced back over his shoulder at her. He knew she'd not be able to see a whole lot of his scars, but well. More than most people had. Enough of the road map that constituted his skin to get an idea. He didn't say anything, just watched. Paid strict attention to her features and most specifically her eyes.

She saw them, and suddenly the little seeping split in his skin -- which was already pretty clotted up -- wasn't anything. Leija pulled his shirt down to the bottom of the newest wound, eyes tracing over the varied pale scars that surrounded it. Hell, one even would've cut right across it if the skin wasn't split. She pressed her lips together and looked up at him. There wasn't any disgust anywhere on her face, more an unspoken sadness. After a beat she reached for the bottle of rubbing alcohol and the cotton pads she'd taken out.

It was interesting watching the flickers behind her eyes. Her expression, the way she pressed her lips together. He'd sort of expected some revulsion there, but then she did worse. Sadness. Pity, whatever. He'd seen enough, and he put his head back down, staring into the sink while she did whatever she wanted. What he'd been looking for, he had no idea. Why he'd bothered to see he didn't know either, it wasn't like he'd expected anything different. Maybe he was just that fucking mentally masochistic.

Leija had spent enough emotionally-charged time with him in the past three or four hours or however long it had been to feel the vibe he was giving off. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to have reacted, but obviously she'd done it wrong. But he'd obviously been looking for something. She didn't say anything as she cleaned the cut and the area around it, and stuck a couple of band aids over the parts that were still slow-bleeding. He sure as hell knew how to confuse a girl. Leija let him go and stepped back, not sure at all what she should be saying.

He tugged his shirt back into place, and rolled his shoulder a little, but not enough to mess up what she'd done. "Thank you." he said quietly. Not that he really felt like she'd done the right thing, it would scar, they all did, and it didn't matter in the slightest if he took care of them or not. But he recognized she was trying, and had been attempting to be nice to him. Caleb was still having trouble looking at her, and instead stood, trying to move past her without touching her.

This? Was a terrible note to end the evening on. Before she could think about it too hard, Leija moved and got in his way, backing up a pace or two so he wouldn't run right into her. Her eyes were on his face even if his weren't. "Caleb ... whatever I did, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ... offend. I just didn't expect ..." Him to look like he fell in a giant blender at some point in his life? That about covered it. She took a breath and crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't like people seeing mine either. Not that ... they compare. Ugh. Shutting up now." She squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

He sighed, and looked up at her. "It's fine. Don't worry about it, you didn't do anything wrong or anything." She hadn't, really. And he wasn't even sure what the hell was the matter with him right now. He could try to figure it out, but he so wasn't going to. Though she wasn't really alone on the not wanting to end the night there on a bad note. "I'm fine, we're fine...it's all good." That was his story and he was sticking to it.

It didn't sound fine. And 'fine' itself was a bad adjective anyway. People said that when things were distinctly not fine. But she didn't have the energy or inclination to argue with him. "Okay," she said. She stepped forward and rose up on her toes to hug him very lightly, prepared for twitchiness. "Thanks for coming out with me," she murmured.

Keeping his twitching to himself, he slid his arms around her and gave her a hug back. He drew in a breath, and recognized that she smelled good. She was kind of soft, and warm. Getting a hug from her wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to him, That was for sure. He turned his face in a little towards her hair, but stopped himself before he got too comfortable. "Any time." he answered. Yeah, even if things had been massively up and down, he still meant it.

"Next time maybe we'll keep the mindfuckery to a minimum," she said, a little smile playing with her lips. She gave him a gentle squeeze, carefully aware of where his cut was, and let go before she could kiss his cheek or something equally stupid and unwanted.

He stepped back, and quirked a little half smile at her. "Yeah, we can give that a shot." He agreed, stepping back. Then his smile got a little fuller. "But I doubt it'll happen. We'll just have to risk it." he added, shrugging his un-cut shoulder. His eyes ticked to the cross she was wearing, and he wondered if she'd continue to wear it, or if it would get tossed the second he was out the door. "Goodnight, Leija." he said, more to remind himself that he was leaving now, than anything else. He started up the hallway, keeping quiet, and planned to let himself out.

She smiled back, and felt better for it. Especially with the implied see-you-again in there. She nodded and moved out of his way without protest this time, leaning in the bathroom doorway to watch him go down the hall. "'Night, Caleb," she said softly after him. She thought maybe she had enough energy for a shower and to fall into bed, but that was about it.

He glanced back once before he left, then shut the door behind himself. He stood there for a second, collecting his thoughts, trying to make some sense of things, and in the end gave up, and headed for home. Yeah. Sleep would probably do him a whole world of good. If he could get his brain to shut up for long enough to get any. He'd give it a shot.