one way to get out of class

who: caleb and dean
where: art, then elsewhere
when: first period

Caleb was sitting in class, though he had paid absolutely zero attention to anything this morning. He'd paid no attention to almost anything since everything went quiet in his head last night. He was sitting in art class, staring at a blank page that he wasn't filling. Usually it wasn't hard for him to think of anything to draw, and of course, for the past few months, if he didn't have inspiration for anything else? He drew Leija by default. Right now, however, he didn't think any version of her he committed to paper would be very good. In fact, he knew the entire tone he usually drew her in would have altered. So...he didn't. He didn't need the reminder. He barely noticed when the bell rang, though vaguely noted Dean's absence. It was dim, however. Distant. The world was sort of coming to Caleb through a filter, like it was happening to someone else.

Dean had been hovering outside of school. He'd come in on time today, but he was purposefully being late for art class because he didn't wan tot have to justify to Janice why he wasn't going to sit with her and her friends. He knew she'd try, so, he waited for the bell to ring before walking through the door and muttering an apology at the teacher, heading quickly to sit at his usual place.

Janice did in fact call to him, and try to wave him over--which was what drew Caleb's eye. He glanced up, over at the girl, then at Dean. Oh yeah. The hideous disaster of a date. Or so he'd predicted. Maybe it hadn't been, if she was calling for him....or maybe considering Dean sat where he always did. "...morning." Caleb said. "Ignoring your girlfriend? Playing the strong, silent card?" he asked. He might have asked where Dean had been yesterday, but didn't.

Dean steadily ignored Janice, still in the determined mindset that he'd entered last night that something had to change and she was the first step in that. She'd been a mistake, a disaster, he'd been insane to even contemplate it, but he could admit when he was wrong and do something about it. But not in the middle of art class. "You were right, I was wrong, now I just have to get rid of her," Dean told him, speaking quietly as he got his things out of his bag and flipped open his pad, pulling out a few lose bits of paper where he'd torn the pages of figures out for Thia yesterday.

"...that was fast." Caleb said. He propped his head on his hand, and looked over at the girl in question, who was looking fantastically upset, and she was whispering wildly with her friends. One of which shot a nasty glare over in their general direction. He ticked his gaze back to Dean. "Think you pissed off the redhead." he informed his friend. He set his pencil down, not even going to pretend to draw right now.

"Yeah, well, I told you it might be a one off. And I tried to tell her that yesterday - which didn't go down too well. There were tears and... And then she tried to get me into bed to make it all better," Dean admitted. "But, it's stopping today," he said, determinedly. He just had to get round the tears first. He knew there'd be some, he'd been trying to be realistic about this and he was steeling himself against an emotional onslaught.

Caleb had two reactions that entirely conflicted. One was that hey, getting laid might not be so bad, and the second was Dean should run the fuck away as quickly as possible and never fall in for that shit ever, possibly including Lullaby as well, because females were fucking insane. The second sex entered into it in any fashion, they seemed to have a mental breakdown button that got hit. Hard. Or maybe you're just lucky, Lockwood. So, while normally he might have had a comment there, instead he just kind of gave a half shrug. "...good luck with that." he said. Yeah, Caleb still wasn't doing so well with the connecting in thing.

"...Thanks," Dean said, frowning a little. "You okay mate?" he asked, slowly. He'd kind of thought that would get more of a reaction than that - maybe it was just i his head that the whole situation was screwed. Possibly girls throwing themselves at you after a single date was actually normal behaviour and he was just doing it wrong.

Caleb shrugged again. "Depends on one's definition." he said. He glanced at the girls again, because it was easier to dodge than communicate, and he was fabulous at that most of the time. "...you're probably going to need that luck. I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't march over here and plop her ass down or something."

Dean considered this, looking over and then looking quickly back around again as he caught her eye. "Put your book away," he said, quietly, closing his pad and slipping it into his bag.

Caleb did so, looking mildly confused, but only that. He shoved his notepad into his backpack, then sort of...waited to see what the fuck Dean was doing.

Usually Dean went with power cuts to get out of class. They were blunt and easy and worked for a lesson or two. But he figured that it'd just get him accosted by Janice and what he wanted was to talk to Caleb where they weren't going to be overheard, so something slightly more complicated was needed, though he wasn't entirely sure that it'd work. "Sorry, you're going to get wet," he apologised as he concentrated and tripped the system that controlled the fire alarms and sprinkler system, setting off both. The shower of water started instantly, to shouts and screams around the room as students started to make a run for it even before the teacher asked them to calmly make their way outside.

Caleb blinked, then suddenly--he was wet. Huh. Well that was a neat trick. He didn't actually rush shit, he just sat there for a moment, getting rained on indoors, before he grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and stood up, looking at Dean. Everyone else was already filing outside quickly, and there was the annoyance of screeching girls fleeing. "Interesting." he told his friend, sounding the slightest bit impressed, as he waited for Dean to sort of lead the way or whatever.

The screech of the fleeing girls bit into Dean's skull like nails down a blackboard and he knew that that had been a really bad idea. He'd not had a migraine for for weeks, but he could feel one building now. He gave it an hour, maybe two. Fuck, he thought, dropping his head for a moment, then picking up his bag and standing up. He didn't need a migraine right now - he never needed a migraine. He'd prefer a nosebleed, or just to feel sick. At least they didn't get in the way of actual thought. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said, feeling the water run down the back of his neck. Yeah, definitely not one of his better ideas, but hey! It had gotten rid of Janice.

Caleb didn't especially give a shit about the water, and followed Dean. They got outside, where at least it was less wet, though it was cold. That made Caleb shiver. Fuck, it was starting to become fall. He was from the south, he didn't deal well with this shit. But oh well. He also didn't actually stop walking, or say, go line up with other students. Whatever, if he was soaked, he was going elsewhere. It wasn't like he had a lot he wanted to do today. And it was possible he was going to avoid as well. He let silence sort of keep going, figuring Dean would break it eventually.

Dean showed no inclination to go and line up with the other students either - he wouldn't have gotten them out of class and soaked them in the process just to go play sheep, after all. Instead he steered them towards the gym, to where the alarms weren't sounding and the sprinklers were still off, letting them in a side door. They'd be out of the cold here.

It was a blessed relief as the door closed behind them, muting somewhat the cry of the alarms and the shouts of the other students which had been hammering at Dean's head. The migraine was holding off for now, but he knew that he'd be checking out whether there was anywhere he could go lie down in a bit. Quiet and dark would be good. "So, what's your definition?" he asked, once they were properly alone.

It took Caleb a second to catch up with what Dean said. Which really, was a testament to how not quite here he was. He was usually a little quicker than that. So, after a brief flicker of a frown, his expression cleared and he leaned back against the wall, dropping his backpack and he reached up to get his hair out of his eyes, noting yet again he needed to get it cut, it had started to curl again. "Not sure. It important for some reason?" he asked. "You flip the fire alarm just to ask that, or you got something else on your mind?"

"Various reasons," Dean admitted - not least that it stopped Janice coming over to hassle him. "That, Janice, some other stuff. And you didn't answer the question," Dean pointed out, taking off his jacket and giving it a shake, sending water everywhere. he threw it over a bench and slicked his hair back out of his eyes.

"I don't know. Probably not." Caleb answered. "What's the other stuff?" he asked. He might have given a slightly better explanation to Dean about what was going on with him but he didn't think he had one. He didn't really know how to explain, and he definitely didn't know how to explain without telling Dean what he was, and respectively, what Leija was. So...yeah. Beyond that, he just...it was there but it wasn't. He still was in quiet-brain mode where everything felt like it was happening to someone else.

Dean knew avoidance when he heard it, but he didn't really feel he knew Caleb well enough to push hard for an answer. Thia would never have gotten away with it, but Caleb - that was different. "Okay, mostly Janice," he admitted. "She's a nightmare - she came to my house yesterday when I didn't show up at class. Thia had to hide in the closet and.. Oh, talking of which, I got these," he said, pulling out a large, thickly packed brown envelope. "This is the 'other things' really. Thia's information, plus a wish list of things she'd like if they could be achieved. And also - okay. My cousin's boyfriend's best friend's girlfriend, who's a ghost, got resurrected the other week. And so she needs an identity as well. If you can manage it, there's her information in there as well. A cash enough to cover them both," he added. He'd been a little nervous about wandering round with that much cash, which had added in to why he'd wanted to speak to Caleb privately as soon as possible today.

Caleb arched a brow and took the items, before he shrugged and shoved them down in his backpack beneath everything else. "Do I even want to know why women keep getting resurrected around you?" he asked absently. Then he slid down the wall, and leaned his head back against it. "So she was stalking you after one date? ...you know you're not helping my current opinion on females." he commented. Then he paused. "That why you didn't get yourself laid?"

"I'm the second coming, obviously," Dean deadpanned, taking a seat on the bench. "Normally, I wouldn't call one visit 'stalking'? But in this situation, yeah, she was. And I didn't get myself laid because I'd just finished trying to tell her that there wasn't going to be a second date and she'd just finished crying on me til I backed off. That, together with that fact that Thia was in the closet? Doesn't make me particularly horny. What's wrong with your current opinion of women?" Dean asked him.

"If she shows up at your house because you weren't in class, I'd call that stalking." Caleb said. Then he paused. "...and you just described a porn there. Can't say if it would be a good porn, but..." he shrugged. His inflection was off, normally there would have been a note of humor in there but it was lacking. "Nothing's wrong with the opinion. It's just not very good. They're all fucking insane. To make a gross understatement."

"No, if it was a porn, I would have been in a threesome and... yeah, anyway, really not happening. I'm having a hard enough time getting rid of her as is - I don't need for her to have the 'sex' hold over me. And Thia would never have forgiven me." He paused and slouched down a little, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely together. "She told me she loved me last night," he said, his tone unreadable.

Caleb had opened his mouth to say something about how that's what he'd been talking about with the porn thing, but then stopped, due to Dean's other statement. He shut his mouth again, milled that over as he kept his eyes on his friend. "What did you do?" he asked. It was weird. He would think that Dean would be overjoyed with that kind of news. Or, maybe it was the crush thing, only soured. Like he only really wanted what he couldn't have so if Lullaby told him she loved him, that made her unappealing or something. he didn't know. Right now he didn't pretend to know shit about relationships.

Dean shrugged. "Wished she meant it like that?" he suggested, picking at a hangnail. Which was a better answer, he thought, than 'totally fucking freaked and nearly ruined everything. Again.'

Oh. That put a touch more perspective on it. "So she was pulling that bullshit girl friend-love thing on you?" Caleb asked. Then internally wondered if he shouldn't have worded that better. Another day, he probably would have. Right now? He realized he could have but didn't take it back or try to reword it, he let it ride.

There was another shrug. "Yeah, something like that," Dean agreed, though without a huge amount of enthusiasm. The 'bullshit' part didn't sit right with him. Nothing she did classed as bullshit in his mind. "So, yeah - kinda threw me. I mean, what do you say to that anyway? And then she gave me this whole thing about how I didn't have to say anything back and that she thought I already knew and - why do girls have to put labels on things? What's wrong with... If you know something and you know someone else knows something, why do you have to say it? Can't it just be known?" he asked, realising he was rather rambling there and ignoring his own habit of labeling things - that worked both ways. Labels were useful when it was important that some things were defined. Like defining Thia constantly with the 'best friend' label to keep those lines in place. But other things? For the sake of those lines it was just as important that they were never actually properly acknowledged and labeled.

"I don't know, you could have always told her you loved her too." Caleb remarked. Seemed logical to him. "I mean...you do, don't you? You act like it. It's pretty obvious, I think." Dean's behavior said it, really. Though, Caleb was a little cynical on matters of the heart today though thankfully didn't express that he wasn't sure love actually existed. Maybe it did for humans, and he just wasn't human enough. That was possible. "Did you know? What'd you do to deserve that? Or did she just...randomly come out with dropping the L word into conversation?"

"No," Dean said, firmly. "No, I couldn't have told her I loved her." He made no commentary on whether it would have been the truth or not. He just couldn't have told her that - he was sure of that much. "She was having a bad evening - we have lots of those. But she'd just got confirmation that she was definitely murdered. So, we were talking and I... I guess I said exactly the right thing. And she just - she lit up and hugged me and just... Told me that she loved me," Dean related with a soft little smile appearing on his face.

Caleb watched the smile, and probably would have rolled his eyes some other day. "You've got it worse than anyone I've ever seen." he said in an offhand manner. "And apparently she loves you. Could be worse." he suggested. She could be dead, for one. She could be psychotic. She could practically hump your leg and pant until you get her off, then call herself a whore the next morning and cry a lot. Or she could fool around with you, admit she gets off on the idea of you murdering someone, suck your dick, then cry and go insane and make no sense whatsoever. So it could be worse. It could be a whole shit fucking ton worse. But hey at least he had that filter going today and it meant he couldn't be bothered to share that.

"So, I like the girl - she's nice. And not insane, so your theory's flawed," Dean pointed out, brushing Caleb's observation off. "What makes you think they all are anyhow? This to do with the bird over the summer?" he asked, again forgetting her name. He was so bloody shit with names it wasn't funny.

"Yeah. You like her and she's nice." Caleb repeated, and for the first time, there was the slightest bit of actual inflection, though it was just that. Slight. It was a touch of sarcasm, of course. Then it was gone again. "You don't get that smile whenever you've got her on the brain or anything." he added. Then he paused. "Her. Leija. Either I pick fucked up, insane women just by sheer bad luck, or they are one and all fucked in the head." he shared his observation. Could have been talking about the weather for as much as he put behind it, but it was said.

"Well then, you have shitty luck, because Thia's not one of them - either that or she's the only sane one around," Dean told him. "Though, if you're collecting, I recommend Janice - apparently we have a 'connection'. I got that whole 'we were meant to be together' ten minutes into the date." Which made him want to start looking for little bits of glitter again. He'd found some more in the shower this morning and the damn things were really migrating. It was embarrassing as hell, he was just glad he didn't have gym class coming up any time soon.

"...think I might just avoid any lasting connection with the pshychotic sex from here out." Caleb said. He would say that Dean should be careful, just in case Lullaby was just as insane as everyone else, and that as far as Caleb could tell, most of the insanity started after sex, but he didn't, for two reasons. First, his mood, second, he remembered the last time he'd even remotely said something Dean didn't like hearing about Lullaby, and he'd been threatened with being hit. He wasn't positive Dean wouldn't do it, actually. Especially with the whole having a thing for the girl to truly stupid degrees.

"You and me both," Dean told him, chuckling slightly, though he meant it differently to Caleb, he was sure. Dean had just decided that he wasn't going to push things. No deciding he needed a girlfriend and going and picking up the first girl who was available. If he met someone then if something happened, it happened - if he wanted it to. If it didn't, then he'd be single. Keeping things simple was his new plan.

"...I still think you're stupid." Caleb offered, sighing a touch and leaning his head back against the wall. "She even told you she loves you. You know it can't be that far a stretch for her to have a thing for you. If she's already that much about you that there's love involved..." It was a sound theory, he thought. Maybe. Or he was full of shit, that was equally as likely.

Dean shook his head. "She split up with her last boyfriend because she wasn't in the right place for a relationship. She just can't cope with that kind of thing right now - she told me as much and I'm not going to push anything on her when I know... She needs a friend, someone to be there for her. She doesn't need more things to have to think her way through, there's enough there already. Plus, she doesn't have a thing for me. I don't think she's ever though of me in that way. Not once, not even for a moment," he added.

"I don't know, seems to me there's a whole host of amazing, insane bullshit that fills up a female's mind." Caleb said. "So who knows. I never thought Leija would ever look at me like that either. I was really, really wrong there. Shocked the hell out of me when she told me otherwise." Of course, really? That's when everything went to hell. So maybe you should just sit in your safe little corner of friendship and pretend you're neutered. Ignore me, going for it might just fuck you up worse. It was another bit he wasn't saying, due to the Thia-Factor.

"Well," Dean said, leaning back and bringing a leg up to tuck in against his chest, resting his heel on the bench as he rested his chin on his knee. "You might not know, but I do. You can trust me on this one. Thia doesn't look at me that way and I'm not going to be trying to change her mind on that any time soon," Dean told him - which was actually a subtle change of stance since last week, not that Dean had really actively thought of it like that. As far as he was concerned, it was just that his friend was still a no-go area - another point on his new 'let's just keep it simple' tack.

Well, one thing that wasn't hampered during this conversation was Caleb's observational skills. "Not any time soon?" he asked. "That mean you'd go for it later?" he asked. Right now, he should be curious. Really he should. He knew it, he could feel it, he just...couldn't drum it up. Or at least, he couldn't drum up enough of it to put it into his voice. Didn't mean he didn't ask.

Dean opened his mouth to answer. "I..." He paused, thinking about that. "I don't know," he admitted, after a moment. Would he? "Tell you what, let's just not go there, okay?" he suggested. "Let's just stay in the present and there the answer is 'no, we're just going to be friends'." There, that was sensible - getting his hopes up for the future wasn't. Whether he intended something or not wasn't important, what was important was not running himself ragged with trying to keep those lines in place. If he didn't think of the future, he wouldn't fantasise about it, if he didn't fantasise, he'd have a better time staying in reality. And reality was where he had to be.

Huh. Well, that was at least a better answer than Dean had usually given before. Or not. Maybe he was just setting himself up to be manipulated and dicked around by the not-dead girl. Who the fuck knew what happened to her head when she'd died. "Your call." Caleb said in the end. "Good luck with that. And the harpy." He almost suggested they take the cash for the id's, take off someplace city-like, and find a couple of nice, one-shot girls to take their minds off of their troubles, but didn't.

Dean chuckled a little. "Yeah, I'll need it - you got any tips for dealing with crying girls? Basically I'm finding that I'm dire at it. Really crap - I just get this overwhelming urge to make them just... Stop. And every time I try and approach the subject of breaking up, Janice just... It's like a tap. She can turn them on and off at will. So, I've got to get past that," he explained, dropping his leg back to the floor and leaning forward once again.

There was a slight show of something for Caleb--a wince. Crying girls. Wasn't that just his problem too? Only he didn't have the urge to stop them crying. Not anymore. Before? Yes. Now, he saw it so differently. He saw it as just some tool they were using against him, either that or it was just weakness. Unattractive, soul sucking weakness. "Remind yourself that they aren't fucking toddlers and if they can't go through a day without sobbing than they're either faking it or so pathetic they deserve what's coming to them?" he suggested, voice still dead sounding, even if the words probably should have been dripping with cynicism.

Dean looked a little surprised, then smiled slightly. "Okay, you know? I'll bear that in mind," he agreed, thinking that that level of 'this isn't on' was probably want he needed to be aiming for if he wasn't going to completely cave. "Look - seriously though, what's up? You seem kind of off today," Dean observed, because there was only so long he could let that shit drift and his friend really wasn't with it as far as Dean was concerned.

Caleb didn't answer for a long moment. He considered, wondering what to say. Part of him just had the urge to flat out tell him. Which was likely not good, on major, major levels. And yet he couldn't be bothered to give a shit, either. He was fucked, this was just being slightly more fucked, right? In the end, he gave a non-answer. "...you probably really don't want to know." he said.

Dean considered that. "Is that I don't want to know, or you don't want to tell me?" he asked, since that really made a difference.

He considered, thinking it a valid question. "I think you wouldn't want to know." he decided. Which it should be the other way around, he knew. But it wasn't. Not today. Any other day of his life, it would be but yeah. Whatever.

"I've dealt with a lot of shit recently," Dean said, after a pause. "Stuff that most people don't have to deal with. I'm thinking that what I can and can't cope with knowing has been pretty fucking heavily redefined because of that," he added, his tone almost conversational. "So, if it's something you want to talk about? Apparently I'm a pretty good listener."

Silence followed that for a bit. Caleb considered. And he considered some more, in that really awful, detached sort of manner, that really didn't at all help his situation. In the end, he started talking. "Ever feel hope die?" he asked. "Where...you have this one thing to hold onto, and that's more or less it, and when you weren't expecting it, it's gone?"

"I'm not sure," Dean admitted. "I guess, at times, I've felt ready to give it up. Hope - just... You think that maybe things will go one way and then something happens and you know that you have to choose the other path and it won't be a nice place down there." He paused, going back to worrying at the hangnail. "And I've had times when there didn't feel like there was any hope in the first place, so i guess it must have died at some point, but I couldn't have told you when," he shrugged.

"I don't recommend it." Caleb said. "...so far it hasn't been pleasant." Of course, it hadn't been unpleasant either. It had been nothing. Which was really the problem, here. At least if it was bad, he could be pissed about it all. "I thought I had something. Thought she was it. Thought she'd be the one to-" save "-help me. Turns out I was wrong on that. Again. And in a pretty massively fucked up way."

Dean pursed his lips a little. "Leija?" he asked, reaching up to push his now-drying hair back off his face again as it started to flop forward in messy strands. "Maybe you shouldn't be relying on one person for that kind of thing?" he suggested, carefully, realising that he didn't really know what Caleb was talking about, but making an educated guess at the fact it'd have something to do with his time in the psych ward.

"If I thought I could do it on my own, I would." Caleb said. Flat, but honest. "If I thought there was anyone else who could help, I'd go for it. I don't have a whole lot of people, though, if you haven't noticed. And this..." he trailed off for a moment, simply staring at a middle distance, voice still unreadable. "I can't do it on my own. And I already know I've slipped. Pretty far, really. It's just not going to even out." He realized in some distant way he was being cryptic, but Dean had asked, so he was talking. He hadn't been asked to make sense.

"What about your brothers?" Dean asked him, tilting his head to the side a little. "When I was back home, I was in a pretty bad way. Slipping - like you said. Dark place, all on my own. It's been better, since I've been here," he admitted. "I wasn't too chuffed at mum and dad sending me out here, but it was the right thing for them to do. I've been doing better - with people around who get things and who can be there. Sophie and Oz have been great and..." And there was Thia, but he paused before saying that, reluctant somehow right now.

"And you've got Lullaby." Caleb filled in the blank. Or he added it in, considering she'd been missed out on the list. "My brothers..." he paused. "They're just as fucked up as I am. They probably wouldn't see that much of an issue with things. When I came here things were better for a while. Then they weren't. I had a lot of friends, then most of them fucked off or went crazy then fucked off. Things were bad." he paused. "Obviously, I told you where I was. Things felt better again, and now it's different levels of fucked. And everything just changed."

"Is there anything I can do?" Dean offered. Because he would help if he could - it was just who he was, apparently. He'd never thought about it that much before he got here. hell, he'd even denied being that kind of person once or twice. Back home, he'd just never been in that situation where he was really needed, not like he was here and it seemed that he just worked with that kind of thing. It felt wrong not to.

Considering some of this came into sharper focus for me because we were discussing committing murder for you, probably not. Caleb thought. But he didn't say. Because Dean was...Dean. He was sensitive. "I don't really think there's anything anyone can do. But thanks." he said.

"You sure, mate?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow, wanting to double check that. Maybe there was nothing he could do, but Dean hated to feel helpless in anything - he'd much prefer to be actively doing something than standing on the sidelines watching everything go to shit.

Caleb was quiet for a minute, then nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure." You can't change what I am, or where my nature is taking me. You can't be my saving grace. That was supposed to be my angel, but she...I don't think she's who I thought she was. On any counts.

Dean thought about this. "If there's nothing anyone can do to help you, maybe... Maybe it's not fair to put it all on her to hope that she'd be able to do that," he suggested, carefully. "To put her up on a pedestal in the hope she can achieve the impossible - nobody can live up to that kind of pressure. You doom her to failure before you start. Not exactly the best grounds for a relationship," he pointed out. Like he actually knew how a relationship was meant to go. he'd been on one date and now was just trying to do what he could to get rid of the girl. That and he had a migraine very definitely forming in the back of his head. Soon, he knew, those little spots would be dancing in his vision.

And, purely a testament to how mid-breakdown Caleb really was, he answered back. In that same calm, flat manner, but it was very clearly something he shouldn't have said. "When you can't depend on an angel to pull you back from the dark, when she actively encourages it. Feeds it, gets off on it...you're fucked." he said. "All I needed was for her to keep me from slipping too far." Cryptic again. He barely noticed.

Dean didn't cotton on to what he'd just been told, assuming that 'angel' was just some kind of pet name or something, because what caught his attention was the latter part of the sentence. "She encourages you?" Dean asked him. knowing what it was like to be in a darkly downward spiral and then trying to imagine what it would have been like to have someone encourage your descent. "Why?" he asked, stupidly, before he realised he'd already been told that - she got off on it. Well, wasn't that, insane? He shook his head a little, fighting off the headache that was forming in the base of his skull. He just needed to hold on a little longer. The alarms had stopped now, at least. "So, let me get this straight," he said. "She encourages you to go to a place she knows you don't want to be. Because she gets off on what she finds there?" he asked. "That's..."

"...it's there whether or not I want to be there. It's always there. It's always going to be there. I think it's what attracted her in the first place. Or that was a huge part of it." Caleb explained, eyes only now actually ticking back towards Dean, mostly at the movement of the head shake. "I thought before that she was drawn to the damage in me. I just didn't know quite how deep that ran." He did now.

"People keep telling me that what you're capable of isn't necessarily what you have to be," Dean said catching and holding Caleb's gaze. "Just because you know something's inside you, doesn't mean that that's all there is, if you don't like it."

"...I know what you're saying." he said. Since he'd said the same thing to Dean. His case just happened to be different. "It's not the same with me, though." he said. "And I'm not saying that to be dramatic." Which would have been interesting, considering the utter lack of emotion in his tone. "I'm saying that because it's true. It's part of what I am." he said. "I have enough trouble holding myself back from the places my mind goes, I don't--" he paused to try and figure out wording better. "I'm wondering if that's what I really meant to her. If really, it was just that. Some...damaged dark thing to push, just to see if she could, because she gets off on it. I tried to kill myself...what. A month ago? It's not like I've ever been that far from the edge." And yet, she was only seeming to think about herself. What everything meant to her, and he was supposed to just...he didn't even really know.

"Then why are you with her? If she's pushing you places that you don't want to go? If she's encouraging you? You said you wanted her to hold you back from the precipice, but the more you talk about it, the less it sounds like she's just failing to do that and the more you're saying that not only is she not holding you back, but she's pushing you over the edge." And there was a substantial difference in Dean's head. Nobody was perfect and he'd not liked the idea that his friend was putting the girl under undue pressure to do the impossible, but his story was changing now, becoming something different. Lack was one thing, active action was something else. "If she's bringing out a side of you you don't like - even if it's something that's there already - that's not good, mate. You know that, right? And if she's doing it to turn you into something she wants you to be? It's selfish at best and manipulative and quite frankly disgusting at worst."

"I didn't know any of this until last night." Caleb said. "Then it was pretty clear. When she was talking about how she got off on the idea of me murdering someone for her." he said. And he knew she'd backtracked later, but in the moment there...that's what he trusted. Especially since she continued with things. It got brought up, and she kept going. Not only after she'd gotten off herself, but she'd taken the time to make sure he'd found his release too. So how did that even work? He just...didn't know what to think anymore.

Dean opened his mouth, but there were no words as he took in the level of 'dark' they were talking about. "Mate.... that's seriously baulked. Like, epicly fucked up," he said, eventually. He tried to imagine himself in that position - something that wasn't as hard as it possibly should have been, considering the past week or so. Tried to imagine if Thia had been egging him on rather than firmly holding him back. Would he have done it? For her, without a moment's thought. But, where it would have taken him... He was capable of it, but he knew he'd never be the same again. He knew also that Caleb had been a lot calmer about it, had said that he'd be able to do it and live with himself afterwards, but still. "Did you tell her about our discussion?" he asked, hoping he wasn't sounding accusatory there.

"No." Caleb answered. "That was between you and I." It had stayed there, really. People didn't need to know what had happened there, or what might have been discussed. It wasn't their business. It wasn't Leija's business. "And I know. The epic fucked up part. There's a reason I'm...off." He knew he was. In such major ways.

"So... How'd you get onto the subject of murder?" Dean asked, because although he knew it wasn't really the point, there was just no way he could not ask.

This was the part where Caleb knew things got tricky. There had been a reason he'd started on the edges of the shit storm, not dove right in to the heart of the matter. "We were talking about me. My darker nature. She keeps--she keeps trying to justify it. Turn it into something it's not. She keeps making excuses for me, when there aren't any. She told me when we were talking about darkness...everything like that, and I was...distracting her...she told me that she liked the idea of me bleeding to defend her, that I would kill for her."

"Okay, just... Which was she talking about? I mean, kill in defense, or kill-murder-kill?" Dean asked meeting up with one of his defined lines again. In his head, there was a difference, an important difference. And he was treading carefully, flip-flopping back and forth between opinions on things, making the snap judgments he always made.

"Justifiable homicide." Caleb said, since he'd gotten the clarification. "But she said that it would 'depend who it was'. I don't know. I think it's all twisted up in her head as some...testament to how much I care about her. But the more I think about Leija, the more I realize that that's always what she's worried about. Her. I don't think she'd stop to think for a second what it would mean for me. If I actually did that. She just thinks it's...hot. I guess."

"Some kind of twisted, warped romaticisation of some white knight coming to rescue her and fight the dragon off or something?" Dean suggested, his mind flickering to conversations of Disney Princesses. "You know, fairy tales have a hell of a lot to answer for." He shrugged. "Maybe it's all wrapped up in her justification of you? You say you have a darker nature, she's trying to turn it round into something good. So she makes herself a damsel in distress and anything dark you do, you're doing because of her, which makes it (a) allowable, because you're being a hero. And (b) hot because you're being all testosterone-filled action guy. Or something."

"Maybe." Caleb said. "Does it matter? It's still not giving a shit what that would do to me in the end. It's still her feeding into the whole mess. And all just to make herself into some fucked up weak princess that can be rescued? Is that what I boil down to? A facet in her fantasy?"

"Well, we were both calling her selfish," Dean pointed out, bluntly, feeling his tact start to ebb away, driven back by the oncoming migraine. He shuffled back on the bench a little and brought both knees up this time, folding himself up into a ball, arms wrapped around his legs as he resisted the urge to hide his eyes against his knees.

Caleb didn't seem to notice bluntness going on. Or he just didn't care. "Yeah. I think she is." he said. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do. She used to be so good for me. Then...everything went to hell." Which was an understatement. "She's acting like Jamie." he added absently.

Jamie! - That was the name of the Other Girl. The one he couldn't remember, who was lined to that other guy who was friends with Leija's ex. Isaac - the guy who was friends with Thia. Had been friends with Thia. Isaac who he was meant to be going to talk to. God, everyone was interconnected and his head was really starting to pound now. "That's not good," he said, his mental capacity starting to shut down.

"No. It's not." Caleb said. Of course, that was all he said. He could elaborate, but all that would be happening was he would be repeating himself. So he opted not to. Instead, he fell quiet, and thought about going home. He had what...fourteen grand or something in his backpack. Might be the best idea.

Dean knew that the lights in the room weren't actually getting brighter, but it sure as hell felt like it as he gave up and pressed his face against his knees, closing his eyes and trying to cut out the light all together as the migraine hit full force. He wasn't going to leave, not while his friend might need him, but actual commentary and conversation went out of the window for a minute while he fought the pain.

Caleb eyed Dean. "You okay?" he asked. He didn't sound concerned, but then, this entire conversation he'd sounded no more interested than if they'd spoken about the weather, up to and including when he was talking about hope dying, and being lost. So it was all a matter of perspective.

"Headache," Dean muttered, his voice sounding overly loud in his ears. His head was pounding now - he'd known that tripping the alarm ad sprinklers would backlash, it had been bound to. It was more complex than just blowing a fuse, he'd not even been sure that it would work. But god his head hurt right now.

"...so go lay down. There's a nurse's office...somewhere." he said. "Near the office, maybe." Fucked if he knew, he didn't have the full layout of school down. He knew where his classes were. He knew where the gym was, and the nearest exits. His locker. That was about it. He pushed up to his feet, and grabbed his backpack up, shrugging it over one shoulder. "I'm taking off, anyways. Good luck with Janice." Caleb already started walking towards the exit.

Part of Dean was hurt at that, that his friend seemed to care so damn little that he'd just walk off like that when he was obviously suffering, but most of him was given over to just wanting the world to go the fuck away and leave him alone, curled up in a small bundle of pain and suffering as the migraine hit full force. He didn't even say goodbye as Caleb walked off. He'd go find the nurse's office in a minute. Maybe it'd pass a little, yet he knew that was wishful thinking. But still, he'd give it a few minutes and then he'd go.