A Little Behind ((Calix Kiril))

Nights were getting easier since Jack had begun spending some over.  For some reason, Elijah just slept better in his boyfriend's arms...even when they older boy wasn't there it was easier to sleep.  It kind of made sense...the small boy had a feeling from early on that it may be some help, but he hadn't anticipated just how much of a help it would actually be.  Nights where the boy was able to cuddle up with the son of Venus were nights where he actually got at least a good eight hours of sleep...which was basically unheard of for Elijah.  In fact, the boy was relatively certain he had never gotten that much sleep in a night in his entire life.  Even as a child.  Things were changing, and for once, Elijah was feeling okay about going with the change.  Because it was all good.  The boy wasn't sure if he could come out of the past week or so not being good with all the change.  A boyfriend who loved him, who would hold him to sleep...things couldn't get too much better at this point.  Well, things could get better, but with how things were right now, the boy didn't want to jinx it.  Calix was getting out more, even though Elijah had yet to see him.  Lúth would be back soon...her crystal was pounding harder than ever against the small boy's chest, and all the signs were showing.  In the son of Discordia's opinion, anyway.  Things were just starting to connect...in some ways, the boy didn't want to expect anymore out of fear that his precariously balanced sanity might be lost.  But things were feeling better and better.  Elijah didn't want to lose that.  So it was probably best to stay grateful for what he had...but keep praying that everything else would work out.  The entire thing was teetering more and more, and the boy had to keep taking short breaks to breathe and ground himself.  Not over-ask for anything.  Not get greedy.  That didn't stop Elijah from worrying, though.  About Calix.  About his sister.  About whatever he and Jack had...the fear that it would shatter at any moment.

It was another morning where Jack had convinced Elijah to turn off his alarm and skip his morning run and training session.  That had been happening more and more than Elijah wanted, but the older boy was too convincing.  Well, more like the small boy just couldn't say no.  Between kisses.  Such bad Venus power abuse!  But the boy was sort of okay with it all.  Sort of...sleeping in was nice, especially in Jack's arms, but everytime he skipped his morning routine, Elijah felt like he was getting out of shape and fatter.  Not running and training three or four times a week obviously wouldn't result in that, but the boy was overly self-conscious oftentimes.  Despite his inhumanly fast metabolism, being a vegan, and the fact that he had never been even one pound over one-hundred in his life, the boy feared that the moment would find him in a heartbeat.  That morning, Elijah had kicked Jack out with enough time to at least get in a short run, which was saying something with how high the temperature had already gotten at that point in the morning.  A quick bite to eat and cold shower later, the boy was pulling on his combat boots, slightly upset that he was running so late to open the Principia doors for the day.  Even with everything that had been going on the past few months, Elijah had been quite proud of himself for opening the Principia doors on time every morning...a little early, usually.  But this morning he was all sorts of running late.  "Jack, you are in so much trouble," the boy mumbled, pulling off his left boot because it felt a little funny.  No wonder...the sock he was wearing was almost definitely Jack's and not his.  "So much trouble..." he repeated, grabbing a sock that actually belonged to him from his drawer, figuring he could fix the mismatch later.

Hopping to get his boot back on, Elijah grabbed his canvas messenger bag, shoving a few books in and slinging it over his shoulder before slamming his door shut behind him, putting his foot down, and hurrying as fast as he could down the long hall to the Main Room.  Tripping a few times over his undone shoelaces, the boy finally stumbled into the Main Room, bending over to loop the laces quickly.  Oblivious to anything or anyone, Elijah grabbed his keys from his bag, taking some quick hops to the door and shoving his key in, locking the door.  Breathing a sigh of relief, the boy went to pull the door open, frowning as it didn't before remembering he had just locked it.  Which was odd, because he definitely remembered locking up last night...so unless someone had stolen the keys, or...turning around, Elijah's eyes narrowed in on the figure sitting calmly at the long table in the center of the room.  A second later, the boy's jaw dropped.  Because it wasn't some random camper trying to get on Praetor Emmanual's nerves by breaking into the Principia.  It was Calix.  It was Calix!  Sitting in his usual seat and sorting through paperwork.  The son of Discordia wasn't sure what to do for a long moment.  Because Calix was actually sitting in his seat at the long table in the Main Room of the Principia.  Not sleeping the day away, not wandering camp aimlessly to reorientate himself.  Here.  Being a Praetor, doing Praetor work.  For the first time in...Gods know how long.

In some ways, all Elijah really wanted to do was run over and hug Calix and just spill everything about the past few months.  The older boy was one of Elijah's best friends, and basically a brother to him.  Between romance issues and friend stuff and life and everything, Elijah needed to have a good, thorough talk with his fellow Praetor.  But at the same time, there was an undeniable surge of anger...one that the small boy had been keeping completely under control for months.  With a deep breath, the boy started stomping over to the table, his combat boots making a heavy 'clomp' noise with each step.  Walking to the other side of the table, the boy pulled out his chair, looking down at it for a moment.  He had been able to keep his anger at bay this whole time.  The resurgence just had to be from seeing Calix up and working again...it would quiet down shortly.  Looking at his friend and taking a deep breath, the small boy tried to think of what he could say.  Express how glad he was to see the older boy back here.  Something snappy and witty, but understanding at the same time.  As he stared longer at Calix, though, Elijah felt himself losing control.  A slight twitching chaos that was getting harder and harder to ignore.  And before he could really do anything to stop himself, the boy was slapping Calix slightly brutally across the cheek.  The wrapped and healing burn on his chest hurt for a moment with the intensity of the slap, but seeing Calix and the chair he was sitting on go down kind of made it all worth it.  For a few moments, Elijah took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down.  Looking down at his friend, the boy finally felt better.  "It's good to see you back," he finally said calmly.  "I've missed you."

Paperwork seemed to be the only thing that hadn’t changed for Calix. The papers on his desk didn’t give him odd looks whenever he passed by or greeted him in stutters whenever he made eye contact. They just sat there, waiting to be looked over and evaluated like any other day. Like nothing had changed, like nothing had happened, like Calix hadn’t folded into himself for three months. So for those hours where Calix got to settle in his chair and sift through the mountain of manila folders and such, he himself nearly forgot about his betrayal. Until he had thoughts like that. Calix liked to drown in his work .He liked to have his thoughts be overrun with words, numbers, and protocol. He liked to read the happenings in the Legion instead of going out there and experiencing it for himself (to avoid the aforementioned looks). Calix knew that some of what he read might not even be close to what was happening. When a Legionnaire wrote that he had a very uneventful day at the gate, Calix could go out there and see the guards with a deck of playing cards, betting on a brand new golden dagger that the armory report  said was taken by a really ‘responsible’ Legionnaire who looked as if he had good intentions for the weapon. Calix didn’t mind these small breaches all too much. At least the guards knew to get on their feet if they spotted a potential danger and the Armory cited the weapon as gone instead of still present. Calix now had a better understanding as to why teenagers didn’t put in too much effort to do the work they are told until someone physically tells them to do so. Because life was short. And life had to be lived. No use in putting on a serious face and pacing a wall that had a two percent chance of being attacked. But taking one’s chances in a little game of chance to perhaps win something worthwhile… it made a little more sense. Not that Calix would throw away a perfect opportunity to learn the proper way to walk the wall or something similar, but he understood better. He became slower to anger.

Calix sat at the edge of his bed, thinking all of these thoughts as he dressed for the day. He planned to spend all of it sitting at his desk and catching up on the paperwork he had neglected for that long. And once he was done, take some of Elijah’s and keep on working. Until he fell asleep there. Right on the desk. He knew no rest, and he didn’t want to. He deserved to be buried alive by paper. In fact, he deserved a lot worse. And the next day he would do it again. And again. And again. Until his partner had been relieved of the same amount of work that Calix went without.  Maybe a little more as interest. Calix put his arms through the sleeves of his purple Camp Jupiter T-shirt and pulled it down. He had his armor sitting across his room on the chair of another desk that he barely used. Calix wore the armor to formal Legion business such as muster and picking up reports and whatnot and just when wandering around the camp to inform people of his presence and because it was how his father and his father before him, all the way back to the beginning of the Kiril’s claim to the Praetor seat, ran the Legion. Of course with the new generations being a tad more lax each and every time, Calix and Elijah would be able to get away with no more than what the common Legionnaire would be wearing. What Calix currently donned now. The shirt and jeans. Maybe with a breastplate over but nothing more. And Calix didn’t even see the point of wearing that today. He stood and put on his shoes, exiting his room, Amroth following obediently behind him. For a cat, the creature spent a lot of the time being active and awake. Calix could have sworn that the feline spent more time moving around in those three months than he had. On instinct, the Praetor walked to the doors of the Principia with his keys in hand and unlocked the doors. He always tried to do this as early as possible just in the case someone decided to attack the Legion when the majority of its soldiers were still crawling out of bed and the guards on duty wanted desperately to take their place.

Calix swung the key ring around his finger out of force of habit and made his way back to the long table in the middle of the room. He settled down in his seat, pulling it close to the table so he wouldn’t be tempted to stand up and get some air or something similar. Amroth walked under the table and curled up around Calix’s legs, purring contently. He hesitated grabbing the first folder to look down and raise an eyebrow at the creature, but his eyes were already closed, ready to settle down for a nice long nap. Calix only remembered one other time when he had been jealous of an animal… a memory he didn’t quite want to bring up again. So just like that, the Praetor began his work for the day. Like a machine he went through paper after paper, writing little comments here and there and signing off on each report before going on to the next. Doing paperwork was almost like riding a bike. You never truly forgot how to do it even though you stopped for a long time. Calix found himself falling back into the same rhythm, forgetting everything around him. He didn’t see anything but the papers in front of him, felt nothing but the pen in his hand (and the occasional brushing of fur when Amroth decided to shift around for a more comfortable sleeping position). He worked like a machine for gods know how long until a foreign sound hit his ears and made him break his concentration. His hand hesitated the tiniest bit, letting a minuscule drop of ink fall and soak through the paper. Calix sighed, not all too pleased but not angry either. He needed to learn how to disregard background noise. But it wasn’t just the noise that distracted him but more of the fact that he hadn’t heard that particular noise in a long time. The noise of another door opening. Another door not his. Calix slowly placed his pen down and looked up. A ghost. A phantom of a certain son of Discordia drifting toward the door. Well not drifting. Not with those combat boots. He held his breath as he turned his own key in the door, locking it instead of unlocking it. Calix looked down at his papers. Elijah will just think of it as a little mistake and carry on with his day. He wouldn’t even see Calix. Because the Praetor was sure he hadn’t glanced in that direction for a very long time…

So Calix lowered his head and returned his attention to the papers in front of him, beginning to write once more. He didn’t know why he refrained from calling out Elijah’s name and letting his friend know his plan for the day… and the subsequent days. Fear was the first reason that passed his mind. And the main one. Fear as to what Elijah may think when he saw Calix there. Working like nothing had changed. Calix wanted their work environment to stay the way it had before he left. He didn’t know how he would react if Elijah brought up his absence or, even worse, the reason behind it. Calix would be quiet for sure, fold into himself for a little bit, try with all his might not to retreat back in his room. He knew what he did was inexcusable, leaving his friend who had suffered the same loss to do work for both of them. Making him work while he was supposed to be grieving. Just the thought of it again made Calix falter in his writing. But he didn’t glance up. He’d make it up to Elijah. Once his friend returned from whatever he was going out to do, Calix would explain everything. That gave him a little more time to think about what to say. That thought bringing a little comfort to the Praetor, he settled down to work once more, not even noticing the smaller boy making his way toward him. That is, until his small shadow overtook him. Calix looked up into eyes he couldn’t quite decipher. Was that anger? Or relief? He didn’t get a chance to ask because, the next thing that he knew he could only feel a sting and see black spots inching their way in his vision. And in the next second he felt his body leaving his chair and going airborne for maybe a second and a half. Then a small pain in his shoulder when he made contact with the ground again. He’d slapped him! Elijah slapped him! Not without reason, and the first thought that went through his mind was that he deserved it, but he slapped him! So hard he fell out of his chair! Calix groaned, blinking the spots from his eyes and saw Elijah standing over him, greeting him in a way that assured him everything would be back to normal soon. He smiled weakly and made a move to sit up. That’s when Amroth decided to come out of hiding and settle on his stomach. Calix sighed and held himself up by his elbows instead. “Ah. Thanks. I've missed you too."

Seeing Calix pulling such a Calix move as to keep quiet like he had gave Elijah hope.  Hope that his friend and brother and fellow Praetor was getting back to normal.  Lúth may not have been back yet, but the Legacy of Bellona was functioning again.  Again...things were really looking up.  And although the small boy realized that slapping Calix wasn't the nicest move, he didn't doubt that the older boy would claim it wasn't deserved.  Another typical Calix move, though Elijah would admit that he probably didn't have to deliver such a harsh hit.  If he was asked.  And it was definitely better than breaking his friend's jaw again.  That was definitely something the boy didn't plan on repeating (unless necessary, of course).  But slapping some sense into Calix was definitely a whole other story.  For hiding in his room for three months.  Not being there when Elijah really, really needed him.  Leaving his partner with mountains of paperwork and daily camp issues (though that one wasn't as big a deal, since the son of Discordia would always rather taking it all on himself rather than disturb his friend's grieving process).  But Calix was back now!  Currently on the floor with a cat curling up with a stomach (Lúth's cat, Elijah realized with a sharp pain), but the boy knew he couldn't dwell on the fact that Calix was on the floor.  Mainly because Elijah had sent him there with his slap.  For one of the first times since Elijah had come into his volatile side, he felt plenty satisfied with a simple move like that.  Because it wasn't about hurting or breaking someone.  It was just...well, it was what it was.  Just smacking some sense into Calix for all this time.  It felt good, and the small boy didn't feel the need to go any further.  Besides, the older boy looked pathetic enough with Amroth curled on his stomach and shakily propping himself on his elbows.  Staring at Calix for another moment, Elijah wasn't entirely sure what to think or say.  There was just so much!  And if he wasn't careful, he would start talking and not know when to stop.

Finally, Elijah held out his hand to his friend.  "You missed me?" the boy frowned slightly.  He hadn't really thought of Calix's half as much as he should have.  The small boy had figured most of it was sleeping through grief, anyway.  The idea that Elijah had even passed through Calix's head the past few months was a bit of a surprise.  The boy didn't think he would be there at all.  But here Calix was, saying that he had missed Elijah.  Smiling slightly, the boy shook his head.  "You missed me...and people think I'm the crazy one!" he laughed, unable to help himself.  Though it was nice to hear that he had been missed.  A relief, even, that although Calix had mostly shut down, he had still spent some time thinking about other stuff.  Withdrawing his hand, Elijah decided instead to settle down next to his friend on the floor.  Sitting cross legged beside the older boy, the son of Discordia looked straight forward absently.  Where to begin, where to begin?  He wanted to tell his friend everything.  Gods, there was so much...where did they leave off?  What had Calix gotten just from being next door to Elijah with the thin Principia walls.  The small boy had written a few notes to Calix...so he probably got some things from that.  Tac's short stay, Elijah and Jack getting together...the boy couldn't even remember what he had written in the notes.  Overall, though, the older boy was here...out and about and going about things as normal.

Looking back over at Calix, Elijah frowned thoughtfully before gently smacking the back of Calix's head.  "Why didn't you come to me?  I left you notes and worried, and I..." the boy trailed off, unsure of what all was appropriate to say.  He didn't want to make any mentions about how much work he had been putting into keeping the Legion running on his own.  The issues that had arisen, new Legionnaires who definitely had problems with Elijah due to his very nature, the "professional" type things that Elijah figured they could get to in time.  "I worried a lot," he finally repeated.  "But there was just so much to deal with.  I learned that I'd be a terrible babysitter because I let an eight year old call his own shots.  And I have a boyfriend now...Jack Wheelan, I know I mentioned that in a note, but still...it's all different now because I love him and he loves me!  That was all super complicated, though...I'll tell you the whole story later.  Venus sort of threatened me because she claimed someone who had some issues with me from the get go.  That wasn't fun, but she's also been shrinking my clothing, which is really annoying.  River hasn't been too happy with me because I'm dating Jack and she really doesn't approve, but I'm hoping that gets better soon..." Elijah didn't realize how much he had to say to Calix.  How much he really had missed the older boy being there.  Listening.  All of it.  The older boy was back.

"And you may want to hold off on paperwork for a bit," Elijah said, a slight edge of guilt in his voice.  "I kind of started a new system.  And it's really confusing if you just stumble into it," the boy wasn't sure he should go into detail about the half a dozen or so extraordinarily Latin detailed labels he had been filing papers under lately.  It helped the boy's OCD, but he was fine with going back to the old system...chances were Calix wouldn't find it nearly as helpful.  "But we can worry about that later.  You shouldn't be doing paperwork until your brain is better," Elijah scolded, hoping that Calix didn't point out that Elijah that the younger boy always did paperwork with however his brain was.  A child of Discordia probably shouldn't have been in such a position of power, but at this point, the boy had figured he had proved his chops.  And then Elijah frowned slightly as he realized he had been rambling on about himself.  "And I've been completely selfish," he said softly.  "How are you doing?  I know not everything is back to normal...but you're here.  And I'm glad...so what's going on with you?"

The sharp sting in Calix’s cheek had now settled to a dull throbbing though the pain in his shoulder still felt pretty fresh. Calix made sure not to show the discomfort in his face that doubled when he propped himself up on his elbows. He didn’t want to show pain because a red cheek and a bruised shoulder didn’t compare to what Calix probably put Elijah through. He thought it to be an insult if he showed any hint of difficulty. He looked up at Elijah’s face, wondering if the younger boy would go further with expressing his frustration. Calix imagined a kick coming from those boots, and he automatically felt something in his ribs. While he deserved everything that Elijah did or would dish out, that didn’t mean he couldn’t dislike it. He waited patiently for Elijah to say something or do something. He barely breathed in this time, saving it when he was no doubt wheezing and trying to catch his breath. He wondered if Elijah wanted him to say something. An apology which he had been writing in his mind from the second he didn’t find the energy to leave the room. But for some reason, in the face of his fellow Praetor, Calix’s mind went blank. Every apology. Every excuse. Every reason left him. Because he knew he couldn’t make excuses, couldn’t use reasoning. Because an apology wouldn’t be enough. Calix’s heart sank, and he wished Elijah would kick him in the ribs and kick him hard. But instead, Elijah reached down a hand to help him up.

Calix blinked for a few seconds, looking down at Elijah’s hand then back at his face. How could he be trying to help him? After all Calix had done? After Calix never lifted a finger to help him, the son of Discordia thought it fit to assist him? Calix opened his mouth, about to ask the motive behind his kind-heartedness. Maybe to punch him. Get Calix back up so he thought that a slap was all Elijah wanted to dole out only to have his jaw broken again. Something Calix definitely wouldn’t enjoy but, once again, wouldn’t object to either. And the hand that Elijah offered him had to be accepted by the hand with the hurting shoulder. Another pain. Another penance. Calix steeled himself to take the hand, reasoning with himself that, with the punch coming his way, the feeling of his shoulder being snapped when Elijah pulled him up wouldn’t be that bad. Then Elijah spoke once more, frowning, repeating his words as if he didn’t believe them. And that, in its way, injured Calix a bit more than the slap and shoulder did. During a time when all Calix’s thoughts centered around misery and trying to find a reason to leave his room, Elijah constantly crossed his mind as the main reason he should.  To help Elijah because he was going through the same thing too. And the thought made Calix walk to his door and reach out his hand, but, he never touched the knob. And it collected dust. Calix feared that, instead of grieving together, Elijah would blame him. Scream in his face and accuse him. Why didn’t he stop her from leaving? Why didn’t he try harder to protect her? Why hadn’t he woke him? It didn’t occur to him at that point that confining himself to his room made for more accusation and possibly more hate. But then Elijah laughed. And Calix’s heart lifted a little more. He didn’t mock him with the laugh and actually joined him on the floor. Calix tried to sit up a little better and looked at his friend who kept his eyes in front of him. Calix waited, back at the dilemma of to speak or not to speak.

Elijah looked at him again just as Calix was building up the nerve to say something and hit him upside the head. Calix cringed but the blow didn’t hurt nearly as much as everything else. But once again, Elijah’s words made up for that. The Legacy of Bellona turned away as he trailed off. He remembered those notes. When they came, something close to a hint of a smile came over him but, at the same time, they dealt pretty serious blows. He hated himself for worrying Elijah like that, an emotion he never thought he’d feel. He was never in the wrong. Except always. He wanted to make up for everything but knew it would take a long time for him to make up even half of the work. He remembered in one of the notes a threat to drag him out of bed. A threat he never went through with… because Elijah knew Calix had to grieve. Calix actually missed Elijah’s blather and found them falling into a familiar routine, the younger boy catching him up on the dealings in his life while Calix sat there thinking about how to respond to that with a tale of how he’d almost sorted a paper into the wrong folder and try to make it sound as interesting as his stories. But by the sound of it, he didn’t even have that story to tell anymore. Calix nodded and even smiled a little through Elijah’s summary of the last three months, the smiles surfacing when he talked about Jack Wheelan. Calix had a little ‘I told you so’ stored away but wouldn’t use it just yet. And not that he would because, the next thing he knew, Elijah was blaming himself. Calling himself selfish, and it took all of his willpower not to interrupt right then. So when the younger boy finally asked him (casual to the point of pain) what’s been going on with him, Calix jumped right into it.

He looked Elijah straight in the eye. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said quietly. “We both know if anyone’s been selfish it’s me. Well. I’ve locked myself in my room, leaving you to run the Legion completely alone with no support. I’ve left you to terribly babysit an eight year old alone, to deal with a relationship and too much responsibility at the same time alone, to face Venus and your shrinking clothes alone, and just…” he stopped, not being able to remember the last time he’d spoke that much, his voice grower a bit louder with each piece of evidence to his betrayal. He looked down and wet his lips before continuing again. “You’ve been doing paperwork no matter what. Even though we suffered the same loss. You pushed through. And I hid. I cried for days and you were strong. I’m sorry for abandoning you like that. For betraying you like that. I know I can’t make excuses, and I'm not going to, but I just want you to know how sorry I am. I’ve been weak and selfish and a horrible partner and friend…  And now I’m talking too much.” The Praetor laughed dryly and ran a hand through his hair. Amroth had awoken at the sound of Calix’s voice and had crawled out of the boy’s lap into the other Praetor’s for hopes of a more peaceful slumber. “I don’t know what else to do but apologize. And even if I apologize for days on end it wouldn’t be enough. I’m sorry, Elijah. I really am. I really, truly am. I’m selfish and horrible and despicable and…” he gulped. “It’ll never be enough. I’ve failed you and the Legion… for my own selfish reasons. And I’m so sorry.” Calix’s voice broke at the end of this, and he turned away knowing what would come next. He raised a hand to brush at his eyes in what he hoped was a casual way. How humiliating. Tears in the first few minutes of seeing Elijah again. Calix made a move to stand, not wanting his friend (were they still friends?) to see him like that. “Please,” he croaked. “Forgive me.” He said this as a way of excusing himself, but it extended much further than that. He needed Elijah’s forgiveness before he could go on with himself. Elijah was the one person he was sure who hadn’t given up on him in these months. If he had… Calix wouldn’t know what to do…

At this point, Elijah really just wanted things to go back to normal.  Well, as normal as things got around there.  The past three months had been nightmarish and stunningly beautiful and everything in between.  There were good days and bad days...everything just was what it was.  The small boy had quietly grieved losing his sister, using his grief to fuel him and get lost in his Praetor duties.  It didn't seem fair that the two people running the legion were the two people struck hardest by Lúth's kidnapping, but fair wasn't always an option.  And although there had been many times when Elijah was ready to follow Calix's lead and sleep away the pain, he knew that someone had to keep things going.  The two boys had gone to opposite sides of the spectrum with how they dealt with their loss...it was a pretty good example of the flight/fight idea.  Calix had run and hid himself away from the world.  Elijah had pushed forward and fought.  Neither was right, neither was wrong...it was just how they reacted.  But really, the small boy didn't want Calix to feel guilty about it.  He shouldn't, as far as Elijah was concerned.  It was just how he coped.  Yes, the son of Discordia was upset that his friend and fellow Praetor hadn't come to him...but more because he was worried that the older boy was grieving alone, which just wasn't helpful.  If Calix had come to talk, come to sit in Elijah's room (or Elijah in Calix's room), the legacy of Bellona might have been able to push through better.  Surely he knew he wasn't grieving alone, but if the two boys had just spent time together grieving...really, the boy wasn't sure what to think about all that.  He had spent months worrying about Calix...nightmares that he woke up screaming from while Calix slept on.  Not wanting to bother the older boy...not doing anything.  Maybe Elijah had been wrong to let Calix be...he could have done more for his friend...instead of letting him sleep.  Dragged him out of bed like he had threatened in a note.  Though in reality, he knew that wouldn't have helped.

Calix was talking nonsense...as though he was the one in fault.  "Don't," Elijah said sternly.  But he let Calix continue talking.  Partially because he had never heard the older boy talk this much before, but more because he knew Calix needed it.  For someone who rarely communicated with words, the boy was doing a good job blaming himself for everything.  Which made Elijah want to slap him again...maybe a little harder this time.  It wasn't even that Calix was playing the martyr...he seriously felt this way, which upset the smaller boy.  He didn't want to see his friend feeling this way, so he needed to make it clear that he really was okay with it.  Everyone had their own way of coping, and sleeping day after day was much less destructive than other things.  And despite all the challenges that had arisen, Elijah had dealt well enough...he knew that it was only a matter of time before Calix was ready to face the world.  Both Praetors were hit hard...Elijah had lost his sister, Calix had lost his soulmate.  But at least one of them had to keep going.  And it just happened to be Elijah.  It didn't matter in some ways...the stars had just aligned that way.  And everything the boy had learned and done the past few months...all on his own.  Running the Legion and still having time to himself.  For him and Jack.  For him and River.  To pray for Lúth to come back and Calix to resurface.  Time had never worked properly for Elijah, so he kicked it hard to make it bend to him.  It had really worked.  And there was something in the air...even Calix being back.  Even though he was ranting and apologizing and making it difficult for the small boy not to break his jaw again.  At least that way the older boy wouldn't be able to talk and the son of Discordia could give him a piece of his own mind.

"Calix, you need to stop beating yourself up," Elijah finally said softly when his friend stopped talking.  "Stop apologizing and asking for forgiveness.  You didn't cope in a healthy way, I won't deny you that, but you did what you needed to do to survive," unsure of where exactly he was heading, Elijah paused.  Calix had thrown a lot at him, and the small boy wanted to assuage his guilt.  "You don't need to apologize.  I don't want you to apologize.  Everyone copes differently...and just because I coped differently doesn't mean I was fine the whole time.  I cried a lot...I had nightmares...there were times I was ready to follow your lead and curl up in bed..." Gods...this wasn't coming out right.  At least not the way Elijah heard himself talking.  "Lots of the time, I was keeping up a façade...and lots of the time it was close to crumbling," the boy's voice was getting softer, more pensive.  He hadn't really talked about this stuff to anyone.  Not to River, not to Jack...because Calix was the only one who could understand it all.  And Elijah wanted to make sure his fellow Praetor stopped feeling guilty...that he understood that the son of Discordia had come very close to breaking point many times.  "I know I said this in one of my notes, but I nearly broke, too.  I got lucky...my miracles came just in time."

Looking over at his friend, Elijah smiled slightly.  "If Tac hadn't come along and Jack and I hadn't gotten together..." his seventeenth birthday...the day everything turned around.  "I was so close," the boy mumbled.  So close to diving off the deep end...but he knew he didn't need to say that...Calix would get it.  Looking at the older boy, an intense look in his bright blue eyes, Elijah frowned thoughtfully.  Did Calix realize that, despite the steep workload he had left his partner with, the past few months had been just as much beautiful as ugly?  "So many wonderful things have happened to me the past few months," Elijah spoke, barely above a whisper.  "I wish you had been there to share it all with me..." the boy admitted, looking down at the floor.  "But you're back now...and that's what matters the most...stop feeling guilty...and stop asking me for forgiveness.  As much as I missed you, I knew that this was how it needs to be.  You need to ask yourself for forgiveness...it's a much needed weight off your shoulders," Elijah looked back to Calix, smiling again.  He was pretty sure he was making sense right now...not going off in some half-English, half-Latin rant.  Hopefully, he was speaking in a language that Calix understood.

‘Calix, you need to stop beating yourself up.’ The boy stopped mid-rise. The idea sounded so foreign to him. Ever since he’d seen message written in blood on his door, he did nothing but beat and blame himself. The feelings got worse as that night continued and reached its pinnacle when he saw her there. The sensation was like a high that Calix couldn’t get down from. He tried to desperately, but when he thought he was making progress, Calix fell back into the pit (or rose into that cloud) with a great sense of guilt overtaking him. He shouldn’t stop beating himself up because he deserved it. Every single mental punch and every single tear that stained his pillow. The only way Calix thought to clear all those thoughts from his mind was gaining the forgiveness from the people he’d hurt by his actions. He knew that he didn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy after what he didn’t do compared to Elijah. The way he coped as the other boy explained it as. He did know that locking himself in his room and suffering alone and drowning in all of those emotions weren’t good for one’s mental health, but he couldn’t help himself. Calix didn’t know why. It definitely didn’t make him feel any better. One reason had been passing through Calix’s mind rather frequently that he always used. And it made sense. Maybe being in pain would somehow cancel out causing pain. It was quite a stretch, and it’s all that Calix had. It’s the only way he was ‘helping’: using his pain to stop more from being inflicted.

It seemed to work the complete opposite. Hearing what Elijah had to go through along with leading the Legion, Calix somehow felt even worse. He lost all energy to walk to his room and sat down once again, ready to apologize profusely as many times as it took. He looked down at his lap, at his hands which had done nothing over the months but cover his face when he cried. Like Elijah did. Everything that Elijah described to him, Calix also experienced. The crying, the nightmares, even the façade (but Calix guessed that Elijah put up the act to fool people around him while he did it to be able to look himself in the mirror). The difference in the way they coped, even if it seemed a bit insignificant, tore a rift between the two friends. One only bridged by food and the occasional letter. Sleeping. Well, in Calix’s case, sleeping and not getting up. Words that Elijah used such as ‘close ‘and ‘nearly’ reminded Calix of that rift. Even now it felt as though he stood on his side of it but teetered on the edge and wondered if he could make the jump. While he was under house arrest, Calix constantly thought about Elijah and what kept him from ‘diving off the deep end’ as he’d heard people mutter behind his back; what made his side of the gorge bearable. The Praetor got his answer in one word: miracles.

Calix looked up when uttered the word and caught Elijah’s eye in time to see him smile. By the gods how good it felt to see his friend smile again. Calix knew nothing about this Tac that the other boy spoke of, but the name Jack triggered many memories. Memories of Elijah throwing breakables all around the room and of him giving Calix the stink eye when he found out he’d been paired with Jack for the Valentine’s Day dance. Both of those memories shared Elijah’s negative emotion toward the son of Venus. Feelings that Calix guessed would change. He’d been right. The Legacy bit the inside of his cheek to keep the ‘I told you so’ in for just a little longer. Elijah’s smile turned back into a frown, and Calix’s heart stopped. This was it. His ejection from the office. How, while Elijah was happy to have Calix back, what he’d done was inexcusable, and the Legion needed a Praetor who could handle simple things such as lovers dying in their arms. He’d be disappointed to, but he’d understand. It’s something that Calix wanted to happen even though his Praetorship was the only thing he had left. But, oddly enough, what Elijah said instead shocked him more. How wonderful things happened to him over the months that had been a living hell for him. Wonderful.

Another wave of guilt hit Calix when Elijah said that he wished Calix was there to experience everything with him. ‘I’m sorry,’ he thought, knowing the other boy probably didn’t want him to say it out loud. Calix took a deep breath and tried to smile, even though he tore his gaze away. Once again his friend told Calix to do the impossible. Quit asking for forgiveness. And even worse: ask himself for forgiveness. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t be able to. Everything came back, the voices that ate at him at night, telling him how, while he’d betrayed his Legion it was for nothing. Because the reason he’d turned his back on duty died shortly after. Calix clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. It took all of his power not to run further into the darker corners of his mind again or run back into his room and hibernate for another three months. Calix wasn’t ready to forgive himself. He just… he couldn’t do it. But he nodded anyway as if to say ‘I’ll try’. He looked down at his hands once more, wondering what to say.  He shook his head after a little bit and raised his head. “How do you do it?” He asked. “I could use a miracle or two right now…” Calix already experienced something in his dreams, when he’d woken for the first time not in a cold sweat. But did that count? Wanting to get off of the subject of what a horrible human being he was, he decided to change the subject. “So…. Jack Wheelan, huh?” He tried to keep a smirk from his face.

Somewhere in his mind, Elijah knew that this probably wasn't the best idea for Calix.  There was a lot being thrown at the older boy, that Elijah was throwing at him.  The small boy was trying to go easy on his friend...the past few months hadn't been easy for either of them.  Sometimes the boy got angry at his fellow Praetor.  They had both suffered a loss that no one should suffer through.  It had been different for the two, though.  Sometimes Elijah had wanted to go into Calix's room and scream about how selfish he was being.  How unacceptable his behavior was.  To grab the older boy and drag him out of bed.  Smack some sense into him.  But any of that would just be wrong.  Because, as how Elijah's behavior had been his way of surviving, Calix's behavior had been his own.  And the survival bit was more important than anything.  At the end of the day, if the Legacy of Bellona had to wait it out in the privacy of his room, the small boy wasn't going to endanger things anymore.  Maybe he was being an enabler by letting Calix get away with that...bringing him food...everything that had happened the past few months...Elijah got more scared of what could have happened if he had forced his friend to resurface before he was ready.  And really, the son of Discordia hated the idea of forcing change through violence when it came to Calix.  The older boy put up with more than enough of him to begin with, not to mention a broken jaw on his own part...Elijah really wasn't okay with doing that to someone he was as close with as Calix.  Things had been different when all that had happened...the two Praetors had a really good friendship at this point.  They were beyond close friends, they were practically brothers.  An odd sort of mix between best friends and brothers.  There had to be a word for that.  Either way, at this point, violence was as far from the correct answer as possible.

When Calix nodded mutely in response to Elijah's comment about forgiving himself, the dark haired boy rolled his eyes.  "You actually have to do it, Calix," he said softly.  "You owe it to yourself.  You owe it to Lúth," in a way, Elijah was sort of hoping to rile Calix up a bit.  To get his mind out of the deep pit of self-pity it was wallowing in.  Really, the boy wasn't sure how to get his point across properly.  "Reluctantly rejoining the world or not, you've made the decision to do so.  That means no more feeling sorry for yourself.  You can't sit around indulging your what if's.  Be here," maybe a little harsh, but Elijah wasn't going to coddle his friend into a continuing depression.  The boy was all about blatant honesty and tough love anyway.  Maybe he had been a bit of an enabler while Calix had been in hiding, but he wouldn't continue with that one.  And now that his friend was out in the world again, there was no way the small boy was going to let him slip away again.  Whatever it took.  Glancing over to the older boy, Elijah wasn't sure how to keep going.  No matter how harsh he was being, the son of Discordia was unbelievably relieved and happy to see his fellow Praetor out and about.  A wonderful past couple of months...but long.  Running everything on his own while juggling everything else.  A social life, discovering what a romantic relationship was all about...dark times, light times, laughing, crying.  There was an odd sort of shift seeing the older boy back...a feeling that everything was going to be okay now.

How do you do it?  A simple question with a not so simple answer.  An answer that Elijah wasn't even entirely sure he had.  "I don't know how I do it," he finally said softly.  "There are days where I don't think it's possible.  But then I remember that people need me.  And more importantly...people love me," looking down somberly, Elijah really did feel stuck.  He needed to make sure Calix knew he was needed and wanted and loved and all that, but how to get that across properly?  They had to get onto a more normal subject.  An everyday topic that could be tossed around more easily than the heavy subjects with heavy implications.  But at this point, the younger boy had no idea what was too much and what was too little.  There was so much he was bursting to say and not a word to put to any of it.  Elijah had always been pretty decent when it came to verbal communication.  A challenge he and Jack had faced was their differing communication styles...Jack was more of a physical communicator.  The pain of the burn below his collarbone always seemed to flare slightly when he started thinking in those terms, even though the boy was aware that was more psychological than anything.  Communication in general had been hard for Elijah...especially in emotionally driven moments like this.  The son of Discordia had never been one to suppress his emotions.  With how chaotic and emotional he got, bottling anything got dangerous.  Sure, there had been times that the boy kept a neutral face...going through school in the mortal world, but he always blew up eventually.  It was all part of the precarious balance of his Goddess mother, even if he hadn't known that for most of his life.

But whether Calix felt the need for a subject shift or not, he brought it about.  When the older boy asked about Jack, clearly hiding a smirk, Elijah felt a slight flush rise to his cheeks.  Calix had been one of the people who had been calling it all along...for whatever reasons.  Maybe he spent enough time around Elijah to have experienced the change of emotions.  The small boy had tried pretty hard to hide his feelings for his boyfriend as they had been changing, but long days in the Principia probably made the Legacy of Bellona more aware of Elijah's constantly changing moods than anyone else.  Except maybe River, though the small boy had done a good job hiding all that from his best friend.  Though the boy suspected that was partially River not wanting to see or think about it.  Calix had seen the damage, too...helping Elijah clean up the broken glass from the boy throwing anything breakable in his room he could get his hands on.  Watching smugly as the son of Discordia had seen his and Jack's names together on the Valentine's Day dance couple list.  "Yes," Elijah finally said sharply, trying to keep calm.  As much as he was grateful the subject had taken this turn, it was also a tricky one.  The small boy had spent a fair share of the past three months feeling guilty that he had found love as Calix had lost his.  "Jack Wheelan.  I told you so or any variations on such may or may not result in a broken jaw.  But more likely may..." the issue was that Elijah knew the smile on his face betrayed anything he might say.  "Be kind," he chuckled slightly.  "We just needed to move on our own timeline."

Calix couldn’t fool Elijah no matter how hard he tried. For starters, the Legacy of Bellona didn’t know the first thing about lying which his friend could sniff out night or day, verbal and (evidently) through his gestures. But at least he tried to make it convincing on other occasions. At the moment, Calix’s mind still ran a mile a minute trying to find a place to settle and trying to form coherent thoughts past the cycle of pity he’d been putting himself through for the past few months. At least that’s the excuse he made up. Not like that mattered. Even if he attempted, Calix knew for a fact that Elijah wouldn’t be blinded for a second. Calix’s mind sneered. Kind of typical that his first thought not related to blaming himself would be making an excuse.  But another part of him felt relieved because it was a practice very common to pre-submerged Calix. Very slowly, at a snail’s pace, he was recovering. For a second Calix thought he was making progress. Yes, he knew he had to do it. And he wanted to do it soon… but that plan automatically fell to pieces when Elijah spoke her name. Calix froze but hopefully in a very subtle way. The name sounded so foreign thrown to the air like that. Calix spent the months not speaking the name and trying to think about it as sparingly as he could. The small building block of recovery that Calix so delicately placed had been knocked down rather unceremoniously with that one name, and he wanted nothing more than to retreat into his room once again. Maybe coming out was a mistake but no. What Elijah said next hit him as hard as anything else did.

’Be Here’. It seemed simple enough, but the Praetor knew that things usually sounded easier than they actually were. He found staying there and talking to his friend difficult in itself. Everything Elijah said only brought back things that Calix tried so hard over the past few months to forget. He knew he couldn’t go around Camp Jupiter as if he’d been there the entire time. He knew that the Legion noticed his absence. He heard the whispering. He’d more than likely ruined his reputation. But that was the last thing Calix worried about. He’d betrayed the Legion but dwelling on the fact or thinking on the ‘what ifs’ as Elijah put it, wouldn’t change that. Calix had to do the difficult thing and stand in that spotlight. A bit ironic considering that the Praetor always wanted to be recognized in some form or fashion. Yes, Calix wanted to help. He wanted to take the load from Elijah’s shoulders and place it all on him for a little bit while his friend recovered. That unfortunately meant the official rejoining of the world and a bigger attempt at trying to forgive himself. He looked squarely at Elijah and nodded with what he hoped to be a greater resolve.  Calix didn’t know exactly if he’d succeed. But he’d try. Honestly. “I’ll do my best,” he said, hoping that that would be sufficient to convince Elijah… and his own mind.

The mind that cringed at what Elijah said next.  The thought that people loved him. The thought that people needed him. That’s what kept him going during the three months. It made Calix think about how he survived. Those two thoughts were definitely near the back of his mind. He shifted. Evidently, Elijah did fine without him. He knew that the position of Praetor had to be held by two people just to make sure that not one person would be overwhelmed with paperwork. Elijah learned how to adjust… without needing him. Calix shifted again. No, Elijah needed him. And the Legion needed both of its leaders… even the one who didn’t lead them at all. Calix tried his hardest to keep those thoughts at bay and convince himself of his importance. Once again a feat easier said than done when all he’d done in the past months was beat himself up and put himself down for not being good enough or deserving of the position Fortuna bestowed on him. Calix shook his head. At least people… Calix cringed again. He couldn’t exactly say that people loved him now after what he did. For some reason, the common belief that ‘family would always love you’ passed through Calix’s mind and made him think of the stack of unopened letters in his room from his family. The Praetor feared to open them. He knew what they would say. His father demanding to know what had happened and with each letter that went unanswered, his demands growing more harsh, the criticism of his son more stern. And the one person who truly loved him… Calix cursed. No matter what he did or how hard he tried… his mind always returned to that one thought. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

But speaking of love, it took a lot to keep a smile from Calix’s face when Elijah turned back to the topic of Jack. Calix knew the tone of voice that his partner used when he validated Calix’s words. It served as a small warning for the older boy not to go too far in his teasing or it’d result in a few broken bones. Evidently his jaw being the first of them. Calix knew how that felt but, for some reason, didn’t take the other boy’s threat too seriously. It must have been the look in his eyes or the smile on his face. Or the combination of the two. So the Praetor didn’t keep his joy for his friend under wraps. The façade of violence that Elijah put on faded entirely when he chuckled, and Calix (who’d tensed the tiniest bit just in case) relaxed fully and nodded in understanding. Calix remembered the almost rollercoaster qualities Elijah and Jack’s love story had and was happy that they worked it out in their own timeline as Elijah said. Partly because he was trying to get his mind off of other things and partly because he was genuinely interested, Calix said: “Tell me about it.”


((I *really* hope this is okay =.=))