Caleb Meyer Leary (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bemydownfall) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2015-10-19 10:36 pm
bemydownfall) wrote in muserevival2015-10-19 10:36 pm
Entry tags:
105.1 Lyrics
"I have seen peace. I have seen pain,
Resting on the shoulders of your name.
Do you see the truth through all their lies?
Do you see the world through troubled eyes?
And if you want to talk about it anymore,
Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend"
• Cry, James Blunt
Caleb could only remember once that he had ever seen Zed even close to the kind of sick that PEP could apparently make you, and that was when, as kids, probably no older than twelve or thirteen, they’d nicked a cigarette off one of Caleb’s uncles and smoked it down by the lake… and both been violently sick. It was a pretty ironic thing, considering that both of them smoked now, but Caleb remembered it well. Zed… at the time Zoran… had been the first to be sick, and Caleb had rushed to the edge of the water, pulled off his t-shirt and dipped it in, coming back to press the cool, wet cloth to his best friend’s face… Only to moments later be blowing chunks himself. They’d both sworn to each other then and there to never smoke again, and when they’d recovered enough from feeling terrible, they’d managed to get back home, but not before stopping at the corner store for a pack of gum and a bottle of cheap cologne that had probably been more of a dead giveaway than walking in smelling like smoke would’ve been.
Things like that had nearly faded from his memory before Zed was back in his life… or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe they’d just been too painful to dwell on and he’d tried not to think of them too much. That seemed to be the more likely thing, because that first night that he’d locked eyes with Zed across the room at the bar, it had all come flooding back like an avalanche. So many memories long buried, rushing to the forefront of his mind… And Zed had been gone so quickly he’d almost convinced himself, if only for a moment, that he’d dreamed it. But there was no doubt. He’d know that face anywhere.
Zed was sick. Very sick, which was apparently pretty common with PEP, and Caleb ached for him. Being sick, on top of the terror that it might all be for nothing – it couldn’t be easy. The pills could not work, and then he would’ve gone through a month of being ill only to find that his fear had been realized just the same… Caleb had already determined, no matter what the outcome, he would be there. He was staying. And it was with that thought in mind that he was seeking out Zed’s apartment after a text conversation a few hours before. He’d told Zed he’d be right over, but he’d decided to stop and buy a few things like Gatorade and ginger ale that he might be able to keep down, though Caleb couldn’t be sure.
A knock at the door went unanswered, and Caleb knocked harder, only to go unanswered again, so he walked around to find a slightly Zed-shaped ball of blankets on the balcony outside, and called out to him. “Do you have your keys, Z? Toss them down for me, and I’ll let myself in.” Zed was weak, but he shifted to the edge of the balcony and tossed the keys over, where the landed with a clunk near Caleb’s feet, and he immediately made his way up into the other guy’s apartment. It was even worse seeing it in person. Zed was sick… horribly sick, and Caleb took the stairs two at a time, through the apartment, and out to the balcony where he sank down to the small floor next to Zed. “Hey,” he said softly, shaking his head at how weak and tired Zed looked. “Sorry. I stopped to get some Gatorade… I was hoping maybe you could try and hold something down.” It was only a moment before he was adjusting the blankets tight around Zed’s shoulders and looking him over. “Do you think you could at least try a few sips of Gatorade? If not, I’ll put it in the fridge for later.”
Zed shook his head, but even that seemed too much effort, and he tiredly shifted, only to end up resting sort of against Caleb’s side… probably more so because of the cramped space than anything but Caleb would take it. In the isolation of the tiny balcony, Caleb wrapped his arms around Zed’s body, holding him close, and kissed the top of his head. “I’m here, Z,” he assured him, the familiar childhood nickname much easier on his lips than Zoran’s new name. “And I promise you, this time, I’m not leaving you.”
He waited for the protest… for Zed to come back with some harsh anger about how he’d promised that before… But all the fight and all the strength were gone out of him, and instead of fighting, he just stayed put, shifting his head a little, but ultimately, staying right there at Caleb’s side. There was still so much pain from the past to sort through, but in this moment, Caleb’s concern was holding Zed through the pain of the present.
Resting on the shoulders of your name.
Do you see the truth through all their lies?
Do you see the world through troubled eyes?
And if you want to talk about it anymore,
Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend"
• Cry, James Blunt
Caleb could only remember once that he had ever seen Zed even close to the kind of sick that PEP could apparently make you, and that was when, as kids, probably no older than twelve or thirteen, they’d nicked a cigarette off one of Caleb’s uncles and smoked it down by the lake… and both been violently sick. It was a pretty ironic thing, considering that both of them smoked now, but Caleb remembered it well. Zed… at the time Zoran… had been the first to be sick, and Caleb had rushed to the edge of the water, pulled off his t-shirt and dipped it in, coming back to press the cool, wet cloth to his best friend’s face… Only to moments later be blowing chunks himself. They’d both sworn to each other then and there to never smoke again, and when they’d recovered enough from feeling terrible, they’d managed to get back home, but not before stopping at the corner store for a pack of gum and a bottle of cheap cologne that had probably been more of a dead giveaway than walking in smelling like smoke would’ve been.
Things like that had nearly faded from his memory before Zed was back in his life… or maybe they hadn’t. Maybe they’d just been too painful to dwell on and he’d tried not to think of them too much. That seemed to be the more likely thing, because that first night that he’d locked eyes with Zed across the room at the bar, it had all come flooding back like an avalanche. So many memories long buried, rushing to the forefront of his mind… And Zed had been gone so quickly he’d almost convinced himself, if only for a moment, that he’d dreamed it. But there was no doubt. He’d know that face anywhere.
Zed was sick. Very sick, which was apparently pretty common with PEP, and Caleb ached for him. Being sick, on top of the terror that it might all be for nothing – it couldn’t be easy. The pills could not work, and then he would’ve gone through a month of being ill only to find that his fear had been realized just the same… Caleb had already determined, no matter what the outcome, he would be there. He was staying. And it was with that thought in mind that he was seeking out Zed’s apartment after a text conversation a few hours before. He’d told Zed he’d be right over, but he’d decided to stop and buy a few things like Gatorade and ginger ale that he might be able to keep down, though Caleb couldn’t be sure.
A knock at the door went unanswered, and Caleb knocked harder, only to go unanswered again, so he walked around to find a slightly Zed-shaped ball of blankets on the balcony outside, and called out to him. “Do you have your keys, Z? Toss them down for me, and I’ll let myself in.” Zed was weak, but he shifted to the edge of the balcony and tossed the keys over, where the landed with a clunk near Caleb’s feet, and he immediately made his way up into the other guy’s apartment. It was even worse seeing it in person. Zed was sick… horribly sick, and Caleb took the stairs two at a time, through the apartment, and out to the balcony where he sank down to the small floor next to Zed. “Hey,” he said softly, shaking his head at how weak and tired Zed looked. “Sorry. I stopped to get some Gatorade… I was hoping maybe you could try and hold something down.” It was only a moment before he was adjusting the blankets tight around Zed’s shoulders and looking him over. “Do you think you could at least try a few sips of Gatorade? If not, I’ll put it in the fridge for later.”
Zed shook his head, but even that seemed too much effort, and he tiredly shifted, only to end up resting sort of against Caleb’s side… probably more so because of the cramped space than anything but Caleb would take it. In the isolation of the tiny balcony, Caleb wrapped his arms around Zed’s body, holding him close, and kissed the top of his head. “I’m here, Z,” he assured him, the familiar childhood nickname much easier on his lips than Zoran’s new name. “And I promise you, this time, I’m not leaving you.”
He waited for the protest… for Zed to come back with some harsh anger about how he’d promised that before… But all the fight and all the strength were gone out of him, and instead of fighting, he just stayed put, shifting his head a little, but ultimately, staying right there at Caleb’s side. There was still so much pain from the past to sort through, but in this moment, Caleb’s concern was holding Zed through the pain of the present.