Work Text:
The sixteen years had certainly been kinder to Eadwulf than to him. Caleb couldn’t say he was surprised by that though, stress and guilt do a lot to a person and Wulf….
Wulf is strong. He didn’t break, and, looking at him now, Caleb wondered if he ever would.
He honestly can’t remember if they ever visited him while he was here, he doubts it, but a part of him wonders. He hates it. He hates it here. Seeing Trent. Seeing Wulf. Everything about this.
All while they talk, Eadwulf is silent. He always was, but not like this. But what authority does he have on what Eadwulf is like? Sixteen years is a hell of a difference.
They are about to leave, but Caleb needs to say something, “Wulf,” it’s a risk, a mistake trying to talk to him, but a small part of him longs to talk to his friend, “it’s good to see you again.”
Eadwulf's arms are crossed in a way that he knew well, but his voice is so much deeper than what he remembered, “it’s good to see you too,” he wonders if that’s true, “it’s been some time. You look good.” That part was a blatant lie, but still, he wonders.
He wants to say something else, but he can’t, not now, not here, “...let’s go.”