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“It'll just be for a while, pipsqueak, I'll visit.”
Caleb's uniform is smooth, unwrinkled, and warm beneath your fingers.
Too perfect, you think, Caleb is much messier than this. And as though he senses your thoughts, he says-
“Don't you think it'll leave a good first impression?”
He's smiling, a grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes and draws in his brows-
His gaze doesn't look quite as happy though, and there's a colder edge to the uptick of his lips than you're used to seeing when he's talking with you. It's comforting to know the newfound distance upsets him too, if even just a little.
“What's the use in leaving an impression you don't plan to keep?” You grin, taking his cheeks between your palms, and drawing yourself up and onto the tips of your toes to press your foreheads together. It's familiar, something you've done since the two of you were kids, and it's comforting in a situation where the comfort is sorely lacking-
An anticipatory grief, one you know is coming the moment he gets on the bus that'll soon be stopping by, and you let the touch linger for longer than you should-
Neither of you comment on it, neither of you address the tension that has recently seemed a lot less friendly, and a lot more of something-
More?
But this is Caleb, and this is you, and so you don't mess up the perfect creases in his suit, and you don't shake your hands through his hair, and you let him leave far too perfect, and far too not your Caleb and-
You wish you had done something, wonder if he wishes you would have too, and you look back on your lack of ‘ doing’ way more than you should.
You miss Caleb the moment you're alone again in your room, you miss him in the silence of your space, and you miss him in the sudden lack of the warmth that used to linger in the corners of your house.
Granny does not feel the void of his leaving, and you take up the hobby of watching the passing planes through your window.
Caleb could be their pilot.
—------------
The items you salvage from the explosion are of little comfort to you, and you run your hands over ruined uniforms, and wish they could be made perfect once again.
It's not fair, and you sleep with the tattered fabric held pressed against you on your mattress.
He had always promised you he'd visit, and so for a while you tell yourself that he'll be back-
That they hadn't found his body, so surely-
—-------------
Caleb's grave is cold, and empty. A headstone you picked because of its simplicity, and ease to design. It's the kind of thing that reminded you of Caleb, simplicity and ease, because that's how life felt when the two of you were together.
Were together, because now you weren't, and your life had been turned upside down trying to solve his case.
You wish he had let you die in the blast instead, wish he hadn't been visiting that day, and wish he'd show up at your new apartment and tell you it was all just a poorly executed joke.
His old clothing still smells too much like smoke, and you swallow down a grief you still can barely contain.
You're afraid you'll forget his smell one day, forget the warmth of his arms around you, and you are afraid to move on, on your own.
You spend too many hours in the company of a headstone.
—------------
The interrogation room is suffocating, too dark, too-
Your heart thunders in your chest, eyes wide, and gaze far too hopeful for the situation you're in.
“Caleb?”
His Colonel uniform is pressed, ironed perfectly, against his form, and there's no trace of the warmth you'd grown up with.
His words are cold, cruel, and you bite back something you can't quite name when you find yourself on the receiving end of them.
You can't bring yourself to completely hate him though, and when the camera shuts off, his arms are around you, and his words turn sweet.
This is Caleb, a Caleb you don't really know, but Caleb nonetheless.
He has an image to keep, and so you do not ruin his hair, or wrinkle his suit.
You have to let him walk away, have to let him play whatever part it is he's trying to play-
You wonder, bitterly, why he couldn't have given you a sign, why he hadn't and still hasn't told you anything -
You worry he'll disappear again.
—----------
Caleb visits you in Linkon, a rare occurrence, and it takes you by surprise when he meets you outside of work.
“I thought you might forget your umbrella.” He smiles, extending an arm to you from beneath his.
You do not tell him that your umbrella is in your work locker, and you let him wrap his arm around your shoulders and lead you to his car.
He's in his uniform, and he smells like rain, and you rack your brain for reasons to get him to stay.
“You must be cold.” You murmur, staring out of his rainy car window, and watching the city lights blur around you as you pass.
“I didn't get wet, I'll be fine-”
“You did get wet,” you interrupt without looking at him, “You got wet, and now I'm worried you'll catch a cold.”
“Pipsqueak,” Caleb sighs, and you feel your heart sink, “You don't need to make up excuses to see me.”
But I do, You think, you never visit.
‘ You could leave me again.’
You don't say it, you never will, but the threat of it is still the same.
It scares you. What if the grave is full next time? What if he leaves, and never returns?
“Okay,” You say instead, “will you be staying the night?”
“Maybe next time.” Caleb grins, the rain pattering softly against the hood of his car, “I have an important meeting tomorrow.”
It's only minutes more before Caleb is parked at your apartment, and walking you inside.
He stops at your door, ruffling your hair as he wishes you well, and you feel a numb, cold feeling spread through your chest-
You reach out, and press your hands over his shoulders, down his chest, over his arms-
You wrinkle his suit, hug him and run your hands through his hair-
You ruin his perfect image, feel his chest rise and fall against yours, and know that he is alive, and leaving, and in this moment, he could be your version of Caleb again.
But he pulls away far too soon, promising to visit you again, and you're forced to watch him leave from the view of your own rain splattered window.
Skyhaven was too far away, and Caleb was too close to missing for comfort.
You just hope he'll keep his promise this time.
You draw your curtains.