Chapter Text
Things were going well between Caleb and Essek since their conversation at Caleb’s grave, much to everyone’s relief.
The pair didn’t do things as just the two of them, but they were able to be in the same room and talk to each other. They discovered they both were more private than the others, enjoyed reading similar genres - sans romance on Essek’s end - and had a similar amount of social battery before they were burned out. They liked intellectual conversations and debates, which was a breath of fresh air for the former Shadowhand. It had been centuries since he talked with someone that liked to talk about such things.
Essek, like Caleb, also refused to get in the hot spring, only daring to roll up his pants and put his feet in. It was a cultural thing, as well as a personal preference, which he explained to the human. Caleb remarked that he was glad he wasn’t the only one to not get in and joined him with an awkward smile, sitting on the edge a few times until Clarabelle and Caduceus got him some swim clothes that kept his scars hidden. Even then, he sometimes sat on the edge by Essek, and Essek had to admit Caleb was right. It was nice to not be the only one refraining from getting in.
Caleb noticed that Essek didn’t seem as nervous around the Zemnian anymore. Perhaps he’d gotten better at hiding the true depths of his fear, but Caleb and the others were optimistic that wasn’t the case. And for a week of befriending, less afraid and talking to him seemed like good progress.
As for Molly, Caleb was discovering he didn’t terribly mind their friends-with-benefits situation. It was certainly odd going from a strict monogamous relationship of over a decade to this casual and easy thing they were doing, but it seemed to work well for them both, which was a pleasant surprise.
Low stakes, low expectations, and with no need to worry if he was doing something wrong and would get yelled at. No need to worry if Bren wasn’t being romantic and loving enough to give evidence of his feelings so his partner wouldn’t accuse him of not loving them later, because Mollymauk didn’t want Caleb to be romantic or loving, and certainly didn’t consider him a partner. But more importantly, Mollymauk wasn’t her.
He was infinitely grateful to have met Mollymauk despite what brought him here. Perhaps it was the distance from it all - the hospitalizations, the gaslighting, the manipulation - and a kind voice telling him he wasn’t the problem that made him finally open his eyes.
Bren had no idea their relationship had been so suffocating and damaging for him, and was baffled that he couldn’t see it before now. Of course being used like a toy, meant to be felt but not heard, hands kept to himself and his satisfaction an afterthought, if it was a thought at all, would be incredibly damaging to his already low self-esteem. Of course he would see himself as less than human, as just an object to be used and disposed of, when he let someone treat him as such. Of course he would start attempting to forgive himself, start to try to not hate himself, and then would contact her and be knocked back to square one. He really should have figured it out sooner.
He still wasn’t sure whether he regretted it or not. Aside from losing out on whatever future he could have had with Bryce, he couldn’t say he would’ve been happier alive than here, at the Blooming Grove, with the spirits that were swiftly becoming his good friends.
But he tried not to think about his past. He was learning to focus on the present. On being the person he wanted to be, not the person that brought him here, like Caduceus had said. It wasn’t so scary, now, to live in the moment. Not when he had these wonderful, eccentric, hilarious and chaotic people to befriend.
Forgetting about the past went completely out the window one morning, as the group was headed to meet Beau at the hot spring for their usual mid-morning soak.
They were standing on the balcony, waiting for the chronically late Mollymauk to arrive.
“How is he always late?” Fjord sighed, leaning against the balustrade with his arms crossed, wearing a pair of red swim trunks and a white tank top. “He’s dead. Being on time has literally never been easier for him, and yet here we are, waiting on the bloke.”
“You have to realize by now that they do this on purpose, yes?” Essek countered, looking down from the balcony with mild disinterest, studying the early morning reflection across the recently waxed and polished wood floors with boredom. Essek was in his dark purple-blue tunic with silver embroidery, the waist cinched, and matching pants.
“Why would he make us wait on purpose?”
“Have you heard of something called being ‘fashionably late’?” Caleb offered, standing by the wall with Yasha. He was wearing the clothes the Clays had gotten him, a white long-sleeve swim shirt and blue trunks, while she was wearing her usual black bikini, her muscles on full display.
“I’ve heard it referenced in movies and television. Is that what he’s doing?”
Caleb shrugged. “You all would know better than I would. That is just my guess.”
“What does it mean to be fashionably late?” Yasha asked Caleb, confused.
“Fashionably late is the idea that it is a good look for someone to be fifteen minutes late. It means they’re busy people with lots to do. I think? I’ve never really understood the concept myself.”
“That does sound like Molly.” Yasha hummed with a nod. There was a brief moment of silence before Yasha added, “Maybe we should all start doing it.”
“If we’re all fashionably late, as Caleb called it,” Essek argued, “that just means we are meeting at 8:15 instead of 8:00. Which means Mollymauk will shift to 8:30 so they are still fashionably late.”
“This is giving me a headache.” Fjord rubbed his temples.
“Really? It’s a rather simple concept.”
“Oh, no, I understand it. I just bloody hate it and think it’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“That I will readily agree with you on.” Caleb chuckled.
“Ditto.” Essek mumbled, lazily dragging his eyes over the shimmering wood downstairs.
A moment later the door opened, and out stepped the one they were waiting for, wearing black square leg swim trunks.
No matter how many times he saw Mollymauk in it, Caleb had to pointedly keep his eyes above Mollymauk’s waist, feeling a blush creeping up the back of his neck. He took great relief in seeing Fjord’s cheeks turn a little darker as well, but that didn’t change the fact that Caleb’s body ached with desire and threatened to grow something he couldn’t hide when his eyes dropped to the pronounced bulge in Mollymauk’s shorts.
He couldn’t just wear normal, just-above-the-knee baggy trunks like Fjord and Caleb. He just had to wear tight shorts.
Caleb noticed Essek also avoiding looking, but very clearly out of being uncomfortable and mildly disgusted, and held back a laugh.
“Thank the Gods.” Fjord exhaled with relief. “Alright, are we ready to go?”
“Aye aye Captain.”
Fjord rolled his eyes and led the way out of the manor with Molly and Yasha behind him, followed by Essek and then Caleb. Mollymauk began spouting some fantasial tale to Yasha as they descended the stairs, the tribal woman listening eagerly while Essek raised an eyebrow at the back of the tiefling’s head.
“I would think you’d be used to Mollymauk’s swimwear by now.” Caleb’s voice teased the drow. Essek rolled his eyes.
“The poor excuse for clothing Mollymauk calls swimwear is appalling regardless of how many times I see it.”
“You don’t react that way to Fjord and I, though.”
“Because you two aren’t putting your bits on display.” Essek huffed. “Do you know I had to convince them to wear that? They initially got something that was just a pouch held together by string! It was atrocious.”
“They got a thong?” Caleb laughed and tried very hard not to picture Mollymauk in it, closing the front door behind himself as they left the building.
“If that’s what that animal-spotted abomination to modesty is called, then yes. Caduceus and I had to convince them to wear something at least a little more modest around the others and myself.”
After a few paces Essek realized he no longer heard footsteps following him. He looked over his shoulder, wondering where Caleb was, and found the man stopped at the top of the porch steps, staring out with shock and horror at something, and followed his eyeline-
“Du machst wohl Witze.” Caleb exhaled a baffled laugh, making Essek’s gaze immediately flick back to the angered Zemnian.
Caleb was so furious he lost concentration on maintaining his swim outfit and switched back to his red sweater, cream button-up, and brown jeans. Pale fists clenched at his sides, muscles tensing so tightly his knuckles turned white and his arms shook.
Essek felt his heart drop through his stomach and his blood run cold.
The human stomped down the steps and broke out in a run, heading toward whatever he’d seen, and instinct had Essek turning tail and running, too. He ran to catch up with the group and grabbed Molly’s bare tattooed arm, who stumbled and nearly lost their balance.
“M-Molly-”
Molly’s face turned from surprise to concern swiftly upon seeing Essek’s wide, frightened eyes. “Whoa, Hot Boi, what’s-”
A bellowing voice ricocheted through the trees, shouting in a language that was foreign to Essek but recognizable, and Essek squeaked and spun around to hide behind Molly, facing the source with the rest of the group.
Ikithon’s face flashed in his mind’s eye. All the fears he’d dealt with during his week-long stay at the Assembly member’s estate roiled in his stomach. It made a cold sweat start on the back of his neck and his stomach threatened to empty itself into the grass.
Caleb is different, Essek tried to remind himself, trembling, there’s nothing to be afraid of.
“Caleb?” Molly called, leaving the group to jog back down the path to the road, and Essek hesitantly let him go.
The Zemnian shouting only grew in volume the closer Molly got, drowning out the other sets of footsteps following him.
The tiefling caught sight of Caleb, by his grave a couple hundred feet away, standing next to someone with dirty blonde hair in an asymmetrical cut, grey sweatpants, and a black hoodie. Beside her was a tall, tan muscular man with short black hair and a simple white t-shirt with blue jeans.
“What’s going on?” Fjord asked, glancing between Molly who stopped at the edge of the path where it met the sidewalk and Caleb who kept yelling, getting more and more tearful and upset.
“I don’t know.” Molly lied. He knew of only one person that had done Caleb dirty enough to earn getting screamed at. And sure, maybe this was someone Caleb had failed to mention to him as of yet, but with how mad the man was? Molly doubted it.
“Should we… go over?” Yasha asked with an uncertain wince.
“I don’t know.” At least Molly didn’t have to lie this time.
“What’s wrong?” A gruff female voice called out, running up behind the group.
Beau, in a blue halter top and matching briefs, slowed to a stop next to everyone, seeing a trembling Essek hiding behind Yasha’s broad back. She must have heard the shouting and came running from the hot spring to investigate.
“Someone showed up at Caleb’s grave and he’s right fuming.” Molly jerked their chin toward the human man a couple hundred feet away.
“Do we know who it is?”
“No clue.” Fjord answered in a sigh. Molly silently thanked him for unwittingly not making him lie again. “Whoever it is, Caleb seems to really hate them.”
As the couple walked away, the man’s arm wrapped around the woman’s back, Caleb waved them off dismissively, shouting in more Zemnian. It was a mixture of sobs and yelling that made everyone collectively frown. Even Essek, peeking out from behind Yasha, felt his racing heart ache at the clear anguish in Caleb’s voice.
The human began to charge through the cemetery toward the forest, away from the manor, the hot spring, and the leaving couple. The group tensed, glancing between each other and Caleb’s fleeing back, wondering if someone was going to run off after him. If someone should run off after him.
“Let’s leave him be for a bit.” Fjord decided for the group.
“Y-Yeah, he - he probably wants to be alone.” Yasha agreed uncertainly.
“Give him to lunch, and if he’s not back one of us checks on him?” Molly suggested.
“Sounds good to me.” Beau mumbled, distracted by the questions in her head.
Everyone began to walk back toward the hot spring. Essek lingered, frowning and torn between the fear telling him to stay away and the memory of a young man sitting with his back to his parents’ gravestone in the dark.
Reluctantly, figuring Molly and the others knew Caleb better than he, Essek turned and followed.