My (small) reaction to the events of episode 25.
It has been over a week when Caleb actually notices the change in Mollymauk.
He knows that he’s not particularly good at reading people, but it has been some time with this group of almost strangers now and Caleb watches.
He can’t really say why he keeps watching Mollymauk so closely, has been doing so for weeks and weeks, even before the others got kidnapped. Caleb first assumed that it was because Mollymauk was so bright, so colorful, and so loud, that it is simply impossible to take one’s eyes off him.
But the truth is that Jester is all those things as well and Caleb has not been watching her as closely as he has watched Mollymauk Tealeaf.
The cart feels terribly empty with only four people in it. Mollymauk has managed to build a roof for the cart out of tarp and timber and now they’re sitting under it while rain pours down from the sky and drums against their makeshift cover.
Caleb is usually a friend of silence but this silence is oppressive, it almost hurts in his ears and his brain and in his chest because it speaks so loudly of the absence of three people who are supposed to be here with them but are not.
At first, Caleb has thought about their obvious uses for the group. The Healer. The Talker. The Muscle.
But it only took him an hour to realize—stupid Caleb, for all your smarts, you still have no idea about people—that it was not only Jester’s healing that was essential for this group to work, or Fjord’s smooth talking, or Yasha’s strength.
Now, as the silence presses on his ears, he knows that Jester’s giggling is missing and her never-ending stories and questions and silly games. He knows that Fjord’s calming presence is not there because Beauregard keeps hitting the side of their cart as if it was the cart’s personal fault that they were all gone.
And Caleb also understands that Yasha’s silence and even her awkwardness is missing. It’s a different kind of silence, coming from her. It soothes instead of hurting.
Caleb hates it. Hates that they’re gone, hates Beauregard’s and Mollymauk’s open misery. Even Nott looks sad all the time now. Caleb wonders if he looks just as sad.
Molly doesn’t talk as much now. He fidgets with his cards but never draws a single one anymore. Caleb wonders if this was the Mollymauk who clawed himself out of that grave, that silent, unsure, weirdly small Mollymauk. Staring into nothing, eyes searching for something that isn’t there.
Caleb is sure that Molly is somehow getting smaller, his hands balled into fists, his arms pressed closely to his side instead of gesturing widely. It takes Caleb three days to figure out why Molly is making himself small and stiff.
Nott brushes past Mollymauk and Caleb sees him tense up, as if he’s somehow being hurt by Nott’s close proximity which doesn’t make any sense at all. Caleb notices how Molly swallows and turns his head and it hits Caleb while staring at Mollymauk’s claws that are digging themselves into the palm of his hand.
It takes everything out of Mollymauk to not reach out. To touch.
The minute Jester and Yasha were gone, Molly lost the two people in this group he’s been closest to. Literally, physically closest to. Close as in heads on shoulders, fingers entwined, hair braided, hugs given.
And now he is left with Beau who usually only touches people when she punches them. With Nott who probably wouldn’t mind much but is not really an expert when it comes to things like this. And Caleb, who freezes when being touched, who shrinks in on himself when someone brushes past him too closely.
Caleb knows he cannot fix this. He cannot fix that three of them are gone and they have no idea how to find them. He’s past the point of thinking about leaving now, he wouldn’t leave Beauregard and Mollymauk behind. And he’s pretty sure that Nott wouldn’t either.
Caleb clears his throat and it sounds unnaturally loud in the oppressing silence.
“Could we—ah. Could we get closer?”, he rasps out, his heart faltering for a moment and then beating twice as hard as before.
Mollymauk and Beau look up at him, Beau’s eyes almost mistrustful, her gaze flickering through the cart as if she’s looking for Fjord to give her directions. Mollymauk cocks his head and looks at him.
It’s always unnerving, being pinned by those red eyes. Caleb looks away.
“Kind of”, Caleb answers truthfully.
He’s not cold physically. But it sure is very cold in this cart, the emotional kind of cold.
“You can have my blanket”, Nott offers immediately, “It’s very warm. I stole it from this grumpy merchant guy who—“
Who was so afraid of Yasha that he almost gave them everything they asked for free.
Caleb is bad at doing things like this. But he has to do something so he scoots closer until his shoulder brushes against Mollymauk’s. There is an instant reaction of sucked in breath and a flinch that reminds Caleb of himself.
Mollymauk should not flinch like this, Caleb thinks and takes a deep breath before pressing closer and putting his head on Mollymauk’s shoulder.
“Come over here, Nott”, he croaks and gestures for her to come closer. She climbs into his lap without further question and rolls into a ball, much like Frumpkin would.
Beau stares at them and Caleb wonders if she might simply get up and leave, but a very strange look passes over her face and then she hesitantly scoots closer, stops herself for a second but eventually huddles up on Caleb’s other side.
He can tell that Beau is not used to this at all, but Mollymauk is basically melting against Caleb, his fists loosening, his whole body relaxing and Caleb can hear him breathe in and out very deliberately, as if Mollymauk has a hard time to stop himself from simply using the three of them as his personal pillow.
Caleb searches for the words to tell him that it would be fine if he did so but they do not come. Instead he finds himself breathless with all of the sudden contact and he’s hyper aware of everything—Mollymauk’s smell, his intense body heat, Beau’s stiffness compared to Mollymauk’s compliance.
Nott in his lap is nothing new so Caleb tries to anchor himself to that familiar feeling.
“Better?”, Nott mumbles in his lap.
Caleb closes his eyes and searches with one of his hands for clawed fingers at his side. When he finds them he barely touches but Molly’s hand moves instinctively, lacing both of their fingers together and squeezing. He’s still not speaking but Caleb guesses that he cannot expect miracles.
He puts his other hand into Nott’s hair.
“Better”, he answers quietly, his heart beating strangely loud in his chest.
With the four of them huddled together like this, the silence doesn’t hurt as much anymore.
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