#pself

[masonmccheers]

If These Walls Could Talk

Who: Mason McCarthy and NPC (mentions of @jaxonmccarthy and @schuylerpillsburyschuester)

When: May 11, afternoon

Where: Dance studio in Rhodes building

What: Mason has another encounter with his bully and it’s taken to a new level

Trigger Warnings: assault, homophobia

The two hours had gone by surprisingly quickly. He’d still been able to feel Jeremy’s eyes on him while he danced, but with Jaxon sitting against the wall working, at least the guy had stayed quiet for the entire practice. Mason would take the little wins. 

Jeremy and Laney had left and Mason told Jaxon to go up to Schuy’s art studio while he cleaned up. Hopefully he could get them to take him to lunch because he was starving. He grabbed his phone, disconnecting it from the speakers. He went to make sure neither he or Jaxon had left anything behind and found a hoodie laying over one of the chairs. He didn’t remember his brother wearing it that day, but he had been pretty distracted. As soon as he picked it up though, he heard breathing in the doorway and turned around quickly to find Jeremy staring at him. 

“Um… is this yours?” he asked quietly, holding it out. 

Jeremy ripped the jacket from Mason’s hand, glancing around. “Your babysitter gone?” 

“He’s my brother. He just… just wanted to see my routine.” Mason swallowed, his throat growing dry quickly. 

“Or maybe he just wanted to come stare at Laney like you. Maybe being a perv runs in the family.” 

“I told you… I have a boyfriend. And so does he,” Mason insisted. 

“Oh, so being a fag runs in the family.” Jeremy took another step forward, causing Mason to step back. He kept doing so until Mason was against the wall. “How do you all live with yourselves?” 

It was said aggressively, but Mason couldn’t help but wonder if part of him was genuinely asking. He lifted his chin and looked the larger man in the eyes. “Happily,” he answered. “And proudly.” 

Jeremy’s eyes burned into him, his jaw clenching. “Feisty,” he spit out. 

Before Mason could even react, he felt harsh lips on his and teeth scraping at soft skin. It took everything in him to use the physical strength he had to push the guy off of him, even if his mental strength was breaking by the second. They both stood there staring at each other and Mason slowly slid his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone so he could call Jaxon and Schuyler. 

Jeremy didn’t miss the movement though and grabbed Mason’s arm with a tight fist, yanking on it before slamming Mason against the wall. A sharp, intense pain shot through Mason’s shoulder and he cried out, ducking his head down. “Don’t you… fucking dare… say a fucking word about this to anyone, you little cocksucker.” He fisted his shirt and pounded him back against the wall one more time before he walked out. 

The pain in Mason’s shoulder was blinding and he slowly slid down the wall until he was on the floor. There was fear, hurt, and anger all swimming through him at the same time as tears streamed down his face. “FUCK!” he screamed at the empty room. 

Using his good arm, he managed to get his phone out and hit Schuy’s number. He hit the speaker button and let the phone hit the ground. When he heard Schuy’s voice he squeaked out a small “Help,” between sobs.

[joiesamevans]

Ice Cold

Who: Sam Evans and Oliver Fabray

When: Late Saturday night/Early Sunday morning

Where: AXi house

What: It’s just a tiny bit of cuteness, read it, you fools!

Sam’s eyes blinked open as a whining sound registered in his brain. The whining turned into crying and he popped up quickly to check on Ollie. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s happening?” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder at where Nikko was asleep in the bed. He bent down and lifted Ollie up into his arms. “C’mon, little man. Let’s not wake Uncle Lai up, okay?” 

He bounced gently as he took Ollie out of the room, closing the door behind him. He headed downstairs to avoid waking up Bryce or Justin or whoever else was in the house. He frowned as Ollie kept whimpering as they made their way into the kitchen. “Your diaper’s clean, you shouldn’t be hungry yet. You just missing Mama? Hmm?” He held Ollie against his bare chest and rubbed the little boy’s back. 

“Here, look at Uncle Sammie. Let me see your mouth.” He peeked inside Ollie’s mouth and hummed. “Is another pesky tooth trying to sneak in? Is that what’s up? Let’s see.” Sam grabbed a bowl and used his free hand to put some ice cubes in it, sticking his finger into them to cool it off. “Damn, that’s cold. Don’t tell your Ma I said damn.” He kept bouncing and making soothing shushing noises until he couldn’t take the cold anymore. Slipping the finger into Ollie’s mouth, he rubbed gently at the red spot towards the back of Ollie’s gums. He winced as Ollie bit down slightly around his finger, but at least he was quieting down and seemed in a little distress. “There we go. Is that better?” 

Sam remembered then that Nikko had stuck some sort of pretzel looking teether in their freezer earlier that day and he went in search of it, for the sake of his finger. Ollie took to attempting to chew on Sam’s shoulder instead while he looked for it. “Yeah, that’s fine. Not like my shoulders don’t get bitten a lot,” he mumbled. “Ah, here we go. Chew on this, my little dude.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, Sam turned on a lullaby playlist on Spotify and set it on the counter while he paced gently back and forth through the kitchen and Ollie laid against his shoulder, starting to drift off again. 

[joiearielps]

Who: Ariel Pillsbury-Schuester & Declan Pillsbury-Schuester (with mentions of @schuylerpillsburyschuester @psitsaustin & @ashton-pillsbury-schuester) (You know, all of em)

Where: Ariel’s room, phone convo

When: Sunday, April 12

What: Ariel gets some needed advice from an unexpected source

Ariel: Hey, Monkey.

Declan: Hey, Mermaid. How goes it? 

Ariel: It’s gone better. How ‘bout you?

Declan: Eh, you know, it’s just me and Mom and Dad now, so.. I’m pretty much going insane. 

Ariel: I’m sorry, kiddo. 

Declan: It’s cool. So... Austin said some crazy shit’s been going down out there. 

Ariel: Aww, Monkey, did you call just to check up on me? Or to get the gossip?

Declan: I can’t confirm either way. But seriously, you okay?

Ariel: I’m trying to be. I’m worried about... everybody. But what else is new, right? 

Declan: Is Ashton’s new girlfriend really crazy? 

Ariel: She’s not crazy and don’t use that word. She’s just probably not ready to actually be in a relationship, but I’m not sure if Ashton’s going to care much. I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since Schuy found out. Haven’t talked to anyone but Jax actually. 

Declan: Cause god forbid you talk to Schuy, right? 

Ariel: Hey, I have tried plenty of times. It is not my fault he won’t listen. And don’t even get me started right now. I’m depressed enough about it as it is. 

Declan: Are you sure he’s the only one who won’t listen? 

Ariel: And what’s that supposed to mean? 

Declan: Hey, I’ve been watching you two go at it my entire life. If there’s anything I learned it’s that you both suck at listening to each other. Probably cause you’re always yelling. 

Ariel: Well, I... URGH! 

Declan: [laughs] What the hell was that noise? 

Ariel: You are the baby! You are not allowed to say perfectly wise and logical things to me, you hear me? I’m supposed to give you advice. 

Declan: You do. And just so you know, even when I don’t listen... I’m listening. Also something to think about. 

Ariel: ...yeah. You two are a lot alike, you know? 

Declan: Thanks. I do like to think I could kick an ass if I needed to. 

Ariel: That is not what I meant. But it was still a compliment. 

Declan: I know. Just stop pushing so hard, okay? But also make sure he doesn’t kill Ashton’s girlfriend. Also tell him he owes me 20 bucks. Tell Austin that too. Neither of them do, but it’s worth a shot. 

Ariel: [laughs] You’re ridiculous, Monkey. 

Declan: Love you, sis. 

Ariel: ...I love you too. Go do your homework. 

Declan: Yes, ma’am. Later. 

Ariel: Bye. 

[joiesamevans]

Who: Sam Evans

When: Sunday night 2/16

Where: His office

What: Sam gets some bad news from his parents and comes up with a plan to help

Sam sat in his office at the frat house and rubbed at his temples. He hated having to do this so much, but he was completely out of money and tomorrow was his birthday after all. Maybe he could ask to forego a gift and just get a little extra cash instead. He dialed the phone and leaned forward on his desk. 

“Hey, it’s my birthday boy!” His mother’s voice rang out from the other side of the phone in it’s usual cheery tone. “Hang on, let me put you on speaker so your dad can hear.” 

Sam smiled softly and waited until he heard them both. “Hey. How’re you guys? How’s Stevie?” 

“Oh, he’s fine,” Dwight assured him. “Got himself a girlfriend who’s over here all the time. She’s a sweetheart though. You looking after your sister?” 

“I’d say she’s looking after me more lately, but yeah. She’s doing good,” Sam promised. He could practically hear the worry coming from his mother after that. 

“Well, we’re very glad you called, Sammy. We were going to call tomorrow to wish you a happy birthday, of course,” Mary told him. 

“I figured. But I was just thinking about you, so I thought I’d call tonight. And I was... maybe sorta hoping for a loan. Just to get me through ‘til my financial aid comes in.” The silence was deafening after his words came out and they said a lot more than any answer could’ve. “Mom? Pa? You still there?” 

“Yeah, son, we’re here.” Dwight sighed as he looked over at his wife. They really didn’t want to worry their kids, but they were becoming adults now. “I just don’t think we can swing it right now, Sammy. We, um... it’s been a rough winter here. We just had a bad storm and we had a couple mares miscarry.” 

“Shit,” Sam muttered, shaking his head. “Sorry, Ma, pardon the French. Do you need me to come home?”  “No! Absolutely not!” Mary told him firmly. “You are right where you belong. And you’ve been through enough lately, sweetie. Just concentrate on your classes and your friends. We’ll get by just fine. We just, unfortunately, don’t have any extra to send you right now. Maybe you could get a part time job or something like your sister.” Sam hummed and nodded to himself. He knew they were downplaying things. They always did. But he’d figure it out. “It’s okay, Ma. I understand. I’ll try to find something. And maybe I can send some back.”  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Dwight insisted. “Just take care of yourself.”  “Yeah. Okay, well, I better get going. I still have some frat stuff to take care of. I love you guys.”  “We love you too, Sammy. And happy birthday! Try to have some fun tomorrow!” Mary called.  “I will, Ma. Night.” Sam hung the phone up and dropped it on the desk, his head quickly following. This was not good, but what else was new. When one thing goes wrong, everything else just has to follow in it’s footsteps. In the back of his mind, he knew there was one way he could help solve at least this problem. He’d done it before after all. And as much as he didn’t want to... 

He opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out the last of his whiskey. “At least I still have you... for now.” 

[unstoppablemase]

Memories

Who: Mason McCarthy

When: Tuesday, May 1st, late afternoon

Where: Mason’s dorm room

What: Mason receives a surprise package that brings on some feelings

Warnings: Anxiety, Grief, Lots of Sadness

Mason hummed as he fumbled for his room key, one hand searching in his pocket while the other carefully balanced the large package he’d just picked up from the mail office. He was very curious to find out where it had come from since just about everyone he was close to was here at Ashwood with him. It was extremely doubtful that his parents would actually send him a package with anything meaningful in it. Sure, they sent money to their kids accounts, but they rarely actually put thought into any gifts, especially when there was no occasion happening. It might be from his cousin, but he really wasn’t sure. There was only one way to find out though. 

Once he finally got in the room, Mason threw his backpack on a chair and set the box down on his bed. He used his key to rip open the tape along the top of the box, his breath catching in his throat when he pulled the flaps open. He recognized the items in there within an instant and almost fell to the ground right there. He swallowed deeply and managed to sit on the edge of his bed before lifting up the envelope that sat on top of the contents of the box. He opened it carefully and read the words written by Derek’s mother, a woman who’d often been in his young life more than his own mother. 

Dear Mason, 

I know it’s been far too long since we talked and I regret it taking a life changing event for me to contact you. Mr. McMillan and I are in the process of moving to Phoenix for his work and it’s forced me to finally clean out the house, including Derek’s room. I’d kept so many of his things over the years because I couldn’t bear to part with those memories, but I’ve accepted that those memories aren’t just attached to objects but far more are a part of my heart. I’ve kept some things, of course, but there were also some things I knew Derek would want you to have. I’m sorry I didn’t give them to you sooner. I know you’ll cherish them and the memories they create as much as I have. 

I think of you and your sister often and I hope you’re both doing well in New York. Please know you can still call me anytime you’d like to. You were truly a brother to Derek and I know he’d want you to have a happy and fulfilling life, as do I. I love you, Mason. 

Jean

Mason’s chest felt tight, like one of those stress balls that had been squeezed to the maximum. He barely even realized he was crying until the tears fell from his cheek and dotted the piece of stationery in his hands. He set it down and reached into the box to pull out Derek’s cheer trophy from their sophomore year of high school. It was identical to his own except for the name that was etched on the gold plate. Mason hiccuped through his tears and went onto the next thing. There was a framed photo of Derek and him acting like idiots in the school’s cafeteria, a small scrapbook full of photos from the musicals they’d been in together, the matching friendship bracelet from the set they’d made when they were 10, and the stuffed giraffe that always sat on Derek’s bed. 

Mason clutched the stuffed animal against his chest as the tears turned into sobs and fell back against his mattress. He dealt with everything so well when he could just put it from his mind and concentrate on each new day, but when he really had to face it he inevitably broke down. He knew Blaine might come back to the room at any moment though and he didn’t want him to find him like this. Blaine didn’t deserve to deal with this too. Forcing himself to sit up, Mason starting taking deep breaths as he attempted to calm himself down. He bit at his lip as he ran his thumb over the little plastic nose on the giraffe. “I miss you, bro.” 

“I miss you too.” It was barely a whisper, but Mason could swear he heard it. His head jerked up as he looked around, but he quickly began to shake it defiantly. He whispered, “No” to himself again and again. It was only his mind and his grief playing tricks on him and he wasn’t going to let it take over again. He wasn’t. 

He couldn’t. 

[daryllsdixons-blog]

she tastes like the real thing

The sound of Beth’s breathing was the sound of stability; of a life which Daryl had never known before the world ended. And it was ironic. Ironic that in a world where the dead outnumbered the living, he felt so fucking alive with her. 

In an incredibly loud, chaotic world where tomorrow was never guaranteed – Beth was the calm. His demons still stirred inside of him – waging dangerous, tactical wars against his insecurities. His fears. Beth was an armistice, curled up against his chest, as his wild mind came reeling back from a consuming thought.

Daryl was on the cusp of being a broken man. Beth knew that, certainly. Never before had he opened himself up to a person the way he had with her. He had worked so hard to keep himself guarded, to shirk away from showcasing any sort of emotion that might give Beth the leverage that she needed to one day break him.

And that’s when he realized: you cannot break that which is already maimed.

A lifetime of abuse, followed by years of instability with his big brother Merle (who was, at times, abusive in his own way – probably without realizing. Daryl never held it against him. It was just what Merle did. Who he was.)

As much as Daryl hated Merle for leaving, Daryl took after his own brother. He left every single person that was ever on the verge of feeling something for him.

He left them before they realized that he was not worth it.

But Beth – his sweet, loving, kind girl – naked underneath a white sheet, humming lightly – even in her sleep. Beth didn’t care what kind of demons Daryl had locked away inside of him. She would fight with him until they were silenced. And when they resurfaced (which they always, always did), she’d whisper poems against his mouth until he felt safe again.

And he always did, with Beth.

Someone had once said that broken people love the deepest, and for a while – Daryl thought that was complete and utter bullshit. He’d thought broken people didn’t know how to love. Until one day, it wasn’t bullshit. He figured that maybe, if he hadn’t gone through an entire life of bullshit – he wouldn’t be able to love Beth right, and that just didn’t sit right with him. He’d gladly relive every God-awful moment of his life if it meant that he got Beth in the end.

That night in particular had been foreign territory for the both of them; they’d been sharing more than just a bed for a while. And it was fun. It was slow, at first, and gradually, they were becoming more and more familiar with the others needs and desires. They’d laugh at each other, hot mouths pressed against the other as they fumbled for each other in the dark. It was light. It was beautiful. It was so very them. 

That night, they’d made love. And it was fucking terrifying. It was there, in the way they looked at each other in the darkness of her room, desperate, hungry eyes locked onto one another. In the way she nodded gently when he asked if she wanted this – because he always, always had to ask. Daryl was an exposed nerve in the palm of Beth’s hand. She could very well silence any hopes for a future with only eight words: I could never love a monster like you.

She stirred in her sleep before her eyes fluttered open. She smiled the second her tired, blues met his. It took him a moment, but the corners of his lips twitched upward.

“Hey…” she began silently, reaching up to grab the side of his face, the traces of a concerned frown lining her lips. “Where’d you go? Come back to me…”

Daryl closed his eyes for a moment, reveling in the sensation of her hand sliding down to his bare shoulders.

“M’ right here,” he responded. “Right here.”  

[daryllsdixons-blog]

nothin’ compares, nothin’ compares to you...

It had been a while since he’d even spoken to Beth. The last couple of weeks had been agonizingly painful – full of lustful glances on Daryl’s part. It felt strange – being without her. On days when he’d finished his chores, Daryl would go out to the pond where they’d had their last kiss. And he’d just sit there, staring into the water, wondering if he’d ever feel the brush of her lips against his again. He’d wondered if she’d ever smile at him the way she’d smiled when she first saw this area. Daryl was an expert at ignoring his feelings. But with Beth, it was more difficult. People began to notice his absence at family dinners – Rick especially. And he’d started hearing rumors that Beth was seeing someone else. Maybe it was time to move on…

There’d been a camp out that night. Stupid recreational activities like this, held by Father Gabriel, to “unify the community,” or whatever bullshit excuse they’d make up to waste resources and time. Daryl had gone, only because there was absolutely nothing better to do that night. He’d been looking for an escape – a way out of his own fucking destructive thoughts. Thoughts about Beth, and her lips, and her body…

There was a woman across the fire who had been staring at Daryl for some time. Not just that night, but in general. He would’ve never noticed, had it not been for Carol pointing it out a few days back.

“Katie won’t stop starin’ at ya… maybe you should ask her out…”

“Stop,” was all that Daryl had said to that. But after she pointed it out, he just couldn’t bring himself to stop noticing. ­Despite the fact that the rest of the group was proud of Daryl for becoming a new, different man, his self-destructive nature began to take over. And he realized that he’d needed to feel something – anything, other than Beth. So Daryl Dixon used whatever little charm he had left in him.

Their eyes met across the fire, and Daryl bowed his head briefly, glancing up at her through the hair that had matted itself against his forehead. She licked her lips, smiled, and then tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth. It was suggestive in every possible way, and he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Not that time. So he tilted his head backward, signaling for her to join him. Everyone was too distracted, telling some bullshit bonfire stories about life before the world had ended.

No one would notice that Daryl had left. In fact, it wasn’t unlike him to leave halfway through these sort of things. So he stood to his feet and walked away – walked until he was behind a vacant house. She had joined him only moments after, and before much else could happen, her lips were on his neck. So the Dixon charm had worked, after all..

Everything about her body was foreign. He’d grown used to Beth’s. The small curves that subtly outlined her body. The freckles that popped up sporadically on her shoulders The single braid that was almost always in her hair. Katie had none of that – the only thing they had in common was their hair. Blonde, just like Beth’s. He forced his eyes shut and pushed Beth out of his mind one last time.

When Katie’s lips trailed up to his mouth, he pulled away before she could kiss him. That’s not what he wanted, and he figured she knew that. There was no foreplay – no kissing. Barely any touching, really. He spun her around so that her back was to him, and he pushed her against the wall. He’d heard a soft moan fall from her lips, followed by a short “yes,” and that’s all the indication needed that he should keep going.

Daryl unzipped his pants, and removed her jeans and underwear. Her hands were placed on the wall in front of her, and he pushed inside of her.

And then they fucked. It wasn’t intimate – not even slightly. Her moans and his occasional grunts were the only noises that Daryl Dixon focused on. Not the chatter of the campfire a few yards away, not the cicadas in the trees, and certainly not the sound of Beth’s voice in his head.

Daryl would occasionally reach around to squeeze her breasts, but that was it. He grounded himself with her shoulders and pounded into her relentlessly, hard and fast. And still, all he could think about was Beth. It hadn’t fucking worked.

Daryl pulled out before he was finished – he’d been doing that since before the fucking apocalypse had happened. He wasn’t taking any chances – Merle had his fair share of pregnancy scares, and that’s when a very drunken Merle advised his twelve-year-old baby brother. “Always pull out, baby brother. Can’t trust them no good whores.” And Daryl, admiring his older brother, simply nodded.

He’d finished on the back of her jeans – classy – but it could’ve been much worse. Daryl backed off of her and began to pull his pants back up. If they’d been caught – he’d never hear the fucking end of it. “Maybe you can come over later, and –“ Daryl gave her this look. What the fuck was she thinking? This would definitely not be a regular thing.

“No,” Daryl simply said, glancing over her once. “An’ don’t tell nobody, neither.”

Daryl stomped away from her, his heart pounding. It was a good release – for a few seconds. But he still felt like shit, and he still missed Beth. And that’s when Daryl fucking realized – there was no one else. There never would be. It’d only ever be Beth.

He was fucked.

[tsarevnas-blog]

when cal heard that whitney had been hurt he felt like he forgot how to breath - then when he was told it only minor it made him dizzy. he didn’t understand why they would use such a serious tone to tell him about a minor injury until they continued speaking. whitney had been temporarily relieved of his duties for reckless behaviour.

cal clenched his jaw and opened and closed his hands into fists. sure whitney could be stupid in his own stubbornness but reckless? the whitney cal knew would never do something that would endanger his squad. but then again whitney had been acting strange lately and it had cal worried. 

he hated whitney going out on hunter duties - especially when he said it was too dangerous for cal to accompany him. he didn’t always know how to cope with this worry. right now it just turned to frustration and that to anger. from what one of whitney’s squad mates had told him it sounded like whitney had purposefully put himself into more danger than he needed to be. 

cal had gone to tell rain about what had happened before he went to see whitney, maybe hoping that his presence would ground him and keep him calm. that was how he found himself leading himself towards the guard and hunter quarters with both rain and penn in tow. being a guard himself he knew his way around this area of the town well and he was thankful for how imposing his presence could be when he wanted it to be.

when he finally saw whitney he let out a breath of relief. instantly cal could tell he was okay - or at least not not okay. he looked distraught and beat up but still very much alive. 

the feeling of relief only lasted for a moment for the moment whitney looked up at him and spoke his name cal felt his worry bubble over further into frustration. 

“what were you thinking?” cal asked his voice quiet and his tone full of disbelief. “kingston told me everything. she said you basically marched yourself into a leviathan breeding ground for no reason.”  whitney was one of if not the most responsible person cal knew - he was probably the best hunter out there too and for him to be relieved of his duties for reckless behaviour what he had done must have been something extreme and noticeable. 

cal watched the older man as he stayed still in his chair, looking up at him with a pained expression. cal knew whitney long enough to know how he coped with things. he either lashed out or completely shut down and instantly from how he looked he assumed it was going to be the latter. good, cal thought, then maybe he’d actually listen to what he had to say for once.

“do you want to die?” the question was rhetorical for cal was scared of the actual answer. he watched as whitney’s gaze shifted from himself over to penn a frown only setting deeper on whitney’s mouth. “what if something actually had happened to you? did you forget that you’re a father?”

that was something he didn’t he needed to mention to whitney - anyone who knew him knew that billie was everything to whitney. if he really wanted to drive home his point he’d mention angie and how billie didn’t need to lose her father too, but that hurt too much. cal himself didn’t want to think about experiencing that kind of loss in his life again even though he mostly already was.

“i can’t believe you’d act like that whitney. you’re always going on about how no one should leave the town and how it’s too dangerous for anyone and then you do this? you basically go against what you’ve been telling me and everyone else and end up hurt.”  cal hoped the older heard the disappointment in his voice even though it didn’t seem like he was paying any attention to him at all for whitney just continued to stare at penn with the same upset expression.

“what am i meant to do if something actually happens to you?” he added quietly, more to himself now that he’d caught on that his ranting seemed to be falling onto deaf ears.

“whitney.” cal spoke harshly just wanted to gain the other’s attention, “can you stop staring at penn and actually listen to what i’m trying to say to you?”

he watched as whitney jumped in his seat now looking up at cal like he’d popped out of nowhere instead of had been there for the past few minutes. when the older man didn’t show any signs of speaking he reached to pinch the bridge of his nose letting out his breath in a long sigh. “y’know what? i should just go. i need to go cool down or something.” cal dropped his hand from his face feeling frustrated. “and it’s obvious you don’t want to listen to me right now. ”

without saying anything else and giving one last look to whitney he turned on his feet and left the room. it wasn’t that cal was actually angry at whitney he was more frustrated with how he’d been behaving, frustrated that he’d almost gotten himself killed and his worry only fueled his frustration more. cal rarely ever was truly angry in his life but when he was it lasted and this was the first time it was properly aimed at whitney’s direction.

maybe he should’ve stayed and tried to get whitney to explain what had happened instead of accusing him of the things he had been. but it was too late and he had already left and if he went back now he didn’t know what he’d say to whitney. 

for the greater half of his life whitney had been like his big brother (then he married cal’s older sister and they were a family). he already lost his big sister he couldn’t lose whitney too. every time whitney left the town cal worried he wouldn’t ever comeback and it was moments like this that made him remember that one of his biggest fears was a very realistic one.