Caleb Sykes: Longing
Fandom: Horizon: An American Saga
CW: Physical violence, arranged marriage, injuries vaguely described, blood, almost DV
Imagine being Junior Sykes' wife while your affections have always been for Caleb:
1.2k
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Watching Junior constantly manhandle his brother isn’t something I enjoy seeing, the blood spilled on the floor and staining too many surfaces has left me nauseous since the beginning.
Forced to pick up the pieces after he's left Caleb feeling like he's worth less than the mud he scrapes off his boots.
The confrontations between the two were worsening, this particular one being rather violent; forced to watch from the porch as Junior's size eventually gives him the upper hand.
"That's enough." I call out, nails digging into the wood railing as my heart rate spikes, the sight of Junior making no move to back off causes a burning pain to erupt throughout my chest. Nearly stumbling in my haste to reach them, hands tightly fisting the shoulders of his coat before throwing him back. My actions had caught him off-guard, allowing my overall weak attack to push him backwards to the ground, I try not to wince at the mud now smeared along his clothes.
Shaking off the fear, hoping I look stern while standing between the two; Caleb still lying behind me whilst Junior now stands. He looks pissed, gazing at the mud marring his hands before his eyes flit accusatorially to my shaking form. He charges forward, and for a tense moment I feel my heart stutter, wincing away with closed eyes while stubbornly - or foolishly - refusing to move.
He's standing before me, invading my space in a way that demands submission, but I force myself to hold my ground; backing up would just set him off. Leaning down, bringing his face close enough I can feel his breathing, enraged eyes surely glaring down at me.
"Go inside." Voice a deep, grating sound, an order offering me an escape. He's terrifying and he is well aware of it, but the thought of allowing the further infliction of pain on Caleb causes an uncharacteristic confidence to arise.
"He's had enough." Clipped words, willing my voice to not lilt with the fear racking my body, that intrinsic voice in my head screaming danger as I steadily meet my husband's eyes.
"What did you just say?" It's a rhetorical question, his large hand snapping forward to wrap around my neck, heavily weighing against my collarbones. The hold is taut, inducing no pain but showing the threat plainly. He wanted me to know my place, that he could harm me… that he could kill me.
"Junior, please… You've won already, you've spilled his blood… He's had enough." I whimper, trying to withhold myself from trembling, though I know I've failed as Junior's eyes soften. His hand slowly pulling back from my neck before he too moves away, the space allowing me to finally breathe, his presence - especially when angered - is overwhelming, a dominating air that leaves me nauseous from anxiety.
"Fine." Scowling at Caleb before marching off to God knows where. I ensure he's gone from my sight and that the other men have continued their work before finally allowing myself to turn.
"Oh, Caleb…" A muted cry at the sight of him, his pained expression worsening with each movement. Blood seeping from wounds along his temple, jaw, lip and nose, hair and clothing ragged from the altercation while his hat was haphazardly tossed aside.
I have to be careful, any hint of affection would be relayed to Junior, and I'm not sure whether that would end in Caleb's death or mine.
Arm outstretched to help him up, trying to school my expression as his bewildered eyes raise, focusing on my hand before trailing up to my face. He looks lost, confused and with so many words to say, yet forcing them down. Accepting my assistance tentatively, needing support when finally standing as the pain in his ribs takes its toll.
"Are you alright?" Voice quiet, not wanting to startle him as it seems his mind is elsewhere. My only answer is a subtle shake of his head, turning away to spit out some blood before allowing me to lead him inside. I try not to feel calm in that moment as he is very much injured, but I can't help the rush of affection at finally being so close to him after so long, his faint cologne and the scent of his shampoo lulling me into a softer disposition.
"You need to stop doing this, doll." He mutters as I dab at the blood dripping down his face.
"Stop doing what?" I reply, mind barely listening, focused on his injuries.
"This. You finding me in the aftermath. Never mind the fact you got involved this time."
"Why would I stop that? I can't leave you bleeding on the floor." Huffing in disbelief, trying to ignore what he's asking of me.
"You need to stop, because if you keep doing this, Junior will turn that anger on you. He nearly did today!" Caleb exclaims, hands raising to grasp mine in a delicate hold, halting my movements, eyes clouded with a concerned anguish.
"I'd much rather it be me than you bleeding." Words a gentle whisper as I move forward to caress his face, glowering at the cuts as the memory of how they got there resurfaces.
"You're his wife, not mine." He rebukes, though there is no true bite to his words, wearing a forlorn expression as he avoids my gaze.
"That ain't your fault, my parents made that choice despite my pleading. Their decision doesn't erase the fact that I've been in love with you for years." My statement firm, allowing no space to sow disbelief, his hands dropping from my wrists to lay in his lap.
"Don't say that out loud, if anyone were to know… Junior would skin us alive if he knew the truth."
"Then let's leave!" I blurt, desperate to escape this environment, this family and the marriage I never agreed to.
"Leave?" Shocked that I would hint at such a notion.
"Yes! Take me somewhere far away, overseas even, I care not for the location as long as you're there." I remark, smiling widely at the madness of my words.
"The whole family would be hunting us." A grim yet true statement, but it does little to deter me.
"I would give anything to just have you back in my arms, Caleb, even if it was just for one day. Anything to have those winter evenings where we'd slip away from our families, sipping hot chocolate like it was scandalous." Grinning cheekily, leaning forward to allow our noses to brush.
"… It was scandalous." Caleb replied, laughing weakly as his hand cups my jaw, thumb brushing against my cheek with a smile I haven’t seen in days forming softly.
"You, the bankers daughter, running off to spend the evening alone with one of the Sykes brothers? Doll, had anyone found out, your father would've wanted me shot. Don't matter that we were just drinking hot chocolate, their assumptions would've run wild."
"Well, their assumptions would've been right later on." I grin, face pushing into his hand, enjoying it's steady warmth.
"Yeah, they were." He slowly leans in, our lips brushing softly after 3 years of forced distance despite always being so close. He was careful, sweet in the way he pulled me closer to deepen the affection. Pulling away slowly, unwilling to be more than a few inches apart as his hands drift down to graze comfortingly against my sides.
"Alright, we'll escape this place, just… give me some time. I'm not going to put you in danger with a half-assed plan." He mutters, a new liveliness sparking behind his eyes.
"I'll wait for you, always." Pushing closer into his embrace, nuzzling against his neck as, for the first time in years, I finally feel safe again.
