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thatbluegibson · 6 years

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CH 80

"Oh fuck... I forgot to call Andy."

Liz rolled to sit on the side of the bed and grabbed her phone, swatting Dave's hand when he snaked it around her waist and between her thighs.

"Hey, it's me... yeah... yeah we're good. It's all yours tonight... we're on the same floor, other side... okay, goodnight, Andy."

Dave frowned, wondering why she even needed to make that call. "You got your own room?"

She looked back at him and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Well, I kinda ambushed you."

"Liz," he sat up and turned on the light so he could see her better. "Did you honestly think I would turn you away?"

"I don't know...," she muttered, looking down. It was almost 3 in the morning and she didn't have the energy for this discussion. "I just didn't want to assume. I didn't know what I was going to walk into."

He sighed and scratched his beard a little. "I guess I deserve that." He was a serial cheater. He wasn't proud of it, but he had to admit to it since it had been well documented in the press, much to his horror.

"No..." she crawled back up the bed and into his lap. "That's not... Dave, please look at me." He kept his head down, staring at the sheet next to them. "Dave," she tried again, this time more sternly and he sighed, putting distance between them by leaning on the headboard. "That's not what I meant. I'm not accusing you of anything..." the memory of his hand on hers on the icy rail flooded her mind again. "Unless you have something you'd like to confess."

"For once, I don't," he said truthfully. There had been several gorgeous women trying to get his attention on this tour and he had been tempted, he was human after all, but it never went past a fleeting glance in the VIP room. "That was kind of my thing back in the day, though."

"Oh, I'm well aware," she said quietly, a half smile pulled at her lips as she reached across him to the nightstand.

Dave panicked, watching her flip through her phone. Someone had obviously said something to make her think he had cheated, though he had no idea who it could have been. "Please don't go," he whispered when she tapped on Andy's name, knowing that his voice would break if he spoke any louder. He hadn't done anything wrong, but he had always braced himself for the karma that would eventually hit him from all the past indiscretions he had gotten away with before she came around. She answered his plea by moving off his lap to sit next to him and nestling her head into his shoulder. Finding the picture Andy had sent her, she handed him the phone.

He stared at the image of them standing in the freezing rain with a metal fence between them and his arm around her, trying to remember anything about that night. All those stadiums and arenas, they all looked the same to him anymore. He knew it was Seattle only because he remembered Andy's story and he knew it was post-2003 because of the wedding ring on his finger. They looked so young; her hair was a lighter red and much longer, and her own engagement ring gleamed in the camera's flash as she gripped the metal rail separating their bodies. He looked a little drunk, a little tired and the realization of why she was showing him this hit him all at once.

"Did I hit on you?"

Liz laughed softly and took the phone from him. "You absolutely did. You said it was a shame that I was wearing a ring."

His eyes went wide and he turned to see her face. "Did we-?"

She laughed and shook her head against the pillow. "No. I turned you down then I got blackout drunk and had Andy tattoo me."

"Liz...," he started. She was remarkably relaxed for a woman that knew her boyfriend was a habitual adulterer. He would expect her to be agitated, maybe angry that he was admitting to being weak when it came to a pretty face and a willing nature, but she was completely at ease next to him.

"Just...," her hand found his on top of the blankets. "Please don't do that to me. Don't let me sit at home wondering. Or at least be honest with me if you do."

He wanted to tell her that he would never cheat on her, but he knew it would sound patronizing. He had said the same to Jordyn and had done it anyway and he wanted to be better. "Okay."

Dave stared at the closed bedroom door, barely listening to the journalist sitting across from him and Taylor droning on in German to her assistant. He had always been an early riser, but at that moment all he wanted was to run back into that bedroom and sleep for another six hours wrapped up in Liz. They had fallen asleep just as the sky was turning a steel grey and Dave had only managed just a couple hours before Taylor was knocking on the suite's door. He had let Liz sleep, sneaking out of the room without her even stirring.

The journalist finally began her interview, speaking to them in a thick German accent about the tour. Dave shot Taylor a quick glance and their wordless conversation meant they both knew it would be the same interview flow with all the same questions. He would answer the first few, usually about the songwriting process or how much alcohol was digested backstage, then would pass the next few on once Taylor finally decided on whatever awkward position he would sit in. The occasional curveball was lobbed at them, asking what they thought of Belgium or a local band but Dave couldn't remember the last time he had actually had to think about an answer before giving it. He felt himself drift into automatic pilot, answering each question with his usual humor and passion for music when suddenly the journalist cleared her throat and angled her body away from Taylor to face Dave head on. Oh shit, he thought, Here it comes.

"Elizabeth Colbert has joined you on this part of the tour and we are all wondering, how is she? We have seen her out with you, but no word on her condition or..."

Dave's smile faded and his eyes darted to Gus, who had been busy going over customs paperwork at the small dining table between the sitting area and the bedroom. He looked up and shook out his papers, startling the journalist's assistant and giving the kid a harsh glare while Dave answered. "You'll have to ask her. I'm only commenting on the band today," he said bluntly.

"But she is your girlfriend, yes?" the woman was oblivious to the tidal shift in the room, or maybe she just didn't care.

Taylor flopped back against the couch in annoyance when he realized his part of the questioning was done, sending a surge of anxiety through Dave. "Yes, but again we aren't discussing that today."

"Things are quite serious between you two? She-"

Taylor shot forward and snatched a glass of water off the coffee table. "So do you need me here or are we just going to sit around gossiping like housewives?"

She sneered at Taylor, then immediately tried to hide it, but the damage was already done. Taylor threw the back of his hand into Dave's chest, a little reminder that while they were cool, the interview was over and he jumped up from the couch, storming through the bedroom door where Dave just hoped Liz was up and dressed. Gus lumbered over and reminded the woman about the parameters of the interview while Dave added that if Liz's name was brought up again, he would refuse any further interviews from whatever publication she was affiliated with.

"I'm freelance," she insisted with a smug smile.

"Then if you want anyone to publish you again, you'll stay within our required talking points," Gus said sternly and dropped onto the couch where Taylor had been.

The woman's face went pale at the thinly veiled threat and she awkwardly shuffled through her papers to find points that didn't include any actress girlfriend. With Taylor gone and Gus now taking his place, Dave began to repair the tone of the interview, lest the band be dubbed another rude American rock band in the morning papers, and quickly worked to get this journalist the fuck out of there all before Taylor said something to Liz that would make her think she was becoming a distraction. She would book the next flight home if she knew she had caused anyone in the band's immediate radius grief and Dave didn't think he could handle saying goodbye to her so soon.

Twenty minutes later, Gus gave him the nod to escape the interview and he slipped into the silent, empty bedroom. Liz and Taylor's muffled voices drifted through the closed balcony door where they sat drinking coffee and watching the barges move up and down the river. Liz seemed relaxed, still in her white bathrobe with her bare feet propped on a little table next to Taylor's. Dave could tell Taylor was still agitated by the way his shoulders were hunched and he watched them for a moment, trying to gauge their moods. Then, Taylor suddenly burst out laughing. His shoulders dropped to their normal position and he casually pointed at Liz while he replied with something that made her laugh as well. She stood and stretched, taking her empty cup and Taylor's before coming back into the bedroom.

"Lurker," she laughed softly when she saw Dave watching them and crossed the room to the little breakfast bar. "Taylor told me what happened in there. I'm so sorry."

Dave sat on the edge of the bed and scrubbed a hand down his face, working on such little sleep and one terrible cup of coffee wasn't his favorite. "It's not your fault."

"Here," Liz held two fresh cups of coffee, shoving one under his nose for him to take. He assumed the other was for her, but she turned on her heel and opened the glass balcony door again, handing the cup to Taylor with a smile. They spoke for a moment, too quietly for Dave to hear when she gently put her hand on his shoulder on her way back into the room. Flashing Dave a sympathetic smile, she headed into the closet where she called out to him. "I had Sophie release a statement so the real pressing questions should stop."

He resisted the urge to join her when her robe flew out the closet door and landed in a heap on the carpet. "What did it say?"

"Check my phone."

Dave looked over at her phone laying on the nightstand and let his finger hover over the screen before swiping. Looking at her phone without her next to him felt strange, especially after their conversation the night before. She wanted him to be honest and transparent with her, but he felt like he was intruding or spying when the screen illuminated and displayed her email including a typical press release document.

For Immediate Release

London - Ms. Elizabeth Colbert is currently under physician ordered respite care while in Europe. She would like to thank the doctors, nurses, and staff at the facilities where she was so well cared for, the cast and crew of the film she had been working on as well as her close friends and family that have been by her side throughout this ordeal. Ms. Colbert would especially like to thank her fans that have expressed their concern, love and well wishes in these past several weeks.

Ms. Colbert is not granting interview or appearance requests and asks that any print publication, television programme, etc. please utilize the proper channels when information is deemed necessary. She is asking that her privacy and the privacy of her friends and family be respected at this time.

Ms. Colbert is looking forward to an eventual return to Los Angeles and to work.

Before he even had a chance to reply to her, his phone chimed in his pocket. It was the Google alert chime he had set to her name and he didn't even need to check it to know that the international news had already picked up the statement and was publishing articles like rapid fire.

Liz wandered out of the closet and Dave looked up at her as she pulled a loose sweatshirt over her leggings. "You put out an international press release just to save me the grief of dealing with Taylor's attitude?" he asked.

"Honestly, I'm a little pissed at myself for not thinking to do it sooner. I don't know if it'll work, but it was worth a shot," she said. "Is she still out there? Cause I can-"

She was interrupted by Gus flinging the bedroom door open and leaning against the frame. "Pack your shit, guys. The train to Paris leaves in two hours," he muttered, staring down at the paperwork in his hands. "You need a ticket, Elizabeth?"

"Yes. She's staying with us until we go home," Taylor answered as he stepped in from the balcony.

Liz jumped into action, hurrying over to Dave and taking her phone from his hand. "Wait, let me call my manager really quick so she can pay you guys-"

"Oh fuck off with your Hollywood blood money," Gus laughed loudly and shook his head. "I'm not sure if these two jokers told you, but the band is doing okay financially. See you three in the lobby in an hour." He slammed the door behind him, leaving Dave and Taylor to deal with her reaction.

Liz let out a shaky breath and carefully sat on the bed next to Dave. "Holy shit, he's scary."

Dave and Taylor looked at each other and burst out laughing.

#ThatBlueGibson

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pixieposts · 4 years

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Broken Like Me

TW: alcohol abuse, drug use (weed), mentions of past drug addiction, intrusive thoughts, suicidal idealization

Caleb Widogast did not want to die. Not in the slightest, he knew what “wanting to die” felt like, and this wasn’t it.

He had wanted to die when his parents burned in their beds because he ratted out the wrong professor. He had wanted to die when he was living on the streets, veins pumped with enough poison to turn every face into those of his family.

He had wanted to die when Veth had taken that poison away and he had been forced back into his own mind for the first time in years.

So no, Caleb Widogast did not want to die.

His reason for being in this dingy bar, on a stool older than he was, with yet another double of whiskey in front of him was much less dramatic. He just didn’t want to think anymore. He didn’t want to think about how despite having more money than he had ever dreamed of, and a job he genuinely loved, and a name that was well known in Arcane circles, he was miserable.

Yes, his best friend had moved not just out of Zadash but right out of the Empire to be with her husband, then gotten pregnant and stopped calling. And yes, he had a hell of a messy break-up not three weeks later with the drow he thought he would spend his life with. And yes, his other best friend was looking at him with a mix of pity and anger that she nearly always wore around him now… but he didn’t want to die.

So, that was something.

“Caleb” Beau grumbled, tugging the empty glass away from him “go home, you’re drunk as fuck and I know for a fact that you work tomorrow”

“So d’you” his words were slurred, but that was to be expected

“Yeah, but I’m not drunk” she sighed “let me call you a cab”

“Nein Beauregard” he glared at both of her “I am fine, wunderbar even. All I need is for you to refill that for me”

He tapped the glass in her hand, missing and getting her hand instead. Ah well, the point would still get across. She rolled her eyes, but refilled the glass anyway.

“Danke” he downed half of it and stood up “I will be back, do not take that away”

She snapped a salute before flipping him off, he managed a smirk in response.

He stumbled out the door into the cold winter air, it had started snowing lightly while he’d been inside… he would need to pick up some Winterscrest gifts to send to Veth and her family. He wondered drunkenly what on Exandria you bought for a six month old while he lit his cigarette, savouring the first drag. He leaned against the crumbling brick wall and stared up at the cloudy sky, he could just make out the nearly full moon above him.

Caleb had always liked winter, it was colder up north where he was from and the farm always looked like a post card by the time he got home for the winter holidays. It had been a beautiful spot.

He sighed, putting out his half-finished smoke and flicking it into the garbage can. So much for not thinking. He sat back on his stool, idly spinning the glass in his hand while Beau took a phone call. He was tired, so damn tired. He should go home and sleep, shouldn’t have come out tonight at all really. Beau was right, he had work tomorrow and he was supposed to be guest lecturing in the afternoon as well. He laid is head on the bar, pillowed by one bent arm and looked watched Beau nod at her phone call.

He was an idiot, why did she still put up with him. He was a drunk.

Hadn’t always been one, but he could admit to himself that he certainly was now. Non-drunks didn’t spend every night at a dive bar drinking cheap whiskey until they couldn’t speak common anymore.

He sighed again.

“Have we reached the sad phase already? That usually takes longer” Beau half-teased as she walked over “Also you might not want to lay there, I ran out of bleach until tomorrow”

He shrugged “was that Gustav?”

She nodded, pushing a bowl of pretzels towards him. He sat up and took one, taking a bite obediently

“How is his husband doing?”

“Better he says, but he’s still going to be off for a while” she pushed a glass of water to him now and waited while he took a sip “he hired some extra help, some new guy to take the day shift since I’ve gotta get back to the Soul”

He hummed in response, finishing off his whiskey and following it with the rest of the glass of water. The next few hours are a drunken blur until finally Beau is pushing him into a cab and giving his address.

He stumbled in the door of his apartment, glaring around at it. He had moved in a few weeks after Veth left their old place, unable to stand looking at the walls they had painted and the furniture they had thrifted. This place was much nicer, objectively, but he hadn’t done anything other than move his stuff in. Jester had helped him pick out furniture, everything was understated and comfortable. Warm dark wood and soft browns and greens. The only thing he had really picked himself had been the over-large leather armchair. Beau called it his ‘professor chair’ and had shown up with a green plaid throw blanket the next day that he dutifully folded over the back of it.

He kicked off his boots, tossed his old coat on the hook and made for his room. He would shower in the morning to help wake himself up for work.

———————————————————————————————————–

Fjord needs this job. Like, needs it or he’ll be out on the street type of needs it. The bar was the only place to call him back when he applied. He’s not particularly surprised, having spent his entire teen and young adult life on shipping vessels doesn’t make for a lot of job experience. But he has his bar tending license and he’s broken up enough brawls at the shipyard to know he could handle drunk college kids. The bar looks like any college bar in any college town. It’s a two story building between a pawn shop and another bar, the wooden sign is faded but clearly had been bright to start. The blinds are drawn and the windows have the same metal bars on them as the other businesses. He was greeted at the door by a very tall, very pale woman with mismatched eyes and a much softer voice than he had been expecting.

He’d never admit it, but the woman walking him through his tour is terrifying. She’s tanned, ripped but in that lean way that if she wasn’t in a literal sports bra and sweats, he’d never have known. Her dark hair is up in a top knot, showing the buzzed undercut and the intricate tattoo on the back of her neck. But it’s the eyes, sharp and pale blue, giving him a look that clearly says she’s sizing him up. Somehow, he doesn’t doubt she could kick his ass in a fight. She had introduced herself as Beau, gripped his forearm to shake instead of his hand, and started the tour without so much as a ‘nice to meet you’.

The inside of the bar is much like he expected, dark mahogany wood tables and chairs (all of them scuffed with years of use), a dance floor and small stage at the far end. The actual bar-top itself ran along the side closest to the door, bathrooms were down a small hallway at the end. There was a small office upstairs with a live security feed going on the old tv.

They made their way back down, Beau locking the office door first. She leaned up against the bar and he followed suit.

“So, you’ll mainly be tending bar” Beau started, indicating the wall of booze “you’ll cover for Yasha on her days off though”

Fjord nodded “Yeah, no problem at all”

Beau looked back at him curiously “where are you from anyway?”

“Port Damali, or around there anyway”

Fjord was used to the question; his accent was always considered odd in the empire.

“Huh, cool cool.” She looked over the currently empty bar and sighed “okay so…”

He raised an eyebrow, that didn’t sound good

“We’ve got a couple regulars you should be aware of” she laughed at whatever his expression must have shown “nothing crazy, they’re good folks just… you should know when to call the cab”

He nodded, that sounded a lot like the bars on the coast if he was honest.

“So there’s Reani, she has a halo” he chose not to comment on that “she’s sweet, but after a bit too much wine you’ll need to send her home before her inner law major comes out and she starts trying to either arrest or psychoanalyse people.”

He smirked, oh so this bar had those kinds of regulars.

“Then there’s Keg, she can get pretty rowdy after too much beer”

He nodded

“And then… well…” she seemed to hesitate now, and he furrowed his brows at her. Did this bar actually have a ‘problem’ regular?

Beau sighed “there’s Caleb” he nodded “nerdy ginger, Zemnian accent, only orders whiskey” she looked off to the side now “He only gets cut off if he stops speaking common or passes out”

There was a pause.

“I…I’m sorry, what?”

Who the hell got to stick around to the point of passing out?

Beau rubbed the back of her neck as her expression turned some mix of embarrassment and sadness.

“He… The owner, Gus, cuts him extra slack ‘cause he never causes a scene” she looked at him almost pleadingly “he’s a really good guy, he just… he’s been through a lot”

Fjord nodded, trying to be compassionate. The guy was a friend of the owner, and got a little extra slack, it was fine.

“Just…” Beau paused again, biting her lip “if he… call me or Yasha if he seems too far past that. Don’t let him get in the cab without one of us”

Oh. Oh… Fjord understood now. This Caleb was a friend of the bar, not just the owner. That made more sense. He nodded, taking her and Yasha’s cell numbers and adding them to his phone.

The next hour was spent with Beau making sure he knew where everything was located behind the bar, and making sure he knew the lock code for the employee entrance at the back.

—

It was two weeks before he worked the bar on a night when the mysterious Caleb came in. Fjord was wiping down some glasses when he saw a man sit down at the end of the bar, farthest from the door. He was pale, dressed like a librarian with fine ginger hair tied back in a low bun. Fjord set down the glass and walked over, a smile on his face.

“Well hey there, what can I get’cha?”

The man looked up at him and Fjord felt all the air go out of his lungs at once. Eyes the colour of the ocean at twilight looked up at him from the pale face, with bags that were so dark they nearly looked fake.

“Hallo there” the soft accent only made it harder for him to breath “you are new… you must be Fjord, ja?”

The way this mans accent caught ever so slightly on his name was instantly almost too much. Fjord just nodded as he remembered Beaus description from weeks before

“I am, you must be Caleb” he threw the human his most charming smile, tusks and all “I’m pleased to meet you…whiskey, right?”

Caleb smiled now, or what Fjord assumed counted for a smile… it was really more a slight tilt of the head combined with the smallest quirk of his lips.

“Ja, Beauregard has warned you about me I suppose?”

Fjord shrugged, pulling the golden liquor off the shelf, and pouring just a bit more than a double

“She said I’d meet you eventually”

Caleb took the drink and held it up in cheers “how long have you been here Mister Fjord?” he drained it in one long drink. Fjord tried not to stare.

“Just about three weeks, mostly the day shift though” he refilled the empty glass “no need for that ‘mister’ stuff here, just Fjord is fine”

Caleb eyed him over the rim of his refilled glass, and Fjord fought the instinct to shiver under the blue stare.

“Well then Fjord, I am pleased to finally meet you… hopefully we will see more of each other”

Fjord smiled again “sounds good to me, Beau’s been taking more shifts at the Soul anyway”

Caleb nodded, his expression going from calculating to fond so quickly it was shocking

“She deserves it, she has worked very hard to earn her place there… it will be nice to see her move up in life”

“You care about her”

Caleb smirked down into his nearly empty glass, Fjord couldn’t help the shock at how quickly the man drank.

“Ja, she is one of two people who have known me at my worst and continue to stay with me, I want the best for her”

Oh, that explained why Beau had been so adamant about Caleb not being kicked out, there was something else going on there.

Fjord refilled his glad “she seems like good folk to me”

Caleb did in fact stay until nearly it was nearly closing time, he was quiet at first but Fjord kept up a steady stream of chatter and questions when he wasn’t serving other customers. He noticed that the ginger never really smiled when he talked… the most Fjord could get were those little half smirks or a laugh that was more like a huff.

He didn’t really know why he wanted Caleb to smile, he just had a feeling that it would be worth it.

Well… that, and Fjord had always been a sucker for a man with blue eyes.

He learned that Caleb was some kind of prodigy, graduating university at 20 (having started at 16). He had lived in Zadash since his graduation, but only started working for the school five years ago. He claimed not to remember the first three years after his graduation at all, and the way his hands had started to shake had stopped Fjord from pressing.

He wrote a book, apparently, and also had “about a dozen, maybe” published research papers.

In return for all of this, Fjord told him about his life at sea. Caleb had brightened up then, asking questions about what it had been like to spend so much time on the water. Had asked if he missed it.

He did, a little, but after Vandran… After Sabien… he couldn’t go back.

He hadn’t told Caleb that though.

———————————————————————————————————–

Caleb found himself heading for the bar earlier these days. Part of it was the added stress of the new courses the university had asked him to teach… but if he was honest with himself (and who else could he be honest with these days) part was also… Fjord.

The half-orc had been a pleasant surprise, he was funny and charismatic, and seemed genuinely interested in Caleb’s work.

Two days after they met, Caleb had gone into the bar a few hours earlier, almost smiling when he saw amber eyes look up at him. He had taken his usual seat at the otherwise empty bar, Fjord pouring him a drink before leaning on his forearms and smiling at him.

The man did have a great smile.

“Afternoon Caleb, didn’t think I’d get to see you today, Beau’s gonna be here any time”

“I am lucky my class ended early today then hm?”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one” Fjord winked and refilled his glass

They spent the last hour of Fjord’s shift talking, and Caleb drank much slower than he usually would as the other man all but interrogated him about his new classes. Beau waved, smirking when she arrived, taking her spot behind the bar and shooing Fjord away.

Caleb sighed as the other man headed for the back, downing the rest of his drink. At least he would have more time to drink now.

“Not excited to see your best friend hm?” Beau teased, refilling his glass “I see how it is, you like the new guy better”

He smirked at her “well, you have to admit he’s much better looking”

She threw a drying rag at him, along with a string of her best curses.

“Oh, so we are allowed to cuss out the customers then, I meant to ask”

They both looked over to see Fjord leaning up against the bar and smiling at them. Beau laughed as Caleb took the moment of distraction to throw the rag back at her.

“Only this customer, ‘cause he’s an ass”

“Takes one to know one” he retorted, flicking a pretzel at her

“Oh real mature, such a very clever answer from the local genius. See what I have to deal with Fjord?”

Fjord was laughing now, a deep rumbling laugh that matched his voice. Caleb finished another drink as the still chuckling man took the bar stool next to him.

“How long have you two known each other? I would swear you were related if I didn’t know better”

“Ja, Beauregard here is my long-lost annoying sister, you have discovered our secret”

“Nah, this old man is secretly my real dad who ran off and left me with the shit one”

Caleb scoffed in mock outrage “I am not that old, Scheisse” he turned to Fjord, sighing “I do not know why I still come here, honestly”

He flinched as Beau flicked him with her towel “It’s cause you love me dumbass, you know it” she refilled his glass “and who else will listen to you rant about arcane theory all night?”

She turned to Fjord “want a drink, or has the grumpy old man who haunts the bar scared you off?”

Caleb sputtered indignantly, though it was mostly for show. He was, after all, a grumpy old man who haunted the bar.

Fjord chuckled “sure, just a beer is fine”

They drank in silence for a while as more people started to arrive, Caleb pulled out his notebook and flipped to the page he had been working on that afternoon.

“What’cha got there?”

He looked over to see Fjord looking back curiously and felt something in his chest loosen.

“Well,” he began, sliding the book closer to the half-orc and leaning in “I am working on a new spell”

The hours had gone by in a blur, not the usual drunken blur of his nights at the bar, but one of conversation and explanation. Caleb found himself talking more than he had in ages (not counting his lectures), and at the end of the night his tab had been far lower. He went home, choosing to walk the short distance instead of getting a cab, and fell asleep without his usual tossing and turning.

And so, their new tradition was born. He still went to the bar every day (which Beau claimed was “unhealthy”) but he left before closing and his bills stayed lower. This new combination of Fjord’s company (because Caleb couldn’t deny that it was Fjords company that had changed his routine) and his whiskey was doing what the whiskey alone hadn’t in weeks.

He didn’t think. The angry voice in his head was muted and his nightmares stayed away… it was a nice change.

Of course, as nice as his evenings had become, his mind was still as it had always been. Which he realized when, one morning on a rare day off he was reaching for a knife to cut up some fruit for breakfast. He grabbed the first one his hands touched, an old steak-knife that had come over from the old apartment

Stab. End it.

He sighed, put the knife back in the drawer and tossed the fruit back in the fridge. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

———————————————————————————————————–

“Mister Caleb!” Fjord greeted, a month after he had met the man. He had realized that on top of being attractive, the wizard had been downplaying his academic achievements that first night. He had written dozens of papers on Arcana (most of which Fjord had read on his off time), along with having created a spell that allowed for permanent transfiguration of a persons form… and now he was a guest professor at Zadash University.

The thing was… none of that really mattered as far as Fjord was concerned. Because despite all of it, Caleb was polite, kind and just… genuinely good to everyone who spoke to him.

“Guten Abend Fjord, you’ve had a good day I hope?”

Fjord nodded, pouring his usual just-a-bit-more than a double and sliding it over before leaning on the counter.

“So, what brilliant stuff have you been up to today?”

Caleb sighed, taking a long sip from his glass before responding

“Today I dealt with confused first years and also answered several angry emails from my publisher”

Fjord paused, refilling his glass out of habit

“Why was the publisher angry?”

Caleb smirked ruefully at him “Well, it turns out that there are several free versions of my research papers floating around, allowing students to use them without paying an exorbitant fee” he shot the double back like it was nothing, and Fjord tried not to watch his throat as he swallowed “and the publisher did not appreciate my response to the situation”

Fjord cleared his throat “wh-what response was that?”

Caleb looked him in the eye and smirked “I told them I didn’t care, and that I have no interest in pursuing legal action”

He winked, leaning in conspiratorially and Fjords stomach flipped

“What she doesn’t know… is that I am the one leaking everything”

Fjord felt the smile build across his face. This man… he was something else.

They spent the next several hours talking, Fjord finding himself leaning across the bar as the human described his most recent research paper. Fjord loved magic, and Caleb loved talking about it. It didn’t hurt that at one point the man got frustrated and tugged the hair tie out of his hair, sending a cascade of ginger waves over his shoulders and making Fjord stutter.

“Caleb, I gotta ask” he started tentatively

Caleb hummed in response, too-blue eyes catching his

“What in the hells are you wasting your time here for? You’ve gotta be the smartest person I’ve ever met”

Caleb eyed him for a moment, draining the rest of his glass before he smiled one of his new, tentative smiles, tilting his head to expose the long column of pale neck.

“Sometimes I just need to… not think anymore” Caleb looked up at him through long lashes, mouth parted slightly “and… I’ve been thinking lately…” he paused, worrying his bottom lip “if you should ever find yourself in a similar situation” he pulled out a gods damned fountain pen, wrote a phone number on his napkin and pushed it across the bar “give me a call ja?”

Fjord took the napkin, blinking in surprise as Caleb stood and headed for the door.

“He likes you” Beau sounded surprised as she walked over, watching her friend leave.

“I mean, he’s a nice guy… even if he does drink like a fish”

She eyed him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if she should say whatever she was thinking

“He’s… been through a lot of shit” She pulled a glass over and started cleaning it “drinking isn’t the best way to deal, but it’s better than others… and honestly he doesn’t drink nearly as much when you’re on shift”

He raised and eyebrow at her and she shrugged

“I haven’t had to pour him into a cab since you started, which is a distinct improvement”

She smirked, looking at him out of the corner of her eye “and I don’t see you throwing that away” she tilted her head towards the napkin in his hand “so I guess you like him too”

He shrugged, the truth was that he did like Caleb, how could he not? Even with the clear drinking problem he had been nothing but nice. And he was smart, and handsome… and fucking funny when he wanted to be.

He looked down at the napkin for a moment before pulling out his phone and adding it in.

“What the hell, gotta take a chance sometime” he muttered as he hit the little save button.

“Hell yeah!” Beau said responded, punching his shoulder lightly “just as a side note”

He looked over at her, she was adding the clean glass to the stacks beneath the bar

“You’re my friend Fjord, I like you… but if you hurt him, I’ll punch you so hard your ancestors will feel it, cool?”

He smirked “yeah, sounds good”

#this is my angst fic #tw alcohol #tw mentions of drug use #tw suicidal ideation #widofjord #critical role fanfiction

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