Why is it so dark all a sudden?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/73015216/chapters/232511101

Rating: Explicit

When Lucien had kissed him in apology and said, "Sorry dear, the condom broke," after he knotted Caleb's ass, Caleb had been more worried about having to do another STD screening, no matter the reassurances Lucien gave about being clean. He did not expect the nightmare which followed. Or in which Mollymauk is a parasitic entity that is a terrible cross between a sexually transmitted illness and those viruses that make zombie slugs. Day twenty-one: //rimming//forced orgasm//monster fucking

Local Zemnian Man Endures The Horrors (TM)

what if I wrote that instead chat. What if I wrote about Caleb showing up to the hospital and not recognizing the man he once loved. The one he married and was happy with before it all went so wrong. What if I wrote his guilt and his dispare and his vindication.

what if I wrote about Lucien waking up, but he doesn’t remember anything chat. What if all he knew was “Empty”, what if he cralwed out of what was supposed to be his grave with no understanding of who he used to be.

what if there was months of rehabilitation, cognitive therapy, tests, and Lucien at twenty five is not only freshly divorced with no support system, but had been diagnosed with traumatic amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything—he has a traumatic brain injury. He has no reference for currency, who he is, how society functions.

what if Caleb, first driven by guilt as he learns that Lucien was hit on the way to Caleb’s house—their old house—with flowers in the back seat and Caleb’s favourite dessert (a letter to be left on his front porch, not an apology, because Lucien never apologizes, but something else. Maybe something too sweet to say to Caleb’s face, maybe something about how he missed his stupid face in the mornings or regretted the fact that they got the bloody divorce in the first place), spends hours at his bedside knowing that for all their acrimony, they were each others once.

what if all of Caleb’s friends think he’s foolish, making a mistake for a man who never cared for him the way he cared. What if they have no idea that whoever the person in the hospital bed is, it’s not Lucien anymore. What if they keep telling Caleb to stop doing this to himself. Lucien doesn’t deserve your time of day. Leave him Caleb, don’t let him drag you back in.

what if Caleb was Mollymauk’s whole world? What if the medical system never had it changed to them being divorced? What if every victory Mollymauk has he does it for his husband whom once he learns what that means he falls deeply, unquestionably in love with?

he was Caleb’s husband, Caleb was his. They were each others.

what if Caleb fell in love himself? Their divorce isn’t even a full year behind him, but here he is, sitting in the hospital room, helping Mollymauk with his dexterity exercises. Smiling as he sticks his tongue out and knowing full well how much this is going to hurt when the truth comes out.

WHAT IF MOLLYMAUK THOUGHT THEY WERE MARRIED EVERY BLOODY DAY IN THAT HOSPITAIL. that Caleb wasn’t brave enough to tell him the truth, not when he was so fragile.

WHAT IF CALEB BROUGHT HIM HOME? Hm chat? What if Caleb knew he should have told Mollymauk hours, days, months ago the truth, but now he has the crushing guilt that to Mollymauk, Caleb is his whole world. The person he proudly introduced as his husband to everyone he meets—much to the neighbours confusion—isn’t his. They haven’t been together from the start.

WHAT IF ONCE MOLLYMAUK KNEW ALL HE COULD SAY WAS: “You were mine.”

His childhood was one hit after the other. Teen years no better, and when he’s older he finally makes it. Makes it like no one from Shadycreek makes it. He’s married. He has a job. A home—

And then the cracks start to show. Because in the end, Caleb and he’s relationship doesn’t break down for nothing. This isn’t some story that casts Lucien as the antagonist and Caleb as the victim of his moods. No, their messy ass divorce has one villain and its lack of communication. And both of them are at fault, they are, but I don’t want people to forget that Caleb, in this, played a role.

He got comfortable. Comfortable in a way many people who settle into long term relationships get comfortable. Less date nights. More time working. Less time spent romancing his partner—after all, they are married. Doesn’t that mean enough?

Lucien did not get comfortable. Lucien never had the luxury of comfortable.

No. Lucien had to bitch and nag at Caleb for dates and time together— hours Caleb spent at the university working just seemed more important than his husband, and Lucien didn’t want to have to beg. To plead for his husband to pay attention to him. He didn’t want to have to become some mockery of suburbia— Licking at his husband’s hands for scraps of attention. When, instead, it is something that should be freely given. Not held hostage.

To Caleb, Lucien had always been more temperamental. Nights of emotional outbursts lately, more rage than anything, had left Caleb weary of his moods. It was easier to claim he was still at work when he took a detour to visit Beau or discuss latest developments with Essek about their joint research. Their heads tipped over their respective books and papers as that giddy spark teased his fingertips. Lit once more, but not by his husband’s presence.

Caleb started to lie. Because it was easier. Because what does one little white lie really do here or there? Lucien’s photography job gave him odd hours at times—what was wrong with using those hours to get a little more research in? A little more time with friends? With Essek. It was above board. Caleb wasn’t cheating or stepping out of their relationship. He just had a friend who he could talk shop with— One he could confide in and enjoy time with.

On some level, Caleb, after the divorce when Mollymauk is in the hospital and needs him, does he start to understand that what he had with Essek was an emotional affair. One that, sitting there as Essek looks at him and says You're seeing him again? With dissatisfaction so heavy Caleb felt choked. It hits him then. Caleb had helped push Lucien away. He had chosen not to talk to his husband— To deflect and find comfort in his friend.

He was the one to put Essek in an unfair position. An unkind situation, and Caleb was still doing so on many levels.

[On Essek: Caleb told him all and now expects him to not be protective? How is this reasonable?]

(and Caleb sits there and has to come to terms that Lucien’s insistence of knowing where he was, who he was with, was he cheating? Had nothing to do with projection as the rest of the Nein grumbled about and more to do with the fact his husband thought he was loosing Caleb, and he had been right.

Nights spent screaming at one another over infidelity and Lucien, in the end, had been right.)

And Lucien loved Caleb so much when they were together. The best thing in his life he used to say, sappy when he slow danced with Caleb in the kitchen. How many nights did Lucien get home to stand in his kitchen, the calendar on the fridge chock full of pencil marks denoting all the time Caleb felt more important to spend elsewhere than with him?

How many times was he left in that kitchen alone?

How many times was he second place in his own marriage?

How many times did he stand there feeling unloved?

This is a Greek tragedy in the making: Lucien, clawing in attempt to keep the love of his life pushes him away at every turn by accident. He doesn’t even live to see them reconciled. Dying on the way to Caleb’s, to their once marital home. That car crash erased Lucien from existence, leaving Mollymauk in his wake.

And Caleb gets hit with these realizations. That their divorce was the result of cowardice. That Caleb listened to the wrong people at the wrong time. That he lost the love of his life not because Lucien was being difficult or a bastard (Beau’s favourite word for Lucien) but because Caleb was comfortable enough to not try anymore. Hundreds of relationships die this quiet death—someone believing that a ring on a finger showed enough promise, and that no action needed to carry out past the honeymoon phase.

He can say sorry as much as he wants to Lucien’s body, but he isn’t there anymore to listen, let alone hear.

And Molly who never knew what happened. Does Caleb keep it from him? Or does Caleb tell him the truth and let Molly decide. Would Molly leave him? Hurt that Caleb only came back bc of a technicality. Because Lucien never removed him from his emergency contact? Lucien, hoping that despite it all if anything ever happened to him, Caleb would still be there?

Lucien was brilliantly happy when Caleb and he were together. Those first few months where they smoothed over each other’s rough edges. He was smiling more, making more jokes and silly faces with stupid hats. They flirted with each other constantly, and for all intents and purposes, they were good.

Then Lucien lost his job. He was working for a magazine—good pay, better hours. He covered the small time celebrity weddings, the fashion brands. It was a good job—no, and amazing job.

Their wedding was paid with the money from that job but new management had decided why pay for the photographer when an iPhone would do (not literally but the logic was the same) and that blow to Lucien’s ego made him sharper.

He tried freelancing—and that was good for a while. He made decent money doing smaller wedding and events, was busy far too much in the summer months. But Lucien was known to be sharp tongued and that word spread in the wrong circles. People happy for the quality of his work but not for his personality.

Then his sister’s wedding happened.

Aldreda was marry a wealthy man you see. And Lucien was so happy for her. He was so happy and Caleb watched as his smile dimmed after every conversation with her. Lucien’s little sister dancing around wedding invitation and save the dates like Lucien was something diseased.

He begged her. Begged his sister to invite him and Caleb to her wedding. Sure they had not seen each other in so long, but Lucien still remembered sending her off to a better life as he stayed behind, treated no better than a dog. She and her then boss attended Lucien’s wedding. He had thought their relationship had been mending.

No invite came. Lucien was told he didn’t fit “the image” Aldreda’s new family had for what they considered kin. Maybe if he hadn’t been fired from the magazine—maybe they could have talked then. But Lucien was so full of scars you see, and the in-laws would ask questions…

(Caleb listened to Lucien beg to just be in the back of the dawn father’s temple. To Aldreda, please—I am your brother, I love you. I won’t ask to walk you down the aisle again—)

Lucien wasn’t the same after that. He smiled less, was bitter more. Caleb could not tell what he needed—thought space was the answer because space was usually the answer. But Lucien wanted support. He wanted his husband to hold his hands and say it’s okay, I love you enough for the both of us.

All Lucien got was silence.

Lucien often more angry. Tried to put it into words to only choke on them because his pride held on absolutely. Had Caleb frown and sigh and withdraw further because Caleb had convinced himself Lucien needed space when what Lucien needed was a life raft. A safe place where he could howl and cry and break apart and have someone put his pieces back together again.

And then his old friends moved to Rexxentrum. Caleb did not care for Lucien’s old friends, but Lucien was so alone. He was so alone in a house he thought was full of love and he wanted Caleb to look at him. To not give him space. To worry and care and do all the shite he used to without second thought.

Caleb started staying out late. With the Nein, and the jokes of the “old ball and chain” started to feel more literal the more Caleb tried to avoid his own house. Because Lucien would be home and he would nag at him or pick a fight about something Caleb saw no fault it. The Nein had been lukewarm to Lucien—he had always been either full of false pleasantries or scathing. Beau and he in particular had beef—never quite gotten along.

It was that lack of endearment that left the Nein sighing in exasperation with Caleb—Come on, you shouldn’t have to avoid your house just because your husband is bitching about you having friends. You’re allowed to have friends— How controlling. How toxic. Why is he getting mad at you when he’s out with his sketchy ass friends from Shadycreek? Wasn’t one of them a drug dealer? Or was it a loan shark’s bruised? He’s unstable, Caleb. You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re allowed to have a life outside your marriage—

(if enough people tell you something, you start to believe it)

They weren’t trying to be mean about it (except maybe Beau bc she and Lucien Did Not Like one another—More in Beau’s regular abrasive manner) but they were just being honest. They only saw Lucien’s worst sides. How he would call Caleb at random, seeing when he would be home, hell he even crashed Drink Night one day. (To see if Caleb was cheating on him. He found one of Essek’s fancy half gloves in Caleb’s briefcase—a rather innocuous explanation which was true. Essek got chalk on it at the Academy and took it off out of irritation. Caleb brought it home to be washed. Lucien suspected the worst.)

And Caleb just… rationalized it away, not listening to what slim voices of reasons there were. (Caduceus was there. He did not like Lucien much, but voiced his opinion. Caleb simply chose not to listen—After all. Caleb married Lucien. Of course he knows what his husband needs and it’s not Caleb glued to his side. He needs space to breathe.)

And then their anniversary dinner rolled around.

Lucien already felt like he was loosing Caleb. A year of watching his relationship crumble, and he wanted so desperately for this to work. For his husband to love him again.

So he booked reservations at a nice restaurant. The fancy one he bought a new pair of heels for. His nice shimmering blouse that Caleb loved to take off of him—black corset pants. Sexy. Fabulous.

It was a Folsen evening at seven and Lucien is sitting at a table for two as the candle slowly drips wax. He texts Caleb, gets a I am running late. He waits.

And waits.

By the time the complementary dessert is delivered Lucien is mad enough to spit nails. What could have taken Caleb so long. He stood up his own husband on their anniversary with Lucien’s last message being left on read. There is not explanation for this. Caleb should be begging for him to for give.

Lucien calls Caleb, gets sent to voicemail. Leaves a nasty message asking how Caleb could do this to him. He calls again, sent to voicemail. Lucien tells him he hates him. Calls again. Chokes on an apology because he didn’t mean that but what the fuck were you thinking?

He’s crying. He’s crying on his anniversary because his husband didn’t show up. He’s crying because he’s loosing his husband and his husband doesn’t even care—

(Caleb cares, he does but he doesn’t know how say that in a way is understood now does he?)

And he shows up and looks through his window and what does he see? Essek sitting on his spot on the couch, Caleb across from him laughing at something he said.

What happens next was not pretty.

Lucien storms in, screaming. Telling Essek to get out, calling him every name in the book because as far as Lucien is aware his husband stood him up for the elf he didn’t need to worry about. Did they fuck in their bed too?

Caleb is at a loss. Lucien is so angry. Crying as he raged, and Caleb ran late. The university meeting ran late and Essek offered to act as a buffer for Caleb because Caleb knew he would be home too late. His phone was on silent from the meeting.

(so many things can be rationalized if you tell yourself it enough. Caleb is allowed friends. He can spend time with Essek and if his heart jolts at his brilliance but he doesn’t act, that is not crossing a line, is it? Caleb can admire his friends intelligence. He doesn’t need to be available all the time. He doesn’t need to be glued to his phone for Lucien’s comfort.)

Lucien looses it. Smashes a lamp as he flips out on Caleb. Demanding to know what Essek had that he didn’t. Shouting so loudly that the neighbours call the cops. And Lucien is left curled up and sobbing as Caleb asks him what is wrong with you?

And then the divorce happened. Lucien was served in his own house by a man who promised to love him forever. Who showed him forever was never long when it came to Lucien. That he was replaceable. Not worth anything.

Caleb wanted an amicable split. Instead Lucien fought him every step of the way because Lucien didn’t want to get divorced. He wanted their life from two years ago back. He wanted his husband to love him enough to fight for them.

Justification tastes sweet enough if given an opportunity. After all. Isn’t Lucien so unhinged?

Caleb takes everything. He has the better paying job. Beau has connections to some very cut throat divorce lawyers. Lucien’s voicemail and breakdown is used against him.

Lucien doesn’t get to even keep his wedding dress. Caleb keeps that, his sister’s wedding gift to them, the house, and the photos. Because Lucien is unstable. He will ruin it. Break it—

(And Caleb does not want there memories burned to spite him. He wants everything thing to be what it once was. He wants his husband to be who he once was.

The irony that Lucien was who he as always been; just lost without the love Caleb had always supplied him.)

Lucien is left with financial ruin, a stolen photo of what was of the happiest day of his life, and his ring that Caleb never asked for back. He is copper-less and support-less and Beau earned herself a sucker punch in the face for telling him this was what he earned. Beau hit him back harder—broke his nose and everything. Caleb made sure no charges were pressed on either side.

And then their divorce was finalized.

Lucien spent the whole week leading up to it writing his thoughts down, as recommended by his court ordered therapist. (Caleb paid for his appointments, Beau argued he shouldn’t—clean break and all of that—but he did anyway. He still loves Lucien even though he thinks he is a stranger now). He tells Caleb that he misses his dumb face and apologized for not being able to tell him how he really felt sooner. He told Caleb that he had been scared this whole time. That Caleb pulling away hurt when he needed support. That he wanted him there when he cried and when he raged. That he wanted someone to hold his hand, like when the nights were cold and he was too proud to admit it, and offer him his jacket.

He wanted a husband, and Lucien put each and every heartbreaking moment in text. Words, when his words failed. He told Caleb that he resented the fact he took everything from him, that he wanted his fucking wedding dress because if Caleb was just going to shove it into the attic and forget it he didn't deserve it. That at least Lucien wanted the last piece of clothing he felt truly loved in to be his.

Lucien spills out ever drop of rage like expelling venom from a wound. That they were supposed to be applying for adoption this month if things had gone according to plan. That Lucien wanted a baby girl, hoped that she would have Caleb's freckles despite it all. That Lucien still had a pintrest board with nursery ideas that he scrolled through at night when he couldn't sleep because he wanted to pretend he could be loved by someone. Still wanted that fucking kid to have Caleb's freckles, even if Caleb wasn't around anymore when Lucien got her.

Most of all, Lucien, after every word, told Caleb to meet him at the place he had their first date. He was only going to wait for so long--till nine that night. It would give Caleb enough time to read and digest and make up his mind. And if they could make it work--not influenced by their friends, but them, Lucien would give him one last chance because he wanted his old life back enough.

It was the closest thing to begging Lucien ever came to. Not to Caleb's face. Not out loud. But with pen and paper.

Lucien never got the chance to deliver his message.

Caleb get a phone call in the middle of the night. He has plans now, a celebratory brunch with his friends to mark the end of his marriage was to happen in a few hours. He was going to celebrate.

Caleb did not feel like celebrating.

He does not remember what happened between the phone call to him bursting through the emergency room doors demanding to see his husband. He--

Caleb collapses outside the glass wall that kept the icu beds from the hall. Lucien has never looked so small. So broken.

He weeps.

Caleb does not have the heart to tell Mollymauk that they were not actually married the whole time. He is a coward who realised his flaws too late yet again. He had been so certain that Lucien was at fault. That Lucien was being irrational--

He reads the letter after Lucien's belongings are returned to him from the crash, the drunk driver pleading not guilty. He sees how his friends talk about Mollymauk, like how Lucien was a parasite. Like he was disgusting. He sat in Lucien's apartment and laid on his bed and thinks-- Lucien must have been cold at night.

Caleb felt cold. He felt cold and alone and Lucien spent months like that.

Lucien slowly watching his life collapse around him and trying so so hard to keep it together and get it back. He doesn't know where or how he went so wrong- he had been doing fine until he lost his work and then his reputation got ruined (and wouldnt that be a bitch if Beau had something to do with that as well??) And then everything seemed to just fall apart around him, the harder he tried to keep it together the worse it got.

The therapy helped but not soon enough. He held everything too tight, couldn't explain well enough- and by the time he did it was too late.

He never saw the drunk drive run the bend, a truck against his sedan. What hope was there? The Moonweaver was watching that night because amnesia from a subdural hematoma and what could be considered minor injuries is a miracle...

At least thats what Caleb thinks but he doesn't realize at first that Lucien is dead. He's gone and never coming back and the nurses calling his ex husband a "Mollymauk" because just like the birds he crash landed but made it. (Did you know mollymauks/albatross mate for life?)

Mollymauk looks at Caleb like he hung the moon. And for a while everything was perfect again. Until things don't add up. ("If we're married, why is the house so empty? Why dont I have anything here?")

Molly loved him, but its hard not to love someone that was there the moment you woke up. He'll survive without him, he did before apparently.

Lucien had had no control from the beginning. Every thing he tried within his capacity was fruitless. He didn't know how to say what he meant, let alone put to word the worry that ate at him.

When he realises it is not enough, that nothing he did was enough, Caleb was looking at him as if he was a stranger as the police charge him with disturbing the peace or something as trivial he doesn't know, he is not listening.

And Beau had nothing to do with his job (well. Technically. The soul booked Lucien's Manager's Manager for embezzlement. She wasn't on that case, but it did technically fuck Lucien over when they clean house. The people who ruined his reputation were small fishes, honestly, but they knew the right people (the husband made a pass at Lucien, he told him to fuck off, the rest is history).

And yeah, the harder he tried, the more hopeless it became. The therapist helped, she did, and Lucien was making his last shot, his final stab at happiness and--

I wish that Lucien saw the truck coming. I wish he escaped with only head trauma from a subdural hematoma but he didn't.

Lucien sustained a broken femur and a tib-fib fracture on one leg a dislocation of his other hip and another fracture needing intensive plating to put his femur back together. Multiple fractures to his pelvis-- He broke his right ankle in four places where it got pinned in his car. His wrists on both his arms were fractured, along with his humerus of his right--both needed extensive fixation from the crush. Multiple ribs fractured. A punctured lung. Hair line fractures on his skull and one thankfully stable fracture to his cervial vertebrae from the whiplash (She smiled down on him for that, because he was about to be very Dead Dead if anything else happened to his spine).

He was medically sedated in a coma because they needed to keep him calm enough to operate on him. Blood transfusions, iv lines, shrapnel removal-- lines and tubes and Caleb is suddenly talking to so many doctors. They put in an NG tube-- he already has a catheter in.

The sort of accident Lucien had changes ones life, and Caleb is at his bedside because how do you walk away from this?

(Caleb watches Lucien have a seizure the first time he hears someone call his name. It plays on repeat each night in Caleb's head as he falls asleep in the shitty hospital chair holding his hand.)

Lucien goes from ICU to Acute care with not much of a wink of Caleb's eye.

Lucien almost died. He did die, but Caleb doesn't realise that till much much later. When Lucien is lucid-ien (oh look, a pun) enough to start speech therapy. His cognitive assessments go poorly; he cannot follow basic instruction and is showing poor impulse control. Frontal lobe damage.

They start on speech.

And it's slow. It is so slow and some days are better than others, but Caleb stays with him as often as he can. He doesn't attend work meetings any more, he stays at the hospital with his husband instead. Caleb would have ripped up the divorce papers then, if he could, and he hasn't even seen Lucien's letter yet.

Mollymauk starts recreational therapy.

Their therapist is nice. His name is Gustav and he used to work in the circus before he had a change of heart. He calls Lucien MT-- after the few noises Lucien can make. Mollymauk Tealeaf, when the two are playing a word association game on Gustav's lunch while he juggles (Gustav has grown so fond of Mollymauk, and he him) and Mollymauk lights up, pointing at himself.

Caleb has a hard time falling asleep that night, but the nurses shrug and start calling him Molly.

It is harder for Caleb.

Rehabilitation is a meandering process. One day Mollymauk is cleared by one doctor to start weight bearing on his legs, the other the surgeon is pissed that anyone even recommended it--his arms are casted. He is practically bed bound for weeks.

Caleb, when Mollymauk can tolerate sitting a bit more, takes him to the hospital's indoor garden in the wheelchair. They sit for a while.

Mollymauk calls his name, Caleb cries in his lap, head down and getting snot everywhere. Mollymauk, with clunky fingers, brushes his hands through his hair.

Caleb came so close to loosing this forever, and for what? Pride? Vanity? Certainty?

Mollymauk comforts him, and Caleb still doesn't know it's not his husband.

They do another cognitive assessment. Mollymauk does not do much better--but he is less impulsive, more inquisitive. It is clear he doesn't remember anything.

Something inside Caleb dies that day, hearing the doctor explain that Mollymauk was going to have to do even more intensive therapy. That he might never be able to live on his own. That he needed someone to be his decision maker till it was clear what the outcomes for him were to be.

They want to call Aldreda. She is Lucien's next of kin. Caleb has no right to make medical decisions for him any more.

She might cut him off. Make the decision that is not in his interest. And Caleb is terrified because he has no say in what happens anymore, because while Mollymauk had started to call him husband, she is the one in control.

Aldreda does not respond. This does not fill Caleb with comfort.

He lies, he lies, he says the courts never finalized. That he put a stop to it that very night of the accident. That they are still married when they are not. The hospital does not press. Caleb knows it is because Aldreda's silence had left them no choice.

Caleb, when Mollymauk is stable, requests he is transferred to a rehabilitation facility. An hour a day of each discipline. Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Speach Therapy, Recreational Therapy, Mental Health-- He wants what is best for Mollymauk.

Mollymauk complains. He misses Yasha already and he doesn't like the cognitive rehab (they moved on to reading). He misses Gustav and his most frequently assigned nurse Bo and Orna. He misses Toya--the girl who shared a room with him one time. She had been scared of all the machines and Mollymauk had made her laugh.

Caleb does what is best for him. Mollymauk asks if he can make people laugh all the time too.

Yasha visits him, often, and Caleb is grateful. He is so grateful that Mollymauk has someone. They talk a lot, so much that Caleb takes an old phone and gets it reactivated. Caleb teaches Mollymauk how to use it to call him or Yasha--he hates it. The screens give him migraines and he doesn't like reading, but he figures out how to call.

Mollymauk stutters. Lucien never used to.

Caleb still loves him. Even though he knows deep down they are not the same.

Mollymauk thinks they are married every day till well past his discharge. He still needs to go to rehab as an outpatient, and he is mostly on his feet except for far more scars than before (that is saying something). He goes to their home. Sees a framed wedding picture with "happiest day of my life" written on it. Caleb had clothes for him. Mollymauk thinks most of them are boring and wants more colours, but muted. Bright colours hurts his eyes still, and Mollymauk has to wear sunglasses outside. He always forgets them in his hair. Caleb has to remind him.

He doesn't figure something is wrong till one of their nosy neighbours asks outright. Why did he come back? They were divorced. What was he doing there?

Caleb, in an attempt to do what was right, what was good, lied to Mollymauk the whole time. He never said they were anything but husband and wife.

(Caleb gave a sigh of relief when the capacity evaluation came back as it did. Mollymauk can be his own decision maker. He can marry Caleb again. They can be together this time--)

Mollymauk asks Caleb bluntly, and he walks out. Lucien may have tried to save a sinking ship through sheer anger alone, but Mollymauk wasn't him. He wasn't going to do that to himself. So he calls Yasha, gets her to pick him up, and Caleb is left there, realising that he may have lost everything all over again for the third time.

He would do anything for Mollymauk. Anything.

Him leaving Caleb is the nicest thing he could have done. He could have acted like he did before apparently, and throw a fit, scream and yell and beg but Molly wasn't Lucien anymore. Clearly it hadn't worked the first time for him.

Thankfully he's able to make his own decisions, that Caleb isn't his PoA. He stutters, his limbs don't like to work and he'll have arthritis by the time he's 40 but he's alive and he's not about to waste his second chance on someone who was willing to throw him away.

He tells him the best he's able, stutter and all that maybe Caleb needs therapy. And to figure his shit out. Molly will figure things out without him, he has Yasha, and Gustav and Orna and Bo. He might not be a pt anymore but he's sure he can figure out a way to sneak in and see them anyway. Volunteering would help his muscle strength surely?

He's forgetful now, with a traumatic brain injury, but he won't forget the pain and despair in his heart that hadn't quite felt real when their-Caleb's neighbors calling him by a different name, disgust in their eyes asking him why he's back, and hasn't he thrown enough tantrums already?

He loves the card he gets and he keeps all of them—the ems are doing a medical transfer and one of them notice Mollymauk and lights up. They spread the word because Mollymauk made it. They made it—

Mollymauk doesn’t initially understand what they were talking about, but Caleb isn’t there to stop the conversation. Like he had with literally every else.

When he does—

Mollymauk is…disturbed. Angry, but he knows Caleb has been so fussy and guilty and—

His head hurts when he thinks about it too much. But it makes sense, that he would feel so guilty he would do this. Pretend. Well Mollymauk likes bullshitting. He likes buying and selling it.

He does not like this sort of bullshit. So he calls Caleb out on it, his fake-husband real ex-husband kicked dog expression included, and Mollymauk, who is still on crutches and has a boot on his right foot, packs his bag and walks out. He cries, admittedly, but it was because he was grieving what he thought he had.

(He thought Caleb was his. Before he could walk he thought Caleb was his.)

He’s at the hospital he was first at as an outpatient—he can catch a ride to therapy with Yasha when she goes to work. Who knows, maybe they would take him on as a therapy aid? Eventually. He still has a long time till he is discharged—still in speech, still in occupational therapy, still in physical therapy. Will be for more than a year if his Physio was being honest. A two year recovery window after his accident was lofty, but Mollymauk was doing well all things considered. More than well.

Small mercies were still present. Mollymauk’s hands were fine, dexterous despite it all, but he had a long way to go on his recovery. He had taken on embroidery to help his focus and attention span and it seemed to be helping, even if it had been hard initially. He needed glasses sometimes, or a magnifying glass, but lights made his eyes sore.

(Caleb encouraged him to embroider. He always encouraged him with everything. He loved him.)

He was being weaned by his doctor on his pain meds, and while storms make his bones ache like a mother fucker, he was managing his pain far better than most in his positions.

Caleb had been the one remembering his appointments, and making Mollymauk do his memory flash cards he hated, but Yasha could help him on the reading bit for his calendar and also bully him into doing his cognitive exercises.

Mollymauk had it all planned out. He had a goal. Mollymauk was going to get better, he was going to finish his rehab and join the circus or something. Maybe just be a clown at the hospital.

He wants to make people laugh.

Caleb, does not take this well. Not Mollymauk leaving and he checked himself into therapy (as asked) and he does not make the same mistake as last time. He makes a choice to support, not withdraw.

He asks Mollymauk what he wants. What he needs, and Mollymauk first asks for space and suddenly Caleb is extra sure he hates it because he doesn’t know what is happening (was this what Lucien felt?)

The Caleb asks if Mollymauk and he can talk. When Mollymauk is ready to talk.

It takes time, but Mollymauk agrees, and they talk. On the board walk where Lucien and Caleb took their first date.

Caleb reads Mollymauk the letter. He cries like he lost Lucien all over again. He grieves. He tells Mollymauk that he knows he’s been someone else from the beginning but that he loved him from the start. He explains that he was at fault. He was the one who made the mistakes that caused everything to crumble down.

Caleb says I love you. I love you even if you do not love me too. I want to be your husband, Mollymauk. If you will allow me the honour.

And Mollymauk has loved him before he could say his own name. He would love to be Caleb’s partner for real, he would, but—

Mollymauk was not a replacement for Lucien. Caleb knows. He knows and it hurts but he knows.

Mollymauk has conditions. He has to finish his rehabilitation, as long as that would take. He will not move back in with Caleb right now and won’t for the foreseeable future (he is comfortable with Yasha). He wants therapy. Couples and individual.

He wants a prenup (Yasha stressed the importance) and a wedding; one that he wants with a different dress and a different ring. With photos. New ones. That had Mollymauk in them.

what if I wrote that instead chat. What if I wrote about Caleb showing up to the hospital and not recognizing the man he once loved. The one he married and was happy with before it all went so wrong. What if I wrote his guilt and his dispare and his vindication.

what if I wrote about Lucien waking up, but he doesn’t remember anything chat. What if all he knew was “Empty”, what if he cralwed out of what was supposed to be his grave with no understanding of who he used to be.

what if there was months of rehabilitation, cognitive therapy, tests, and Lucien at twenty five is not only freshly divorced with no support system, but had been diagnosed with traumatic amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything—he has a traumatic brain injury. He has no reference for currency, who he is, how society functions.

what if Caleb, first driven by guilt as he learns that Lucien was hit on the way to Caleb’s house—their old house—with flowers in the back seat and Caleb’s favourite dessert (a letter to be left on his front porch, not an apology, because Lucien never apologizes, but something else. Maybe something too sweet to say to Caleb’s face, maybe something about how he missed his stupid face in the mornings or regretted the fact that they got the bloody divorce in the first place), spends hours at his bedside knowing that for all their acrimony, they were each others once.

what if all of Caleb’s friends think he’s foolish, making a mistake for a man who never cared for him the way he cared. What if they have no idea that whoever the person in the hospital bed is, it’s not Lucien anymore. What if they keep telling Caleb to stop doing this to himself. Lucien doesn’t deserve your time of day. Leave him Caleb, don’t let him drag you back in.

what if Caleb was Mollymauk’s whole world? What if the medical system never had it changed to them being divorced? What if every victory Mollymauk has he does it for his husband whom once he learns what that means he falls deeply, unquestionably in love with?

he was Caleb’s husband, Caleb was his. They were each others.

what if Caleb fell in love himself? Their divorce isn’t even a full year behind him, but here he is, sitting in the hospital room, helping Mollymauk with his dexterity exercises. Smiling as he sticks his tongue out and knowing full well how much this is going to hurt when the truth comes out.

WHAT IF MOLLYMAUK THOUGHT THEY WERE MARRIED EVERY BLOODY DAY IN THAT HOSPITAIL. that Caleb wasn’t brave enough to tell him the truth, not when he was so fragile.

WHAT IF CALEB BROUGHT HIM HOME? Hm chat? What if Caleb knew he should have told Mollymauk hours, days, months ago the truth, but now he has the crushing guilt that to Mollymauk, Caleb is his whole world. The person he proudly introduced as his husband to everyone he meets—much to the neighbours confusion—isn’t his. They haven’t been together from the start.

WHAT IF ONCE MOLLYMAUK KNEW ALL HE COULD SAY WAS: “You were mine.”

His childhood was one hit after the other. Teen years no better, and when he’s older he finally makes it. Makes it like no one from Shadycreek makes it. He’s married. He has a job. A home—

And then the cracks start to show. Because in the end, Caleb and he’s relationship doesn’t break down for nothing. This isn’t some story that casts Lucien as the antagonist and Caleb as the victim of his moods. No, their messy ass divorce has one villain and its lack of communication. And both of them are at fault, they are, but I don’t want people to forget that Caleb, in this, played a role.

He got comfortable. Comfortable in a way many people who settle into long term relationships get comfortable. Less date nights. More time working. Less time spent romancing his partner—after all, they are married. Doesn’t that mean enough?

Lucien did not get comfortable. Lucien never had the luxury of comfortable.

No. Lucien had to bitch and nag at Caleb for dates and time together— hours Caleb spent at the university working just seemed more important than his husband, and Lucien didn’t want to have to beg. To plead for his husband to pay attention to him. He didn’t want to have to become some mockery of suburbia— Licking at his husband’s hands for scraps of attention. When, instead, it is something that should be freely given. Not held hostage.

To Caleb, Lucien had always been more temperamental. Nights of emotional outbursts lately, more rage than anything, had left Caleb weary of his moods. It was easier to claim he was still at work when he took a detour to visit Beau or discuss latest developments with Essek about their joint research. Their heads tipped over their respective books and papers as that giddy spark teased his fingertips. Lit once more, but not by his husband’s presence.

Caleb started to lie. Because it was easier. Because what does one little white lie really do here or there? Lucien’s photography job gave him odd hours at times—what was wrong with using those hours to get a little more research in? A little more time with friends? With Essek. It was above board. Caleb wasn’t cheating or stepping out of their relationship. He just had a friend who he could talk shop with— One he could confide in and enjoy time with.

On some level, Caleb, after the divorce when Mollymauk is in the hospital and needs him, does he start to understand that what he had with Essek was an emotional affair. One that, sitting there as Essek looks at him and says You're seeing him again? With dissatisfaction so heavy Caleb felt choked. It hits him then. Caleb had helped push Lucien away. He had chosen not to talk to his husband— To deflect and find comfort in his friend.

He was the one to put Essek in an unfair position. An unkind situation, and Caleb was still doing so on many levels.

[On Essek: Caleb told him all and now expects him to not be protective? How is this reasonable?]

(and Caleb sits there and has to come to terms that Lucien’s insistence of knowing where he was, who he was with, was he cheating? Had nothing to do with projection as the rest of the Nein grumbled about and more to do with the fact his husband thought he was loosing Caleb, and he had been right.

Nights spent screaming at one another over infidelity and Lucien, in the end, had been right.)

And Lucien loved Caleb so much when they were together. The best thing in his life he used to say, sappy when he slow danced with Caleb in the kitchen. How many nights did Lucien get home to stand in his kitchen, the calendar on the fridge chock full of pencil marks denoting all the time Caleb felt more important to spend elsewhere than with him?

How many times was he left in that kitchen alone?

How many times was he second place in his own marriage?

How many times did he stand there feeling unloved?

This is a Greek tragedy in the making: Lucien, clawing in attempt to keep the love of his life pushes him away at every turn by accident. He doesn’t even live to see them reconciled. Dying on the way to Caleb’s, to their once marital home. That car crash erased Lucien from existence, leaving Mollymauk in his wake.

And Caleb gets hit with these realizations. That their divorce was the result of cowardice. That Caleb listened to the wrong people at the wrong time. That he lost the love of his life not because Lucien was being difficult or a bastard (Beau’s favourite word for Lucien) but because Caleb was comfortable enough to not try anymore. Hundreds of relationships die this quiet death—someone believing that a ring on a finger showed enough promise, and that no action needed to carry out past the honeymoon phase.

He can say sorry as much as he wants to Lucien’s body, but he isn’t there anymore to listen, let alone hear.

And Molly who never knew what happened. Does Caleb keep it from him? Or does Caleb tell him the truth and let Molly decide. Would Molly leave him? Hurt that Caleb only came back bc of a technicality. Because Lucien never removed him from his emergency contact? Lucien, hoping that despite it all if anything ever happened to him, Caleb would still be there?

Lucien was brilliantly happy when Caleb and he were together. Those first few months where they smoothed over each other’s rough edges. He was smiling more, making more jokes and silly faces with stupid hats. They flirted with each other constantly, and for all intents and purposes, they were good.

Then Lucien lost his job. He was working for a magazine—good pay, better hours. He covered the small time celebrity weddings, the fashion brands. It was a good job—no, and amazing job.

Their wedding was paid with the money from that job but new management had decided why pay for the photographer when an iPhone would do (not literally but the logic was the same) and that blow to Lucien’s ego made him sharper.

He tried freelancing—and that was good for a while. He made decent money doing smaller wedding and events, was busy far too much in the summer months. But Lucien was known to be sharp tongued and that word spread in the wrong circles. People happy for the quality of his work but not for his personality.

Then his sister’s wedding happened.

Aldreda was marry a wealthy man you see. And Lucien was so happy for her. He was so happy and Caleb watched as his smile dimmed after every conversation with her. Lucien’s little sister dancing around wedding invitation and save the dates like Lucien was something diseased.

He begged her. Begged his sister to invite him and Caleb to her wedding. Sure they had not seen each other in so long, but Lucien still remembered sending her off to a better life as he stayed behind, treated no better than a dog. She and her then boss attended Lucien’s wedding. He had thought their relationship had been mending.

No invite came. Lucien was told he didn’t fit “the image” Aldreda’s new family had for what they considered kin. Maybe if he hadn’t been fired from the magazine—maybe they could have talked then. But Lucien was so full of scars you see, and the in-laws would ask questions…

(Caleb listened to Lucien beg to just be in the back of the dawn father’s temple. To Aldreda, please—I am your brother, I love you. I won’t ask to walk you down the aisle again—)

Lucien wasn’t the same after that. He smiled less, was bitter more. Caleb could not tell what he needed—thought space was the answer because space was usually the answer. But Lucien wanted support. He wanted his husband to hold his hands and say it’s okay, I love you enough for the both of us.

All Lucien got was silence.

Lucien often more angry. Tried to put it into words to only choke on them because his pride held on absolutely. Had Caleb frown and sigh and withdraw further because Caleb had convinced himself Lucien needed space when what Lucien needed was a life raft. A safe place where he could howl and cry and break apart and have someone put his pieces back together again.

And then his old friends moved to Rexxentrum. Caleb did not care for Lucien’s old friends, but Lucien was so alone. He was so alone in a house he thought was full of love and he wanted Caleb to look at him. To not give him space. To worry and care and do all the shite he used to without second thought.

Caleb started staying out late. With the Nein, and the jokes of the “old ball and chain” started to feel more literal the more Caleb tried to avoid his own house. Because Lucien would be home and he would nag at him or pick a fight about something Caleb saw no fault it. The Nein had been lukewarm to Lucien—he had always been either full of false pleasantries or scathing. Beau and he in particular had beef—never quite gotten along.

It was that lack of endearment that left the Nein sighing in exasperation with Caleb—Come on, you shouldn’t have to avoid your house just because your husband is bitching about you having friends. You’re allowed to have friends— How controlling. How toxic. Why is he getting mad at you when he’s out with his sketchy ass friends from Shadycreek? Wasn’t one of them a drug dealer? Or was it a loan shark’s bruised? He’s unstable, Caleb. You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re allowed to have a life outside your marriage—

(if enough people tell you something, you start to believe it)

They weren’t trying to be mean about it (except maybe Beau bc she and Lucien Did Not Like one another—More in Beau’s regular abrasive manner) but they were just being honest. They only saw Lucien’s worst sides. How he would call Caleb at random, seeing when he would be home, hell he even crashed Drink Night one day. (To see if Caleb was cheating on him. He found one of Essek’s fancy half gloves in Caleb’s briefcase—a rather innocuous explanation which was true. Essek got chalk on it at the Academy and took it off out of irritation. Caleb brought it home to be washed. Lucien suspected the worst.)

And Caleb just… rationalized it away, not listening to what slim voices of reasons there were. (Caduceus was there. He did not like Lucien much, but voiced his opinion. Caleb simply chose not to listen—After all. Caleb married Lucien. Of course he knows what his husband needs and it’s not Caleb glued to his side. He needs space to breathe.)

And then their anniversary dinner rolled around.

Lucien already felt like he was loosing Caleb. A year of watching his relationship crumble, and he wanted so desperately for this to work. For his husband to love him again.

So he booked reservations at a nice restaurant. The fancy one he bought a new pair of heels for. His nice shimmering blouse that Caleb loved to take off of him—black corset pants. Sexy. Fabulous.

It was a Folsen evening at seven and Lucien is sitting at a table for two as the candle slowly drips wax. He texts Caleb, gets a I am running late. He waits.

And waits.

By the time the complementary dessert is delivered Lucien is mad enough to spit nails. What could have taken Caleb so long. He stood up his own husband on their anniversary with Lucien’s last message being left on read. There is not explanation for this. Caleb should be begging for him to for give.

Lucien calls Caleb, gets sent to voicemail. Leaves a nasty message asking how Caleb could do this to him. He calls again, sent to voicemail. Lucien tells him he hates him. Calls again. Chokes on an apology because he didn’t mean that but what the fuck were you thinking?

He’s crying. He’s crying on his anniversary because his husband didn’t show up. He’s crying because he’s loosing his husband and his husband doesn’t even care—

(Caleb cares, he does but he doesn’t know how say that in a way is understood now does he?)

And he shows up and looks through his window and what does he see? Essek sitting on his spot on the couch, Caleb across from him laughing at something he said.

What happens next was not pretty.

Lucien storms in, screaming. Telling Essek to get out, calling him every name in the book because as far as Lucien is aware his husband stood him up for the elf he didn’t need to worry about. Did they fuck in their bed too?

Caleb is at a loss. Lucien is so angry. Crying as he raged, and Caleb ran late. The university meeting ran late and Essek offered to act as a buffer for Caleb because Caleb knew he would be home too late. His phone was on silent from the meeting.

(so many things can be rationalized if you tell yourself it enough. Caleb is allowed friends. He can spend time with Essek and if his heart jolts at his brilliance but he doesn’t act, that is not crossing a line, is it? Caleb can admire his friends intelligence. He doesn’t need to be available all the time. He doesn’t need to be glued to his phone for Lucien’s comfort.)

Lucien looses it. Smashes a lamp as he flips out on Caleb. Demanding to know what Essek had that he didn’t. Shouting so loudly that the neighbours call the cops. And Lucien is left curled up and sobbing as Caleb asks him what is wrong with you?

And then the divorce happened. Lucien was served in his own house by a man who promised to love him forever. Who showed him forever was never long when it came to Lucien. That he was replaceable. Not worth anything.

Caleb wanted an amicable split. Instead Lucien fought him every step of the way because Lucien didn’t want to get divorced. He wanted their life from two years ago back. He wanted his husband to love him enough to fight for them.

Justification tastes sweet enough if given an opportunity. After all. Isn’t Lucien so unhinged?

Caleb takes everything. He has the better paying job. Beau has connections to some very cut throat divorce lawyers. Lucien’s voicemail and breakdown is used against him.

Lucien doesn’t get to even keep his wedding dress. Caleb keeps that, his sister’s wedding gift to them, the house, and the photos. Because Lucien is unstable. He will ruin it. Break it—

(And Caleb does not want there memories burned to spite him. He wants everything thing to be what it once was. He wants his husband to be who he once was.

The irony that Lucien was who he as always been; just lost without the love Caleb had always supplied him.)

Lucien is left with financial ruin, a stolen photo of what was of the happiest day of his life, and his ring that Caleb never asked for back. He is copper-less and support-less and Beau earned herself a sucker punch in the face for telling him this was what he earned. Beau hit him back harder—broke his nose and everything. Caleb made sure no charges were pressed on either side.

And then their divorce was finalized.

Lucien spent the whole week leading up to it writing his thoughts down, as recommended by his court ordered therapist. (Caleb paid for his appointments, Beau argued he shouldn’t—clean break and all of that—but he did anyway. He still loves Lucien even though he thinks he is a stranger now). He tells Caleb that he misses his dumb face and apologized for not being able to tell him how he really felt sooner. He told Caleb that he had been scared this whole time. That Caleb pulling away hurt when he needed support. That he wanted him there when he cried and when he raged. That he wanted someone to hold his hand, like when the nights were cold and he was too proud to admit it, and offer him his jacket.

He wanted a husband, and Lucien put each and every heartbreaking moment in text. Words, when his words failed. He told Caleb that he resented the fact he took everything from him, that he wanted his fucking wedding dress because if Caleb was just going to shove it into the attic and forget it he didn't deserve it. That at least Lucien wanted the last piece of clothing he felt truly loved in to be his.

Lucien spills out ever drop of rage like expelling venom from a wound. That they were supposed to be applying for adoption this month if things had gone according to plan. That Lucien wanted a baby girl, hoped that she would have Caleb's freckles despite it all. That Lucien still had a pintrest board with nursery ideas that he scrolled through at night when he couldn't sleep because he wanted to pretend he could be loved by someone. Still wanted that fucking kid to have Caleb's freckles, even if Caleb wasn't around anymore when Lucien got her.

Most of all, Lucien, after every word, told Caleb to meet him at the place he had their first date. He was only going to wait for so long--till nine that night. It would give Caleb enough time to read and digest and make up his mind. And if they could make it work--not influenced by their friends, but them, Lucien would give him one last chance because he wanted his old life back enough.

It was the closest thing to begging Lucien ever came to. Not to Caleb's face. Not out loud. But with pen and paper.

Lucien never got the chance to deliver his message.

Caleb get a phone call in the middle of the night. He has plans now, a celebratory brunch with his friends to mark the end of his marriage was to happen in a few hours. He was going to celebrate.

Caleb did not feel like celebrating.

He does not remember what happened between the phone call to him bursting through the emergency room doors demanding to see his husband. He--

Caleb collapses outside the glass wall that kept the icu beds from the hall. Lucien has never looked so small. So broken.

He weeps.

Caleb does not have the heart to tell Mollymauk that they were not actually married the whole time. He is a coward who realised his flaws too late yet again. He had been so certain that Lucien was at fault. That Lucien was being irrational--

He reads the letter after Lucien's belongings are returned to him from the crash, the drunk driver pleading not guilty. He sees how his friends talk about Mollymauk, like how Lucien was a parasite. Like he was disgusting. He sat in Lucien's apartment and laid on his bed and thinks-- Lucien must have been cold at night.

Caleb felt cold. He felt cold and alone and Lucien spent months like that.

Lucien slowly watching his life collapse around him and trying so so hard to keep it together and get it back. He doesn't know where or how he went so wrong- he had been doing fine until he lost his work and then his reputation got ruined (and wouldnt that be a bitch if Beau had something to do with that as well??) And then everything seemed to just fall apart around him, the harder he tried to keep it together the worse it got.

The therapy helped but not soon enough. He held everything too tight, couldn't explain well enough- and by the time he did it was too late.

He never saw the drunk drive run the bend, a truck against his sedan. What hope was there? The Moonweaver was watching that night because amnesia from a subdural hematoma and what could be considered minor injuries is a miracle...

At least thats what Caleb thinks but he doesn't realize at first that Lucien is dead. He's gone and never coming back and the nurses calling his ex husband a "Mollymauk" because just like the birds he crash landed but made it. (Did you know mollymauks/albatross mate for life?)

Mollymauk looks at Caleb like he hung the moon. And for a while everything was perfect again. Until things don't add up. ("If we're married, why is the house so empty? Why dont I have anything here?")

Molly loved him, but its hard not to love someone that was there the moment you woke up. He'll survive without him, he did before apparently.

Lucien had had no control from the beginning. Every thing he tried within his capacity was fruitless. He didn't know how to say what he meant, let alone put to word the worry that ate at him.

When he realises it is not enough, that nothing he did was enough, Caleb was looking at him as if he was a stranger as the police charge him with disturbing the peace or something as trivial he doesn't know, he is not listening.

And Beau had nothing to do with his job (well. Technically. The soul booked Lucien's Manager's Manager for embezzlement. She wasn't on that case, but it did technically fuck Lucien over when they clean house. The people who ruined his reputation were small fishes, honestly, but they knew the right people (the husband made a pass at Lucien, he told him to fuck off, the rest is history).

And yeah, the harder he tried, the more hopeless it became. The therapist helped, she did, and Lucien was making his last shot, his final stab at happiness and--

I wish that Lucien saw the truck coming. I wish he escaped with only head trauma from a subdural hematoma but he didn't.

Lucien sustained a broken femur and a tib-fib fracture on one leg a dislocation of his other hip and another fracture needing intensive plating to put his femur back together. Multiple fractures to his pelvis-- He broke his right ankle in four places where it got pinned in his car. His wrists on both his arms were fractured, along with his humerus of his right--both needed extensive fixation from the crush. Multiple ribs fractured. A punctured lung. Hair line fractures on his skull and one thankfully stable fracture to his cervial vertebrae from the whiplash (She smiled down on him for that, because he was about to be very Dead Dead if anything else happened to his spine).

He was medically sedated in a coma because they needed to keep him calm enough to operate on him. Blood transfusions, iv lines, shrapnel removal-- lines and tubes and Caleb is suddenly talking to so many doctors. They put in an NG tube-- he already has a catheter in.

The sort of accident Lucien had changes ones life, and Caleb is at his bedside because how do you walk away from this?

(Caleb watches Lucien have a seizure the first time he hears someone call his name. It plays on repeat each night in Caleb's head as he falls asleep in the shitty hospital chair holding his hand.)

Lucien goes from ICU to Acute care with not much of a wink of Caleb's eye.

Lucien almost died. He did die, but Caleb doesn't realise that till much much later. When Lucien is lucid-ien (oh look, a pun) enough to start speech therapy. His cognitive assessments go poorly; he cannot follow basic instruction and is showing poor impulse control. Frontal lobe damage.

They start on speech.

And it's slow. It is so slow and some days are better than others, but Caleb stays with him as often as he can. He doesn't attend work meetings any more, he stays at the hospital with his husband instead. Caleb would have ripped up the divorce papers then, if he could, and he hasn't even seen Lucien's letter yet.

Mollymauk starts recreational therapy.

Their therapist is nice. His name is Gustav and he used to work in the circus before he had a change of heart. He calls Lucien MT-- after the few noises Lucien can make. Mollymauk Tealeaf, when the two are playing a word association game on Gustav's lunch while he juggles (Gustav has grown so fond of Mollymauk, and he him) and Mollymauk lights up, pointing at himself.

Caleb has a hard time falling asleep that night, but the nurses shrug and start calling him Molly.

It is harder for Caleb.

Rehabilitation is a meandering process. One day Mollymauk is cleared by one doctor to start weight bearing on his legs, the other the surgeon is pissed that anyone even recommended it--his arms are casted. He is practically bed bound for weeks.

Caleb, when Mollymauk can tolerate sitting a bit more, takes him to the hospital's indoor garden in the wheelchair. They sit for a while.

Mollymauk calls his name, Caleb cries in his lap, head down and getting snot everywhere. Mollymauk, with clunky fingers, brushes his hands through his hair.

Caleb came so close to loosing this forever, and for what? Pride? Vanity? Certainty?

Mollymauk comforts him, and Caleb still doesn't know it's not his husband.

They do another cognitive assessment. Mollymauk does not do much better--but he is less impulsive, more inquisitive. It is clear he doesn't remember anything.

Something inside Caleb dies that day, hearing the doctor explain that Mollymauk was going to have to do even more intensive therapy. That he might never be able to live on his own. That he needed someone to be his decision maker till it was clear what the outcomes for him were to be.

They want to call Aldreda. She is Lucien's next of kin. Caleb has no right to make medical decisions for him any more.

She might cut him off. Make the decision that is not in his interest. And Caleb is terrified because he has no say in what happens anymore, because while Mollymauk had started to call him husband, she is the one in control.

Aldreda does not respond. This does not fill Caleb with comfort.

He lies, he lies, he says the courts never finalized. That he put a stop to it that very night of the accident. That they are still married when they are not. The hospital does not press. Caleb knows it is because Aldreda's silence had left them no choice.

Caleb, when Mollymauk is stable, requests he is transferred to a rehabilitation facility. An hour a day of each discipline. Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Speach Therapy, Recreational Therapy, Mental Health-- He wants what is best for Mollymauk.

Mollymauk complains. He misses Yasha already and he doesn't like the cognitive rehab (they moved on to reading). He misses Gustav and his most frequently assigned nurse Bo and Orna. He misses Toya--the girl who shared a room with him one time. She had been scared of all the machines and Mollymauk had made her laugh.

Caleb does what is best for him. Mollymauk asks if he can make people laugh all the time too.

Yasha visits him, often, and Caleb is grateful. He is so grateful that Mollymauk has someone. They talk a lot, so much that Caleb takes an old phone and gets it reactivated. Caleb teaches Mollymauk how to use it to call him or Yasha--he hates it. The screens give him migraines and he doesn't like reading, but he figures out how to call.

Mollymauk stutters. Lucien never used to.

Caleb still loves him. Even though he knows deep down they are not the same.

Mollymauk thinks they are married every day till well past his discharge. He still needs to go to rehab as an outpatient, and he is mostly on his feet except for far more scars than before (that is saying something). He goes to their home. Sees a framed wedding picture with "happiest day of my life" written on it. Caleb had clothes for him. Mollymauk thinks most of them are boring and wants more colours, but muted. Bright colours hurts his eyes still, and Mollymauk has to wear sunglasses outside. He always forgets them in his hair. Caleb has to remind him.

He doesn't figure something is wrong till one of their nosy neighbours asks outright. Why did he come back? They were divorced. What was he doing there?

Caleb, in an attempt to do what was right, what was good, lied to Mollymauk the whole time. He never said they were anything but husband and wife.

(Caleb gave a sigh of relief when the capacity evaluation came back as it did. Mollymauk can be his own decision maker. He can marry Caleb again. They can be together this time--)

Mollymauk asks Caleb bluntly, and he walks out. Lucien may have tried to save a sinking ship through sheer anger alone, but Mollymauk wasn't him. He wasn't going to do that to himself. So he calls Yasha, gets her to pick him up, and Caleb is left there, realising that he may have lost everything all over again for the third time.

He would do anything for Mollymauk. Anything.

what if I wrote that instead chat. What if I wrote about Caleb showing up to the hospital and not recognizing the man he once loved. The one he married and was happy with before it all went so wrong. What if I wrote his guilt and his dispare and his vindication.

what if I wrote about Lucien waking up, but he doesn’t remember anything chat. What if all he knew was “Empty”, what if he cralwed out of what was supposed to be his grave with no understanding of who he used to be.

what if there was months of rehabilitation, cognitive therapy, tests, and Lucien at twenty five is not only freshly divorced with no support system, but had been diagnosed with traumatic amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything—he has a traumatic brain injury. He has no reference for currency, who he is, how society functions.

what if Caleb, first driven by guilt as he learns that Lucien was hit on the way to Caleb’s house—their old house—with flowers in the back seat and Caleb’s favourite dessert (a letter to be left on his front porch, not an apology, because Lucien never apologizes, but something else. Maybe something too sweet to say to Caleb’s face, maybe something about how he missed his stupid face in the mornings or regretted the fact that they got the bloody divorce in the first place), spends hours at his bedside knowing that for all their acrimony, they were each others once.

what if all of Caleb’s friends think he’s foolish, making a mistake for a man who never cared for him the way he cared. What if they have no idea that whoever the person in the hospital bed is, it’s not Lucien anymore. What if they keep telling Caleb to stop doing this to himself. Lucien doesn’t deserve your time of day. Leave him Caleb, don’t let him drag you back in.

what if Caleb was Mollymauk’s whole world? What if the medical system never had it changed to them being divorced? What if every victory Mollymauk has he does it for his husband whom once he learns what that means he falls deeply, unquestionably in love with?

he was Caleb’s husband, Caleb was his. They were each others.

what if Caleb fell in love himself? Their divorce isn’t even a full year behind him, but here he is, sitting in the hospital room, helping Mollymauk with his dexterity exercises. Smiling as he sticks his tongue out and knowing full well how much this is going to hurt when the truth comes out.

WHAT IF MOLLYMAUK THOUGHT THEY WERE MARRIED EVERY BLOODY DAY IN THAT HOSPITAIL. that Caleb wasn’t brave enough to tell him the truth, not when he was so fragile.

WHAT IF CALEB BROUGHT HIM HOME? Hm chat? What if Caleb knew he should have told Mollymauk hours, days, months ago the truth, but now he has the crushing guilt that to Mollymauk, Caleb is his whole world. The person he proudly introduced as his husband to everyone he meets—much to the neighbours confusion—isn’t his. They haven’t been together from the start.

WHAT IF ONCE MOLLYMAUK KNEW ALL HE COULD SAY WAS: “You were mine.”

His childhood was one hit after the other. Teen years no better, and when he’s older he finally makes it. Makes it like no one from Shadycreek makes it. He’s married. He has a job. A home—

And then the cracks start to show. Because in the end, Caleb and he’s relationship doesn’t break down for nothing. This isn’t some story that casts Lucien as the antagonist and Caleb as the victim of his moods. No, their messy ass divorce has one villain and its lack of communication. And both of them are at fault, they are, but I don’t want people to forget that Caleb, in this, played a role.

He got comfortable. Comfortable in a way many people who settle into long term relationships get comfortable. Less date nights. More time working. Less time spent romancing his partner—after all, they are married. Doesn’t that mean enough?

Lucien did not get comfortable. Lucien never had the luxury of comfortable.

No. Lucien had to bitch and nag at Caleb for dates and time together— hours Caleb spent at the university working just seemed more important than his husband, and Lucien didn’t want to have to beg. To plead for his husband to pay attention to him. He didn’t want to have to become some mockery of suburbia— Licking at his husband’s hands for scraps of attention. When, instead, it is something that should be freely given. Not held hostage.

To Caleb, Lucien had always been more temperamental. Nights of emotional outbursts lately, more rage than anything, had left Caleb weary of his moods. It was easier to claim he was still at work when he took a detour to visit Beau or discuss latest developments with Essek about their joint research. Their heads tipped over their respective books and papers as that giddy spark teased his fingertips. Lit once more, but not by his husband’s presence.

Caleb started to lie. Because it was easier. Because what does one little white lie really do here or there? Lucien’s photography job gave him odd hours at times—what was wrong with using those hours to get a little more research in? A little more time with friends? With Essek. It was above board. Caleb wasn’t cheating or stepping out of their relationship. He just had a friend who he could talk shop with— One he could confide in and enjoy time with.

On some level, Caleb, after the divorce when Mollymauk is in the hospital and needs him, does he start to understand that what he had with Essek was an emotional affair. One that, sitting there as Essek looks at him and says You're seeing him again? With dissatisfaction so heavy Caleb felt choked. It hits him then. Caleb had helped push Lucien away. He had chosen not to talk to his husband— To deflect and find comfort in his friend.

He was the one to put Essek in an unfair position. An unkind situation, and Caleb was still doing so on many levels.

[On Essek: Caleb told him all and now expects him to not be protective? How is this reasonable?]

(and Caleb sits there and has to come to terms that Lucien’s insistence of knowing where he was, who he was with, was he cheating? Had nothing to do with projection as the rest of the Nein grumbled about and more to do with the fact his husband thought he was loosing Caleb, and he had been right.

Nights spent screaming at one another over infidelity and Lucien, in the end, had been right.)

And Lucien loved Caleb so much when they were together. The best thing in his life he used to say, sappy when he slow danced with Caleb in the kitchen. How many nights did Lucien get home to stand in his kitchen, the calendar on the fridge chock full of pencil marks denoting all the time Caleb felt more important to spend elsewhere than with him?

How many times was he left in that kitchen alone?

How many times was he second place in his own marriage?

How many times did he stand there feeling unloved?

This is a Greek tragedy in the making: Lucien, clawing in attempt to keep the love of his life pushes him away at every turn by accident. He doesn’t even live to see them reconciled. Dying on the way to Caleb’s, to their once marital home. That car crash erased Lucien from existence, leaving Mollymauk in his wake.

And Caleb gets hit with these realizations. That their divorce was the result of cowardice. That Caleb listened to the wrong people at the wrong time. That he lost the love of his life not because Lucien was being difficult or a bastard (Beau’s favourite word for Lucien) but because Caleb was comfortable enough to not try anymore. Hundreds of relationships die this quiet death—someone believing that a ring on a finger showed enough promise, and that no action needed to carry out past the honeymoon phase.

He can say sorry as much as he wants to Lucien’s body, but he isn’t there anymore to listen, let alone hear.

And Molly who never knew what happened. Does Caleb keep it from him? Or does Caleb tell him the truth and let Molly decide. Would Molly leave him? Hurt that Caleb only came back bc of a technicality. Because Lucien never removed him from his emergency contact? Lucien, hoping that despite it all if anything ever happened to him, Caleb would still be there?

Lucien was brilliantly happy when Caleb and he were together. Those first few months where they smoothed over each other’s rough edges. He was smiling more, making more jokes and silly faces with stupid hats. They flirted with each other constantly, and for all intents and purposes, they were good.

Then Lucien lost his job. He was working for a magazine—good pay, better hours. He covered the small time celebrity weddings, the fashion brands. It was a good job—no, and amazing job.

Their wedding was paid with the money from that job but new management had decided why pay for the photographer when an iPhone would do (not literally but the logic was the same) and that blow to Lucien’s ego made him sharper.

He tried freelancing—and that was good for a while. He made decent money doing smaller wedding and events, was busy far too much in the summer months. But Lucien was known to be sharp tongued and that word spread in the wrong circles. People happy for the quality of his work but not for his personality.

Then his sister’s wedding happened.

Aldreda was marry a wealthy man you see. And Lucien was so happy for her. He was so happy and Caleb watched as his smile dimmed after every conversation with her. Lucien’s little sister dancing around wedding invitation and save the dates like Lucien was something diseased.

He begged her. Begged his sister to invite him and Caleb to her wedding. Sure they had not seen each other in so long, but Lucien still remembered sending her off to a better life as he stayed behind, treated no better than a dog. She and her then boss attended Lucien’s wedding. He had thought their relationship had been mending.

No invite came. Lucien was told he didn’t fit “the image” Aldreda’s new family had for what they considered kin. Maybe if he hadn’t been fired from the magazine—maybe they could have talked then. But Lucien was so full of scars you see, and the in-laws would ask questions…

(Caleb listened to Lucien beg to just be in the back of the dawn father’s temple. To Aldreda, please—I am your brother, I love you. I won’t ask to walk you down the aisle again—)

Lucien wasn’t the same after that. He smiled less, was bitter more. Caleb could not tell what he needed—thought space was the answer because space was usually the answer. But Lucien wanted support. He wanted his husband to hold his hands and say it’s okay, I love you enough for the both of us.

All Lucien got was silence.

Lucien often more angry. Tried to put it into words to only choke on them because his pride held on absolutely. Had Caleb frown and sigh and withdraw further because Caleb had convinced himself Lucien needed space when what Lucien needed was a life raft. A safe place where he could howl and cry and break apart and have someone put his pieces back together again.

And then his old friends moved to Rexxentrum. Caleb did not care for Lucien’s old friends, but Lucien was so alone. He was so alone in a house he thought was full of love and he wanted Caleb to look at him. To not give him space. To worry and care and do all the shite he used to without second thought.

Caleb started staying out late. With the Nein, and the jokes of the “old ball and chain” started to feel more literal the more Caleb tried to avoid his own house. Because Lucien would be home and he would nag at him or pick a fight about something Caleb saw no fault it. The Nein had been lukewarm to Lucien—he had always been either full of false pleasantries or scathing. Beau and he in particular had beef—never quite gotten along.

It was that lack of endearment that left the Nein sighing in exasperation with Caleb—Come on, you shouldn’t have to avoid your house just because your husband is bitching about you having friends. You’re allowed to have friends— How controlling. How toxic. Why is he getting mad at you when he’s out with his sketchy ass friends from Shadycreek? Wasn’t one of them a drug dealer? Or was it a loan shark’s bruised? He’s unstable, Caleb. You aren’t doing anything wrong. You’re allowed to have a life outside your marriage—

(if enough people tell you something, you start to believe it)

They weren’t trying to be mean about it (except maybe Beau bc she and Lucien Did Not Like one another—More in Beau’s regular abrasive manner) but they were just being honest. They only saw Lucien’s worst sides. How he would call Caleb at random, seeing when he would be home, hell he even crashed Drink Night one day. (To see if Caleb was cheating on him. He found one of Essek’s fancy half gloves in Caleb’s briefcase—a rather innocuous explanation which was true. Essek got chalk on it at the Academy and took it off out of irritation. Caleb brought it home to be washed. Lucien suspected the worst.)

And Caleb just… rationalized it away, not listening to what slim voices of reasons there were. (Caduceus was there. He did not like Lucien much, but voiced his opinion. Caleb simply chose not to listen—After all. Caleb married Lucien. Of course he knows what his husband needs and it’s not Caleb glued to his side. He needs space to breathe.)

And then their anniversary dinner rolled around.

Lucien already felt like he was loosing Caleb. A year of watching his relationship crumble, and he wanted so desperately for this to work. For his husband to love him again.

So he booked reservations at a nice restaurant. The fancy one he bought a new pair of heels for. His nice shimmering blouse that Caleb loved to take off of him—black corset pants. Sexy. Fabulous.

It was a Folsen evening at seven and Lucien is sitting at a table for two as the candle slowly drips wax. He texts Caleb, gets a I am running late. He waits.

And waits.

By the time the complementary dessert is delivered Lucien is mad enough to spit nails. What could have taken Caleb so long. He stood up his own husband on their anniversary with Lucien’s last message being left on read. There is not explanation for this. Caleb should be begging for him to for give.

Lucien calls Caleb, gets sent to voicemail. Leaves a nasty message asking how Caleb could do this to him. He calls again, sent to voicemail. Lucien tells him he hates him. Calls again. Chokes on an apology because he didn’t mean that but what the fuck were you thinking?

He’s crying. He’s crying on his anniversary because his husband didn’t show up. He’s crying because he’s loosing his husband and his husband doesn’t even care—

(Caleb cares, he does but he doesn’t know how say that in a way is understood now does he?)

And he shows up and looks through his window and what does he see? Essek sitting on his spot on the couch, Caleb across from him laughing at something he said.

What happens next was not pretty.

Lucien storms in, screaming. Telling Essek to get out, calling him every name in the book because as far as Lucien is aware his husband stood him up for the elf he didn’t need to worry about. Did they fuck in their bed too?

Caleb is at a loss. Lucien is so angry. Crying as he raged, and Caleb ran late. The university meeting ran late and Essek offered to act as a buffer for Caleb because Caleb knew he would be home too late. His phone was on silent from the meeting.

(so many things can be rationalized if you tell yourself it enough. Caleb is allowed friends. He can spend time with Essek and if his heart jolts at his brilliance but he doesn’t act, that is not crossing a line, is it? Caleb can admire his friends intelligence. He doesn’t need to be available all the time. He doesn’t need to be glued to his phone for Lucien’s comfort.)

Lucien looses it. Smashes a lamp as he flips out on Caleb. Demanding to know what Essek had that he didn’t. Shouting so loudly that the neighbours call the cops. And Lucien is left curled up and sobbing as Caleb asks him what is wrong with you?

And then the divorce happened. Lucien was served in his own house by a man who promised to love him forever. Who showed him forever was never long when it came to Lucien. That he was replaceable. Not worth anything.

Caleb wanted an amicable split. Instead Lucien fought him every step of the way because Lucien didn’t want to get divorced. He wanted their life from two years ago back. He wanted his husband to love him enough to fight for them.

Justification tastes sweet enough if given an opportunity. After all. Isn’t Lucien so unhinged?

Caleb takes everything. He has the better paying job. Beau has connections to some very cut throat divorce lawyers. Lucien’s voicemail and breakdown is used against him.

Lucien doesn’t get to even keep his wedding dress. Caleb keeps that, his sister’s wedding gift to them, the house, and the photos. Because Lucien is unstable. He will ruin it. Break it—

(And Caleb does not want there memories burned to spite him. He wants everything thing to be what it once was. He wants his husband to be who he once was.

The irony that Lucien was who he as always been; just lost without the love Caleb had always supplied him.)

Lucien is left with financial ruin, a stolen photo of what was of the happiest day of his life, and his ring that Caleb never asked for back. He is copper-less and support-less and Beau earned herself a sucker punch in the face for telling him this was what he earned. Beau hit him back harder—broke his nose and everything. Caleb made sure no charges were pressed on either side.

And then their divorce was finalized.

Lucien spent the whole week leading up to it writing his thoughts down, as recommended by his court ordered therapist. (Caleb paid for his appointments, Beau argued he shouldn’t—clean break and all of that—but he did anyway. He still loves Lucien even though he thinks he is a stranger now). He tells Caleb that he misses his dumb face and apologized for not being able to tell him how he really felt sooner. He told Caleb that he had been scared this whole time. That Caleb pulling away hurt when he needed support. That he wanted him there when he cried and when he raged. That he wanted someone to hold his hand, like when the nights were cold and he was too proud to admit it, and offer him his jacket.

He wanted a husband, and Lucien put each and every heartbreaking moment in text. Words, when his words failed. He told Caleb that he resented the fact he took everything from him, that he wanted his fucking wedding dress because if Caleb was just going to shove it into the attic and forget it he didn't deserve it. That at least Lucien wanted the last piece of clothing he felt truly loved in to be his.

Lucien spills out ever drop of rage like expelling venom from a wound. That they were supposed to be applying for adoption this month if things had gone according to plan. That Lucien wanted a baby girl, hoped that she would have Caleb's freckles despite it all. That Lucien still had a pintrest board with nursery ideas that he scrolled through at night when he couldn't sleep because he wanted to pretend he could be loved by someone. Still wanted that fucking kid to have Caleb's freckles, even if Caleb wasn't around anymore when Lucien got her.

Most of all, Lucien, after every word, told Caleb to meet him at the place he had their first date. He was only going to wait for so long--till nine that night. It would give Caleb enough time to read and digest and make up his mind. And if they could make it work--not influenced by their friends, but them, Lucien would give him one last chance because he wanted his old life back enough.

It was the closest thing to begging Lucien ever came to. Not to Caleb's face. Not out loud. But with pen and paper.

Lucien never got the chance to deliver his message.

Caleb get a phone call in the middle of the night. He has plans now, a celebratory brunch with his friends to mark the end of his marriage was to happen in a few hours. He was going to celebrate.

Caleb did not feel like celebrating.

He does not remember what happened between the phone call to him bursting through the emergency room doors demanding to see his husband. He--

Caleb collapses outside the glass wall that kept the icu beds from the hall. Lucien has never looked so small. So broken.

He weeps.

Caleb does not have the heart to tell Mollymauk that they were not actually married the whole time. He is a coward who realised his flaws too late yet again. He had been so certain that Lucien was at fault. That Lucien was being irrational--

He reads the letter after Lucien's belongings are returned to him from the crash, the drunk driver pleading not guilty. He sees how his friends talk about Mollymauk, like how Lucien was a parasite. Like he was disgusting. He sat in Lucien's apartment and laid on his bed and thinks-- Lucien must have been cold at night.

Caleb felt cold. He felt cold and alone and Lucien spent months like that.

what if I wrote that instead chat. What if I wrote about Caleb showing up to the hospital and not recognizing the man he once loved. The one he married and was happy with before it all went so wrong. What if I wrote his guilt and his dispare and his vindication.

what if I wrote about Lucien waking up, but he doesn’t remember anything chat. What if all he knew was “Empty”, what if he cralwed out of what was supposed to be his grave with no understanding of who he used to be.

what if there was months of rehabilitation, cognitive therapy, tests, and Lucien at twenty five is not only freshly divorced with no support system, but had been diagnosed with traumatic amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything—he has a traumatic brain injury. He has no reference for currency, who he is, how society functions.

what if Caleb, first driven by guilt as he learns that Lucien was hit on the way to Caleb’s house—their old house—with flowers in the back seat and Caleb’s favourite dessert (a letter to be left on his front porch, not an apology, because Lucien never apologizes, but something else. Maybe something too sweet to say to Caleb’s face, maybe something about how he missed his stupid face in the mornings or regretted the fact that they got the bloody divorce in the first place), spends hours at his bedside knowing that for all their acrimony, they were each others once.

what if all of Caleb’s friends think he’s foolish, making a mistake for a man who never cared for him the way he cared. What if they have no idea that whoever the person in the hospital bed is, it’s not Lucien anymore. What if they keep telling Caleb to stop doing this to himself. Lucien doesn’t deserve your time of day. Leave him Caleb, don’t let him drag you back in.

what if Caleb was Mollymauk’s whole world? What if the medical system never had it changed to them being divorced? What if every victory Mollymauk has he does it for his husband whom once he learns what that means he falls deeply, unquestionably in love with?

he was Caleb’s husband, Caleb was his. They were each others.

what if Caleb fell in love himself? Their divorce isn’t even a full year behind him, but here he is, sitting in the hospital room, helping Mollymauk with his dexterity exercises. Smiling as he sticks his tongue out and knowing full well how much this is going to hurt when the truth comes out.

WHAT IF MOLLYMAUK THOUGHT THEY WERE MARRIED EVERY BLOODY DAY IN THAT HOSPITAIL. that Caleb wasn’t brave enough to tell him the truth, not when he was so fragile.

WHAT IF CALEB BROUGHT HIM HOME? Hm chat? What if Caleb knew he should have told Mollymauk hours, days, months ago the truth, but now he has the crushing guilt that to Mollymauk, Caleb is his whole world. The person he proudly introduced as his husband to everyone he meets—much to the neighbours confusion—isn’t his. They haven’t been together from the start.

WHAT IF ONCE MOLLYMAUK KNEW ALL HE COULD SAY WAS: “You were mine.”

His childhood was one hit after the other. Teen years no better, and when he’s older he finally makes it. Makes it like no one from Shadycreek makes it. He’s married. He has a job. A home—

And then the cracks start to show. Because in the end, Caleb and he’s relationship doesn’t break down for nothing. This isn’t some story that casts Lucien as the antagonist and Caleb as the victim of his moods. No, their messy ass divorce has one villain and its lack of communication. And both of them are at fault, they are, but I don’t want people to forget that Caleb, in this, played a role.

He got comfortable. Comfortable in a way many people who settle into long term relationships get comfortable. Less date nights. More time working. Less time spent romancing his partner—after all, they are married. Doesn’t that mean enough?

Lucien did not get comfortable. Lucien never had the luxury of comfortable.

No. Lucien had to bitch and nag at Caleb for dates and time together— hours Caleb spent at the university working just seemed more important than his husband, and Lucien didn’t want to have to beg. To plead for his husband to pay attention to him. He didn’t want to have to become some mockery of suburbia— Licking at his husband’s hands for scraps of attention. When, instead, it is something that should be freely given. Not held hostage.

To Caleb, Lucien had always been more temperamental. Nights of emotional outbursts lately, more rage than anything, had left Caleb weary of his moods. It was easier to claim he was still at work when he took a detour to visit Beau or discuss latest developments with Essek about their joint research. Their heads tipped over their respective books and papers as that giddy spark teased his fingertips. Lit once more, but not by his husband’s presence.

Caleb started to lie. Because it was easier. Because what does one little white lie really do here or there? Lucien’s photography job gave him odd hours at times—what was wrong with using those hours to get a little more research in? A little more time with friends? With Essek. It was above board. Caleb wasn’t cheating or stepping out of their relationship. He just had a friend who he could talk shop with— One he could confide in and enjoy time with.

On some level, Caleb, after the divorce when Mollymauk is in the hospital and needs him, does he start to understand that what he had with Essek was an emotional affair. One that, sitting there as Essek looks at him and says You're seeing him again? With dissatisfaction so heavy Caleb felt choked. It hits him then. Caleb had helped push Lucien away. He had chosen not to talk to his husband— To deflect and find comfort in his friend.

He was the one to put Essek in an unfair position. An unkind situation, and Caleb was still doing so on many levels.

[On Essek: Caleb told him all and now expects him to not be protective? How is this reasonable?]

(and Caleb sits there and has to come to terms that Lucien’s insistence of knowing where he was, who he was with, was he cheating? Had nothing to do with projection as the rest of the Nein grumbled about and more to do with the fact his husband thought he was loosing Caleb, and he had been right.

Nights spent screaming at one another over infidelity and Lucien, in the end, had been right.)

And Lucien loved Caleb so much when they were together. The best thing in his life he used to say, sappy when he slow danced with Caleb in the kitchen. How many nights did Lucien get home to stand in his kitchen, the calendar on the fridge chock full of pencil marks denoting all the time Caleb felt more important to spend elsewhere than with him?

How many times was he left in that kitchen alone?

How many times was he second place in his own marriage?

How many times did he stand there feeling unloved?

This is a Greek tragedy in the making: Lucien, clawing in attempt to keep the love of his life pushes him away at every turn by accident. He doesn’t even live to see them reconciled. Dying on the way to Caleb’s, to their once marital home. That car crash erased Lucien from existence, leaving Mollymauk in his wake.

And Caleb gets hit with these realizations. That their divorce was the result of cowardice. That Caleb listened to the wrong people at the wrong time. That he lost the love of his life not because Lucien was being difficult or a bastard (Beau’s favourite word for Lucien) but because Caleb was comfortable enough to not try anymore. Hundreds of relationships die this quiet death—someone believing that a ring on a finger showed enough promise, and that no action needed to carry out past the honeymoon phase.

He can say sorry as much as he wants to Lucien’s body, but he isn’t there anymore to listen, let alone hear.

what if I wrote that instead chat. What if I wrote about Caleb showing up to the hospital and not recognizing the man he once loved. The one he married and was happy with before it all went so wrong. What if I wrote his guilt and his dispare and his vindication.

what if I wrote about Lucien waking up, but he doesn’t remember anything chat. What if all he knew was “Empty”, what if he cralwed out of what was supposed to be his grave with no understanding of who he used to be.

what if there was months of rehabilitation, cognitive therapy, tests, and Lucien at twenty five is not only freshly divorced with no support system, but had been diagnosed with traumatic amnesia. He doesn’t remember anything—he has a traumatic brain injury. He has no reference for currency, who he is, how society functions.

what if Caleb, first driven by guilt as he learns that Lucien was hit on the way to Caleb’s house—their old house—with flowers in the back seat and Caleb’s favourite dessert (a letter to be left on his front porch, not an apology, because Lucien never apologizes, but something else. Maybe something too sweet to say to Caleb’s face, maybe something about how he missed his stupid face in the mornings or regretted the fact that they got the bloody divorce in the first place), spends hours at his bedside knowing that for all their acrimony, they were each others once.

what if all of Caleb’s friends think he’s foolish, making a mistake for a man who never cared for him the way he cared. What if they have no idea that whoever the person in the hospital bed is, it’s not Lucien anymore. What if they keep telling Caleb to stop doing this to himself. Lucien doesn’t deserve your time of day. Leave him Caleb, don’t let him drag you back in.

what if Caleb was Mollymauk’s whole world? What if the medical system never had it changed to them being divorced? What if every victory Mollymauk has he does it for his husband whom once he learns what that means he falls deeply, unquestionably in love with?

he was Caleb’s husband, Caleb was his. They were each others.

what if Caleb fell in love himself? Their divorce isn’t even a full year behind him, but here he is, sitting in the hospital room, helping Mollymauk with his dexterity exercises. Smiling as he sticks his tongue out and knowing full well how much this is going to hurt when the truth comes out.

WHAT IF MOLLYMAUK THOUGHT THEY WERE MARRIED EVERY BLOODY DAY IN THAT HOSPITAIL. that Caleb wasn’t brave enough to tell him the truth, not when he was so fragile.

WHAT IF CALEB BROUGHT HIM HOME? Hm chat? What if Caleb knew he should have told Mollymauk hours, days, months ago the truth, but now he has the crushing guilt that to Mollymauk, Caleb is his whole world. The person he proudly introduced as his husband to everyone he meets—much to the neighbours confusion—isn’t his. They haven’t been together from the start.

WHAT IF ONCE MOLLYMAUK KNEW ALL HE COULD SAY WAS: “You were mine.”

His childhood was one hit after the other. Teen years no better, and when he’s older he finally makes it. Makes it like no one from Shadycreek makes it. He’s married. He has a job. A home—

And then the cracks start to show. Because in the end, Caleb and he’s relationship doesn’t break down for nothing. This isn’t some story that casts Lucien as the antagonist and Caleb as the victim of his moods. No, their messy ass divorce has one villain and its lack of communication. And both of them are at fault, they are, but I don’t want people to forget that Caleb, in this, played a role.

He got comfortable. Comfortable in a way many people who settle into long term relationships get comfortable. Less date nights. More time working. Less time spent romancing his partner—after all, they are married. Doesn’t that mean enough?

Lucien did not get comfortable. Lucien never had the luxury of comfortable.

No. Lucien had to bitch and nag at Caleb for dates and time together— hours Caleb spent at the university working just seemed more important than his husband, and Lucien didn’t want to have to beg. To plead for his husband to pay attention to him. He didn’t want to have to become some mockery of suburbia— Licking at his husband’s hands for scraps of attention. When, instead, it is something that should be freely given. Not held hostage.

To Caleb, Lucien had always been more temperamental. Nights of emotional outbursts lately, more rage than anything, had left Caleb weary of his moods. It was easier to claim he was still at work when he took a detour to visit Beau or discuss latest developments with Essek about their joint research. Their heads tipped over their respective books and papers as that giddy spark teased his fingertips. Lit once more, but not by his husband’s presence.

Caleb started to lie. Because it was easier. Because what does one little white lie really do here or there? Lucien’s photography job gave him odd hours at times—what was wrong with using those hours to get a little more research in? A little more time with friends? With Essek. It was above board. Caleb wasn’t cheating or stepping out of their relationship. He just had a friend who he could talk shop with— One he could confide in and enjoy time with.

On some level, Caleb, after the divorce when Mollymauk is in the hospital and needs him, does he start to understand that what he had with Essek was an emotional affair. One that, sitting there as Essek looks at him and says You're seeing him again? With dissatisfaction so heavy Caleb felt choked. It hits him then. Caleb had helped push Lucien away. He had chosen not to talk to his husband— To deflect and find comfort in his friend.

He was the one to put Essek in an unfair position. An unkind situation, and Caleb was still doing so on many levels.

[On Essek: Caleb told him all and now expects him to not be protective? How is this reasonable?]

(and Caleb sits there and has to come to terms that Lucien’s insistence of knowing where he was, who he was with, was he cheating? Had nothing to do with projection as the rest of the Nein grumbled about and more to do with the fact his husband thought he was loosing Caleb, and he had been right.

Nights spent screaming at one another over infidelity and Lucien, in the end, had been right.)

And Lucien loved Caleb so much when they were together. The best thing in his life he used to say, sappy when he slow danced with Caleb in the kitchen. How many nights did Lucien get home to stand in his kitchen, the calendar on the fridge chock full of pencil marks denoting all the time Caleb felt more important to spend elsewhere than with him?

How many times was he left in that kitchen alone?

How many times was he second place in his own marriage?

How many times did he stand there feeling unloved?

“Can I help you?” Mollymauk asked, amused despite all common sense dictating else wise. She was just…

So little.

The sphinx cub gasped, ducking her head of wild curls behind the pillar.

It didn't take long for her silver eyes to poke back out, looking at Mollymauk with an expression Mollymauk could only describe as nervous.

"Ah..." the little cub said, her wings rattling as she went back and forth on her paws. Her tail curled around her back ankle.

The cub was a cute little thing, and clumsy on her paws, a fact that had made the rest of the Nein feel poorly enough about killing her. She was a baby, really. All rose gold curls and tawny pelt.

Her wings were pretty. Iridescent like peacock wings. All shades of teal and olive greens and burnish gold.

Mollymauk was fond of her. Her paws too big for her little body and tail that seemed to trip her up. Fond enough he had given her more than one scrap from his rations, despite Fjord warning him off.

"Molly!" Fjord called, as if he could sense Mollymauk was about to do something foolish. "Don't feed it--It'll keep following us."

Too late.

"I am not feeding her," Mollymauk said. At the moment. But--

Mollymauk turned as bid, and when he returned to the group, he felt Caleb's eyes on him all the same.

He smiled.

Caleb looked away.

~~~

Mollymauk was on first watch and he was bored as fuck.

"Pspsps." Mollymauk beckoned, when he heard the rustle of feathers on stone. "Lass, c'ome here."

A little lion tail stuck straight up past a crumble of stone, waving side to side as the little cub leapt up and onto the platform the Nein had chosen to rest with a struggle. Wings flapping as her claws scrambled against stone. The tower a pipe dream with the anti magic shite that seemed to lined this section of the tomb.

It had been making Caleb pretty fucking irritated, and usually Mollymauk would be the one to lighten the mood, but--

Things had been different since Mollymauk rejoined the Nein in Nichodranas. Running from the Tombtakers the first moment he could.

"How can I help you?" Mollymauk asked as the little thing scrambled. She stayed a safe distance--good choice on her part because while the Nein weren't going to kill the little thing, she was still rather recklessly toddling after strangers raiding the ruins she lived in.

There was a suspicious lack of bodies and Mollymauk knew the cub could bite through bones from when a wing from a luckily caught bird in one of the subterranean caves.

The meat didn't taste like chicken, but it had been better than rations.

Jester had been on cleaning duties, and had simply tossed the bones into the darkness when meal time had come to an end.

The cub hand skittered out, tripped on her paws, and crunched the bird's bones in two bites. Mollymauk had been both impressed and concerned: bird bones were hollow. That shite couldn't be good on one's belly.

So, with a probable boat load of bodies consumed by the little scavenger before them, Mollymauk was just... curious.

"Caleb says you lot are a smart bunch," Mollymauk mused as the cub shuffled on her belly towards him. Her tail curled, tiny face tilting this way and that as Mollymauk inspected her. "But... where is your mama?"

Honestly, they were waiting for the other shoe to drop, and, well...

Mollymauk didn't think there was a mother. Just...

The cub was really little. Like toddler little, and Mollymauk knew that her Mother should be somewhere.

Taking a strip of jerky, Mollymauk tossed it towards her. A small mouth snapping down onto the meat and consumed in moments.

"Ah," the sphinx cub started, voice barely above a whisper. "Ah--Riddle..."

"Sure," Mollymauk said. What not?

She scuffed her paw. "H...Help?"

"Do you need help?" Mollymauk asked. A bit surprised by the accent.

She sounded like Caleb. Zemnian.

"J-Ja," the little sphinx mumbled. And that was all Caleb. His intonation.

She was mimicking him.

"Oh that's cute," Mollymauk muttered. "Okay lass, what do you need help with?"

~~~

Mollymauk stared at the mural. Etched with symbols that was probably some sort of writing, but...

The sphinx scuffed her paws, her head tipped down as she sniffled. Clearly just as lost and confused as Mollymauk was.

She... needed help with her homework.

Well.

"I have the solution," Mollymauk exclaimed.

~~~

"Caleb," Mollymauk hissed, nudging their local wizard and smarty pants with his palm. "Caleb--wake up."

"Was?" Caleb started, snorting as he awoke. Caleb blinked groggily as Mollymauk loomed over him.

"I need your help," Mollymauk confessed. "We have no idea what we are doing."

"We?" Caleb asked, baffled.

The sphinx cub, not to be left out, slithered between Mollymauk's arms and flopped onto Caleb's chest. She chattered, a half bird coo and half cat's purr.

"Katlynn," Caleb hissed, hand raising to cradle the back of her head. The touch was far too familiar to be anything but a motion of habit.

"Katlynn?" Mollymauk exclaimed, brow raised.

The guilty look Caleb sent him spoke volumes.

~~~

"You named the cub and have been teaching her Zemnian?" Mollymauk asked, just a tad incredulous. Mollymauk got scolded for giving her scraps, and Caleb's been singing her bedtime stories.

"She already knew Zemnian," Caleb explained, as if the fact that he had been spending his watches petting her fuzzy belly and telling her fairy tales as she fell asleep curled in his lap. No wonder she sounded like him--Caleb was talking to her. "She speaks several languages--Sphinxes are very intelligent."

The rather awkward look that Katlynn gave Mollymauk, pinched lips and hiked shoulders spoke volumes. She ruffled her feathers, tail curled low as she padded toward the mural she led Mollymauk to.

Her head bowed, shifting nervously on her paws. Tail suddenly dragging on the floor.

Judging by the fact he had been consoling her after it became clear the hiccuping noises were from the sphinx toddler, and her tears from sheer frustration, she was probably feeling a bit embarrassed that she couldn't figure the riddle on the wall out. Which--

Well. Mollymauk had no idea what the fuck it was saying.

"Well, we need to figure out this puzzle," Mollymauk said, deciding to drop the topic at hand and just... take the hit for Katlynn. Sphinx's were a prideful bunch, and Mollymauk had the sudden realisation that Katlynn came to him and not Caleb--she was worried he'd think less of her. "Well--I want to figure it out after Katlynn led me here. Might have a good reward, yeah?"

Katlynn looked like she wanted to die, embarrassment not even the start.

Mollymauk crouched beside her. "Katlynn was being a sweet lass and led me here--I asked if there was anything worth seeing. Reckon that this is worth something!"

Grey eyes peered up at him, pupils wide and glassy.

Mollymauk carded her fingers through her feathers. "Think you can help?"

Silence greeted him.

"Caleb?" Mollymauk prompted, looking up to find his wizard scribbling in his spell book, muttering to himself.

"Well," Mollymauk said, flopping onto the floor and scooping Katlynn onto his lap. "We lost him, dear. Best we give him some space."

Katlynn merped, rolling onto her back as Mollymauk scratched her belly. If Caleb got to cuddle with her nightly, Mollymauk had the excuse to catch up on snuggles.

~~~

"When did you name her?" Mollymauk asked as Katlynn perched on Caleb's shoulder. Her claws hooked into his coat and head on Caleb's shoulder.

Caleb paused.

"The day we realised we were being followed," Caleb confessed. Which meant he had been spending his watches with her for three weeks now--Mollymauk had wondered why Caleb had been so pressed to stay on watch instead of shifting the responsibility to another. "Sphinxes are...intelligent and wise creatures. Many of which have learned secrets."

Ah. That was--

On brand.

"What secret did Katlynn teach you?" Mollymauk asked, half curious, half amused. She was the equivalent of a toddler.

"She taught me how to make fart noises with my mouth without using my hands," Caleb told him, smile wry. "Katlynn was very proud of such a skill."

Katlynn nodded, lips perfectly mimicking a rather loud fart with her mouth. A true ass ripper.

Mollymauk chortled.

"That is very impressive," Mollymauk agreed. "Without your hands--How'd ya do that?"

Katlynn leapt off of Caleb's back, where she had been watching him solve the puzzle with focused attention. She scrambled over to Mollymauk, looking far too pleased with herself.

~~~

Caleb cracked the riddle within the hour.

"It was a clever code written in several different languages," Caleb said, face alight with smug satisfaction. He had practically did a little dance when he solved it. Hoping on his toes as Katlynn joined in with her pouncing between his feet.

She was frolicking now. Like a deer.

Stiff limbed and prancing.

"Well?" Mollymauk prompted. The shuttering shift in the air had offered some possibility that this was beneficial to all of them, but--

The raised dais half embedded in the wall, risen out of the floor by Caleb, was possibly of some concern.

Katlynn was still bouncing.

Caleb, without pause, which was a bit of a concern because, you know, traps, but--

The box opened, and Caleb froze before it.

"Caleb?" Mollymauk asked, pulling himself to his feet as he approached. Katlynn's joy was short lived, dying with the shift in energy carried in the room. "What's wrong?"

Katlynn hid behind Mollymauk's legs, looking up at him with some worry as Mollymauk reached down. Stroking her hair from her brow.

"It is... a toy. A child's toy."

Caleb turned around. A orange cat soft toy in hand.

Katlynn squealed, wings flapping as she flailed her front paws, balancing on her back legs. "Pumpkin! Pumpkin!"

Mollymauk and Caleb looked at each other.

"Eh," Mollymauk said, scrubbing his hand down the back of his head. "She's a toddler...?"

"That she is," Caleb said as he hushed Katlynn, giving her the stuffie that Katlynn gripped gently in her mouth. Her one paw balancing on Caleb's thigh as her tail practically whipped through the air.

~~~

"What," Fjord said, voice completely flat. His brow had climbed, and it showed no sign of coming back down any time soon.

"She s our child now," Mollymauk said humorously, not too certain how much of a joke it was in the face of Caleb's rather blatant attachment to the little cub that was now curled up in his arms as she napped with her stuffed cat. "Also--We fixed the magic stuff. Spells are back on line. Turns out there was this riddle and it had something to do with an anti-magic field? To keep people from cheating. And--"

Fjord just rubbed his hands down his face and groaned. Sneezing moments later.

The soft, fond expression Caleb sent Mollymauk over Katlynn was well worth Caleb's exasperation.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/73015216/chapters/232511101

Rating: Explicit

When Lucien had kissed him in apology and said, "Sorry dear, the condom broke," after he knotted Caleb's ass, Caleb had been more worried about having to do another STD screening, no matter the reassurances Lucien gave about being clean. He did not expect the nightmare which followed. Or in which Mollymauk is a parasitic entity that is a terrible cross between a sexually transmitted illness and those viruses that make zombie slugs. Day twenty-one: //rimming//forced orgasm//monster fucking

Local Zemnian Man Endures The Horrors (TM)

Thinking again about the soft and achingly gentle way Molly says, "Take care of him." How that was going to be the last thing he said to any of the Nein, his one request. Molly, who stayed through the night at Caleb's bedside, watching over him. Who wanted to be the first face he sees after watching a body burn, passing out while the flames still rage. Molly who just wanted to offer him some comfort, to keep him grounded--

The way Molly wished so badly he could stay. That he could keep taking care of his Magician too.

Updated the npc character art so it time for YOU 🫵🏻 to vote for Tyranny’s most eligible once again

Left —> right

Nero: tragic and caddy warlock

Sola: wise and warm nature cleric

Sir Symon: stalwart knight of the crown

Callum: soaking wet false prophet

Dorian: charming bartender and bnb owner

Giles: stoic and deeply cursed archer

Whatever helps you cope, lil dirt wizard