Whateva!

If she has to she will blame loneliness, she will blame the fact that her daughter has been slipping out more and more and it is strange to be so completely alone and yet not-

Her own movements are quiet but not quiet enough. Her counterpart runs paranoid and she suspects she’s only heard the beginnings of why, and she can’t fault what anyone had to become to survive but-

He turns, sees her, relaxes as much as he ever does. Good.

“What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night and-“

Cala rolls her eyes, and the temptation to make a comment about how she does live here and last time she checked that meant she can do whatever she wants is strong but-

“You think you’re quieter than you are,” she says instead, something both worried and playful in her tone. “And I sleep light.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“I don’t usually-“

“I’m alright, if-“

“I’m not so sure.”

She’s starting to figure him out, this man who too much of her life hinges on, and a lot of that hinge is perception and constant surprise and wonder and-

“If you would like to keep me company…”

She hears what is not said, the vulnerability of even admitting that it would be easier not to be alone. How many of these nights have happened without…

“I can’t sleep either. Don’t think this is actually about you.”

But it is, she thinks as she sits down and pushes a wayward braid back behind her ear. It is, because she actually has started to care about him and she has no idea where that’ll lead and-

“I didn’t mean to-“

“You could get that floorboard fixed so I can sleep through your pacing.”

“I hadn’t realized it was so bad.”

It isn’t, really, but she’s not above poking at minor weakness occasionally, and-

“Why do you come out here instead of-“

“Separation. I haven’t… had nightmares out here.”

“Understood.”

“If it does bother you so much-“

“If that’s what you need to do to calm-“

“I’m trying. And it’s not fair to you to make you-“

“What part of this looks like you’re making me do anything? We have, again, compatible problems.”

“If you need-“

“Stay.”

Somehow that is enough to make him be still, to stop wandering in circles and actually look at her and there is something in the intensity of it that she wants to untangle but not yet and-

“I didn’t realize-“

“I have been lucky. Nothing haunts me as it does you. But active worry can be just as bad.”

Never mind that she’d been comfortably asleep until the creak of that damned floorboard. Even she is occasionally not safe in her mind, and there is nothing wrong with-

“I didn’t realize,” he repeats.

“And I wouldn’t expect that.”

“I should’ve-“

She moves forward and takes his hands, and this is safe they are safe everything is safe, and she wants to do quite a few things she won’t and-

“You can’t fix me,” she murmurs. “And I can’t fix you. Let that be what it is.”

She’s not sure which of them shifts position into an embrace, but there’s something right about it, solidness and even breathing and-

“I still won’t ask anything. Not like this.”