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In my head, in my head, I get lonely sometimes
—
The others are starting to worry, Caleb is sure. He’d be worried too if one of his loved ones was acting the way he is now. He doesn’t speak to anyone, doesn’t eat, only sleeps when he collapses from exhaustion. He looks terrible, and he feels even worse.
Well, that might have been a lie. He talks to Molly, but he’s not sure if that counts, as he’s still basically talking to himself. Seeing Molly everywhere and having conversations with him is good for Caleb, but he doubts the others would see it the same way. Considering they left Molly buried by the side of the road miles back.
He’s been with Caleb every step of the way, though. He doesn’t think he’ll ever fully leave him. He hopes he doesn’t.
Caleb settles his bedroll several feet away from the others, who are all in a tight circle. He sees Jester cast a worried look in his direction. He ignores it.
He lies down and waits. Molly will be here soon, he knows it. He always is. Frumpkin curls up in the crook of his neck, perhaps sensing his distress. He’s always been a very intelligent creature.
Finally, finally, he feels that comforting weight on the end of his bedroll. He props himself up on his elbows, gazing up at Molly’s form silhouetted against the night sky.
“Hello, schatz,” he greets, taking Molly’s hand. “You’re late.”
Hello, my love, Molly replies, softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Caleb’s knuckles. A beat passes, then, They’re worried about you, Caleb. You need to talk to them.
“And I will, but right now I’m talking to you.”
No, Caleb. Molly’s brow furrows. You can’t keep doing this. You’re isolating yourself. I love you dearly, but you need to accept that I am gone for good.
Caleb shakes his head. “No. You’re not. You promised you’d always be with me, remember?”
Yes, lover, I did promise that. And I will be with you. Always.
“So stay,” Caleb begs. “I need you.”
I can’t. You need to move forward, darling. You don’t have to move on, but you need to move forward. You can’t stay like this forever. It’s hurting you, and I think you know that.
“I can’t,” Caleb chokes out, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I need you, Molly. I can’t keep going without you.”
Yes, you can, my love. Look around. You have all these people that love you. I don’t want you to die for me—I want you to live.
Caleb sobs. “I can’t—I don’t even know how.”
Molly smiles softly. I can’t help you with that, lover. You have to figure that out on your own. You’ll make it. You have to live for me, remember?
Caleb nods, gripping Molly’s hand as tightly as he can. He feels so real. It makes Caleb miss him all the more.
“I love you, liebling.”
Molly doesn’t respond.
—
When you find an old picture of us and you clear away the dust, I hope you miss me sometimes
—
Junk, junk, and more junk. Gods, Molly, is any of your shit organized?
Caleb tosses a bundle of clothing to the side. He’s finally worked up the nerve to go through Molly’s things. By that, he means he thinks he can do it without breaking down into tears.
Maybe.
He’s held strong so far, but then again, he hasn’t found anything super personal yet. Mostly just clothes and jewelry. He did find a lovely topaz pendant that he immediately fastened around his own neck and swore never to take off.
He lays Molly’s scimitars carefully to the side. There’s still dried blood crusted along the edges, and he has to set them aside and force himself not to look. He’s held strong so far, but that is definitely not a can of worms he wants to open.
He’d asked Yasha if she wanted to help, but she declined. “I lived with him for months,” she’d said. “I’ve dealt with enough of his shit to last me a lifetime.”
As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s a little relieved that she said no. He thinks that she knew that, too. He silently thanks her for that, just a bit.
Caleb pulls a final pair of trousers aside and sees, hidden underneath, a small, leatherbound book. His curiosity gets the better of him, and he flips it open.
The first page is a photo of the carnival members, all bunched together, clearly forced by Molly, who is grinning triumphantly in the center. Yasha stands behind him, smiling, one arm slung playfully around his throat. Kylre stands beside them, balancing Toya on his shoulders. Orna and Gustav both look incredibly displeased, Gustav glaring at Molly, and Orna at the camera. The Knot sisters are ignoring the camera completely, sharing a look.
Below the picture, in Molly’s messy handwriting, reads, Bastards, all of them, with a small heart. Caleb swallows past the lump in his throat, and turns the page.
This one is a shot of Toya and Kylre, performing their circus act. No caption, but Caleb can imagine the small, proud smile on Molly’s face as he captures this moment. He knows how much Toya meant to Molly.
The next photo is of Molly and Yasha, both grinning like idiots. It’s taken from a lower angle and slightly blurry, giving the impression that it was taken by a child. Probably Toya, Caleb would assume. My love, the note reads, and there’s a small, dried flower pressed between the pages. That makes Caleb smile. He turns to the next page.
This one is of Jester. She’s laughing, face scrunched up, hair flying all around her. It nearly takes Caleb’s breath away, tears springing to his eyes. The photo perfectly captures her, her exuberant joy, her playful personality, everything that makes Jester Jester.
Caleb puts a hand over his mouth. He didn’t even know Molly took pictures. He must have been remarkably sneaky about it, because Caleb never noticed. This photo of Jester is so lovely, Caleb doesn’t even want to turn the page, not trusting his own emotional state if any other photographs are as beautiful as this one.
He takes a deep breath and flips the page.
A photo of the Mighty Nein, all sitting around a fire. Jester’s arms are spread wide, seemingly in the middle of telling some joke or story, the rest of the group watching with rapt attention. The only person looking at the camera is Yasha, who is flipping it off. Caleb gives a choked laugh. Oh, Molly. The caption reads, Family.
That nearly sets Caleb off, but he barely holds it together. Until he sees the next picture.
It’s him. Simple, unremarkable Caleb, lying on the ground with his eyes closed. The way Molly took the picture, though, the light slanting over his face, his content expression, the way his hair fans out across the grass, frames him as something beautiful. Something precious. It’s taken with a reverence and love that Caleb can feel through the page. Caleb is fully sobbing now, tears streaming down his face, when he reads the caption that Molly wrote. It’s simple, succinct. Two short words.
My everything.
Just imagining Molly taking this picture, seeing Caleb and thinking he was beautiful, something to be treasured and remembered forever, writing my everything under it…the absolute love and tenderness embedded in that makes Caleb’s heart constrict and his head spin.
He can’t even imagine anyone thinking of him in that way. Finding this book, seeing himself through Molly’s eyes, even if just for a moment, is overwhelming.
He clutches the album to his chest, cradling it as his chest heaves. It takes him several minutes to calm down enough to reopen the book and see if there’s anything else inside.
There’s one more picture inside. Caleb braces himself, preparing for another emotional gut-punch.
He isn’t disappointed. It's him again. Him and Molly. Molly’s head is in his lap, and Caleb is looking down at him with unbridled affection. The tiefling is smiling widely, fangs flashing in the light. It’s such an intimate moment, and it hits Caleb right in the sternum, knocking the breath from his lungs. He doesn’t think he’s ever missed Molly more than he does right now.
Caleb is crying, but smiling through the tears. He is so incredibly glad that he found this album. It feels like a small piece of Molly that he can keep with him. One tiny shard of his heart put back into place.
“Fuck you, Mollymauk Tealeaf,” he whispers to no one. “Fuck you. I miss you.”
He takes the album with him when he leaves. It’s not even close to having Molly back, but it’s something, and Caleb is grateful for it.
—
When you see a frame that reminds you of me
—
Caleb is woken up by Nott jumping on him with her full weight. Granted, it’s not very much, but it still feels like a lot when a goblin leaps onto you with full force. She knocks the breath out of him, making him wheeze into his pillow.
“Scheiße, Nott, get off me!” he complains, rolling over and attempting to throw her off. “I can’t breathe!”
“Caleb, get up! The market’s in town today!”
“Pass.”
Nott inhales deeply. “Jester!” she shrieks. “I need help!”
“Woah, woah, woah, there’s no need to get Jester involved. I’m up, I’m up!” He tries to get up, but Nott holds fast, pinning him down. “Get off! Arschloch!”
“Rude!”
“Oh, shut up. You don’t even know what I said.”
Jester interrupts their bickering by throwing the door open even further, flanked by Fjord and Yasha. “Caleb, we’re forcing you to come to the market with us,” she announces. “If you don’t get up, Fjord and Yasha are more than capable of dragging you. It’s your choice, but either way, you are getting out today. You need some fresh air.”
Caleb groans, but complies, managing to extricate himself from under Nott and get dressed, of course with Jester waiting outside the door to make sure he doesn’t try to bail.
Jester grabs his hand and pulls him along down to the street, where a vast selection of merchants had set up their tents and were hawking their wares.
“Ooh!” Jester claps her hands excitedly. “Look, Nott, that jewelry is so pretty!”
“Yeah, it is,” the goblin agrees. Caleb knows that tone, and he gives her a light smack on the back of the head. She gives him a reproachful look before scampering off to join Jester. Fjord and Yasha both wander off to opposite ends of the street, leaving Caleb to his own devices.
He ends up at a very upscale clothing stand, in which he feels incredibly out of place. He nearly turns on his heel and walks right back out, but something catches his eye. He turns.
An absolutely gorgeous long coat is set up on a display mannequin in front of him. He reaches out, strangely drawn to it.
“Oh, scheiße,” Caleb murmurs, running a hand over the fabric of the coat. It’s a beautiful garment, made out of all sorts of colorful, quality fabrics and intricately embroidered with shimmering thread. It nearly takes his breath away. Molly would adore this.
The dwarven salesperson sidles over to him. “Got your eye on that one, aye?”
“Oh! Not really, not for myself, at least,” he replies. “It’s just…my partner would adore this. He loves things like this.”
“Ah, a little something for the mister?” the salesperson chuckles, nudging Caleb lightly with his elbow.
Caleb shakes his head. “No, I really shouldn’t. It’s probably very expensive, and I have nowhere to put it…”
He trails off, staring at the coat. He does have a bit of spare coin, and Molly would have loved it…
“Eh, fuck it,” Caleb says, pulling out his coin pouch. “How much?”
“That’s a good lad.” The salesperson pats him on the back. “Tell you what. Since it’s a gift, I’ll give you a discount. How does eight silver sound?”
“Eight silver? That is quite a deal for such a fine garment.” Caleb rummages in his pouch for a moment before pulling out the coin and handing it over. “Thank you very much, good sir.”
“Of course, of course. I hope he likes it.” The salesperson flashes Caleb a wink. He forces a smile.
He hurries out of the shop before he can think about his decision. He doesn’t look at any of the other merchants, just keeps his head down and hurries back to the inn. It’s only by sheer bad luck that he runs into Jester and nearly knocks her flat on her back.
“Caleb!” she exclaims. “Isn’t it just wonderful? Ooh, what did you buy?”
She gently takes the coat from him and holds it up to inspect it. The sunlight catches all of the different colors, and Caleb feels a sudden heat behind his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” Jester says, handing it back. She hesitates for a second, then, “Molly would love it.”
Caleb gives a wet laugh. “I know. That’s why I bought it. It just reminded me so much of him. The salesperson thought it was a gift for my partner, and I didn’t correct him.”
“Maybe it’s a gift from your partner,” she suggests. “Maybe Molly put it there on purpose.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Caleb has never been one to believe in spirits, and ghosts, and fate, and all of that shit, but after Molly, he’s not really sure anymore. Maybe it is real. Who’s to say?
He tells Jester he isn’t feeling well and heads back to the inn. On the way, he passes Yasha, who looks at the coat and simply nods.
She understands. He knows.
—
Would you remember the times, oh, the times that we believed?
—
“Tell me about him.”
Yasha doesn’t patronize him. She doesn’t say oh, but you knew him too! She just sits, quietly, and considers.
“He was always very kind to me. When I left Xhorhas, I was wandering for a while. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I ended up in Eastern Wynandir, and those people…were not too fond of me, to say the least. Molly convinced them that I was a reformed demon, like him, and they let us go. We’ve saved each other more times than I could count. He was like…he was my family.” She smiles at the memory. “He was beautiful. A bright spot of color in a dark world.”
“Yeah,” Caleb breathes. “Yeah, he was.”
“I never really believed in soulmates,” Yasha continues. “Even with Zuala, I just thought it was an insane coincidence that we found each other. And after that, I kind of swore off love. But with Molly, it really did feel like we were meant for each other. It was almost overwhelming, just this feeling of oh, where have you been all my life? It was like I had found a part of myself that I didn’t even know was missing.” She winces. “Gods, that sounds so cheesy.”
Caleb laughs. “No, no, I get it. I do. He was my other half, I think. We just fit. He was…everything.”
“Exactly.”
“I remember,” Caleb chuckles, “he told me once that he liked when I was condescending, because it was attractive. I think that was really my oh, shit moment when I realized I was in love with him.”
“Oh, he told me all about you.” Yasha grins. “I was the first one to hear about the first time you kissed, the first time you did—” She raises an eyebrow. Caleb groans. “—other things. His moment was, I think, after Fjord told some terrible joke, you thought it was the funniest thing in the world, and you just absolutely lost your mind laughing. He said, and I quote, ‘He’s like a work of fucking art.’ He came running to me, spouting all sorts of nonsense about how he was fucked and how he had some terrible disease. I had to explain to him what being in love was. I mean, he thought he was dying.”
That makes Caleb laugh harder than he has in a long, long time. He hasn’t laughed like that since before Molly died.
“Oh, gods,” Caleb chokes out, wiping a tear from his eye. “I do have that effect on people.”
Yasha shakes her head. “That sounds exactly like something he’d say. It’s uncanny.”
“What can I say? I guess he’s still with me.”
That sobers up the mood. “Yeah,” Yasha agrees with a sad smile. “He is.”
Without another word, Caleb moves over and rests his head on Yasha’s shoulder. She sighs, putting her arm around him.
“I miss him,” Caleb whispers, barely audible.
“Me too.”
—
And I have no more than all you left of me
—
Caleb chokes on his sobs, trying his very best to muffle the sound. He’s the only one in their inn room at the moment, but the girls’ is right next door, and he doesn’t want them to hear. He doesn’t want them to have to worry about him.
He’s supposed to be okay now. He’s supposed to be fine. He’s been trying to move forward like Molly told him to. He’s been feeling better lately. He thought he was better.
There was an art piece hanging on the wall in the hallway, full of purples and golds and intricate beadwork, one that Caleb knew Molly would just love. He turned, grinning, to point it out to him, and he wasn’t there.
For that split second, Caleb forgot Molly was gone, and that crushing loss hit him right in the chest again.
He barely managed to hold it together until Fjord left the room, going who knows where, and then he absolutely broke down. He couldn’t take a deep breath; it felt like a full-grown aurochs was sitting on his chest.
He gasps, sucking in a stuttering breath, attempting to fill his aching lungs. His whole body hurts, and he’s shaking like a leaf. He curls up on the bed furthest from the door, curling his fingers into the sheets and holding on like they’re the only thing anchoring him down.
He lies there, shuddering, until he hears the door creak open. He shoots up, frantically wiping his eyes, but he knows in his heart that, in his current state, it’s very obvious what he’s been doing.
“Oh, Caleb.”
Scheiße, it’s Jester. Caleb isn’t even able to open his mouth to explain himself before she’s gone, rushing off to gods only know where. He prays that she ran off to give him some space, and after she’s gone for a minute or two, it seems like that’s the case. Caleb relaxes a bit, turning back to face away from the door.
The door slams open, startling Caleb into sitting up. His family is all standing there, led by Jester, who takes off across the room and positively launches herself at him, nearly bowling him over. He grunts as she hits him, clinging to him like she’ll never let go. The rest of his family follows more reservedly, save Nott, who scurries over and leaps at him with almost as much force as Jester.
“Caleb, why didn’t you tell us?” Jester asks, pulling back to look him in the eyes.
“I’m fine, Jester,” he tells her. “Really.”
“Fine, my ass,” Beau mutters. “We know you’re not okay, Caleb. Quit lying.”
“I’m not—”
Yasha cuts him off. “You’re grieving, Caleb.” Her eyes are red-rimmed. Aside from him, she was the closest to Molly. They might as well have been siblings. “You don’t have to pretend to be alright. He wouldn’t have wanted that.”
That sets him off again, fresh tears beginning to flow. “I just feel so empty, all the time,” he sobs. “He was—it was like I had a hole in me, and he just fit. He just fit, and made me feel like an actual person again. And now I’m not. I’m just empty.”
Yasha puts her hand on his shoulder. “I know.”
She really does know, he supposes. She knew Molly longer than any of the rest of them. They were family.
Jester makes a sympathetic noise and hugs him tightly. The rest of them follow suit, holding him as he cries. He feels Fjord’s solid mass; Yasha’s burly form; Nott’s slender, calloused fingers; Beau’s lithe frame; and, of course, Jester’s comforting warmth, clutched to his chest.
When he opens his eyes, he swears he sees a flash of purple at the door. Molly’s name catches in his throat.
He closes his eyes again, sinks into the comfort of his family around him. Grief isn’t linear, and sometimes Caleb feels like he’s drowning in it, but he’ll always have them to help ease the strain.
—
I have, I have, I have no more than all you leave
—
Caleb still talks to Molly, still misses him every day. He’ll miss him for as long as he lives, but he’s learned to look around.
He sees Molly in Yasha, in her stories about the family they found with the carnival.
He sees him in Jester, in the way her eyes sparkle with mischief and her laugh warms the air.
He sees him in Fjord, in his unflinching protectiveness of their little family.
He sees him in Nott, in the fierce love that spills from her at every turn.
He sees him in Beau, how she will always keep fighting even when everything seems hopeless.
Molly is gone, but Caleb still finds him everywhere. He just has to know where to look.