Pacing in front of a row of chairs in the waiting room, Caleb watched the hallway in a steady vigil, taking his eyes off the long tiled, sterile vestibule for only enough time to glance at the nurses’ station.

Caleb didn’t go in to see Pogue right away… even if they had told him he could. Something inside of him felt rotten, making him feel like he didn’t deserve to be here watching over Pogue or any of them for that manner after what he had done tonight. Tonight, he had lost control of himself and almost killed one if not both of the few people he cared about, the same people he had sworn to protect with his life.

If Pogue hadn’t made it… no, Caleb couldn’t even think of what he would have done if Pogue had died in the alley, had died because Caleb couldn’t control himself because of a stupid headache. Dropping into the closest padded chair, Caleb winced slightly against the pain he felt -- consequences of healing – that maybe he had under speculated about before. But there was no need to bring that to anyone’s attention, as far as he was concerned, as long as he would live… the pain was something he could deal with, hell, pain was something he deserved.

Hunching over in the chair, Caleb let his elbows rest on his knees, supporting his upper body as he mashed the heels of his palms into his eyes, rubbing away any of the sleep deprivation he felt. There was no time for sleep now, he would stay in the hospital with Pogue for as long as he needed to.

“Mr. Danvers?”

Startled by the sudden presence of another, Caleb’s body shot up so that he was sitting rigid in the seat, his heart racing as he felt another surge of pain. A pain that he knew he could ignore if he put enough energy into it. Looking up, Caleb’s eyes found the face of a weary-eyed doctor.

“How is he?” Caleb murmured, his dry lips parting and emitting a sound he thought was too loud for the environment.

Shifting slightly, the doctor glanced at a clipboard in his grasp with a sigh, “Well, we dressed the wounds and medicated Mr. Parry as we saw fit. We want to keep him for a little while, but he should be fine.”

Caleb felt the pressure in his chest subside as he let out an audible sound of relief before raking his hands through his hair and then letting them wash over his face.

“However, we’re not certain how Mr. Parry sustained such injuries…” Looking over his papers for a brief moment, there was a calculated pause as the doctor let his eyes leave the papers and scan Caleb in a suspicious manner. “What did you say happened again?”

***

Caleb felt horrible as he remembered the lie he had told the doctor about the boys messing around behind Nicky’s, he felt horrible when he heard himself say that Pogue had lost his balance after Caleb had shoved him playfully and had fallen onto all the empties. This way though, lie or not, Caleb still blamed himself, it had been his fault and it would stay his fault… that part of the little fib had not been fabricated. Caleb would have to tell Pogue “the story” later so that he could back him up if anything drastic happened or should anyone else become involved in the “accident”.

Now, Caleb stood in front of Pogue’s door – room 418 – quietly, an inner argument waging within his mind if he should go in or not. Would Pogue want to see him? Would Pogue understand that what he had done had been a freak accident that had been out of Caleb’s control, or would Pogue see Caleb the way Tyler did now?

Lifting his hand, Caleb decided to go into the room and quietly, he twisted the handle.

Upon entering the room, it was dark… which was rightfully so; if the doctor had been telling the truth about how much medication they had given Pogue, Pogue wouldn’t be conscious. Taking some comfort in that fact, Caleb crept into the room, his shoes making a funny sound on the tiled floor as his eyes scanned the unmoving, lumpy shape on the bed. Caleb however, did not approach and instead, retreated to the farthest wall and followed it until he found the chair there. Settling into it gently, Caleb slowly leaned forward and let his elbows rest on his knees once more, his head automatically sinking into his hands.

This was his fault. The reason Pogue was here, the reason Tyler looked at him the way he did after Caleb had realized what he had done. However, the most haunting image was that of Pogue, lying still on the pavement damp with his own blood, full of glass Caleb had launched at him by letting his powers get out of control. At this point, Caleb was sure he had let his powers become out of control… if he had tried only a little harder, it wouldn’t have happened, it would have just been another night.

“Oh God…” Caleb sighed, his whispering plea almost desperate and fragile as he let his hands wash over his eyes. The image of Pogue laying there, no matter if he had saved his friend or not, would haunt Caleb forever, until the day he died. “What the hell is wrong with me? Pogue...” Caleb looked across the room, he didn't expect Pogue to answer, but he needed to say it anyway, "I'm so sorry... I promised and - and, it's worth nothing."

Unconsciousness really had a way of bringing out Caleb's feelings, maybe it was because he wasn't afraid of being weak in front of someone who couldn't hear it or see it. Of someone that would not judge or need him to be the fearless leader...

Caleb had a bit more to say, in fact, he had a lot to say about things that were going on lately. Now that this had happened, it definitely pushed the fact that he seriously needed to have a sit down with Pogue, Reid and Tyler, up higher on his already long priority list.

However, as Pogue quickly reminded Caleb that he didn’t blame him for what happened in the alley, Caleb sort of wanted Pogue to blame him… it was only right. Pogue had the right.

“Your parents are gone. I think they tried to call…” Caleb mused lowly as he pushed himself from the chair, pausing in his speech in order to make sure his words didn’t crack when the pain he felt electric through his body. He sort of wished Pogue wouldn’t push himself this soon after what had happened, but Caleb knew that he wouldn’t be able to talk the blond out of it any time soon. If Mrs. Parry were here right now with Pogue like this... Caleb would have laughed out loud at the thought had it not been such a serious matter.

Taking a couple steps towards the bed, Caleb let his eyes wash over Pogue. Sure, he was fine… but he looked like death had warmed over. The pallid look he guessed might have been from the blood lost after the injuries… something the doctor assured would fade within a couple days as Pogue’s body produced more to replace what was missing.

“Do you…” The words Caleb had on the tip of his tongue were ones that he didn’t want to say, but as he watched Pogue begin to move around again with the aid of some medication, Caleb needed to know. “Do you remember what happened? Back at Nicky’s I mean?”

Folding his arms across his chest, Caleb did his best to look stern especially after the mini-breakdown he had had moments before.

Caleb wasn’t sure if it was relief or an always active guilty complex that washed over him when Pogue mentioned not remembering anything. It was almost painful though, listening to Pogue describe what had been the doorstep of death and the white hot pain that accompanied this unexpected visit to said doorstep… somehow though, Caleb did not feel like reliving the moment just yet. Maybe a little while down the road, if he asked, Caleb would tell Pogue exactly what happened tonight at Nicky’s, tell him exactly what was going through his mind when he lost complete and utter control for that one moment, that one disastrous moment. But now was not the time for that… Caleb had his pride to look after too, pride and the fact that the others used him as a pillar of strength.

It was when Caleb heard Pogue mention something about Tyler, a pin cushion and moving, that he grimaced. “If you keep moving around I’ll…” Caleb paused before he could finish. It had started out as a joke, to lighten the mood – which was strange enough for Caleb – but it quickly turned horrible in his mind. Using again… God forbid, what if this wasn’t the first time his powers raged out of control? By no means was Caleb into glorifying himself, but out of the four of them, Caleb had honed the most power… he was the strongest. If something went wrong again…

Shaking his head physically, Caleb blinked several times before he focused his gaze on Pogue, intent on not drifting back into his thoughts of chaos and calamity.

“Tyler’s fine. Still really sick, but fine thanks to you…” Caleb shifted, letting his arms slip from their terse fold and into the front pockets of his sweater almost in a relaxed position. However, his muscles were still tense, his jaw still rigid. “I think we’re barred from the Simms’ house for a while though.”

Even as he spoke, Caleb could see the look in Tyler’s eyes when the youngest boy looked at him. If Caleb was Tyler… he would have done the same thing too.

Quickly, Caleb spoke up again.

“The doctors want to keep you for a little… see if you’re alright. If you want me to stay for a little while …”

Pulling a hand out of his pocket, Caleb raised it and let it rest squarely on the back of his neck for a moment as his eyes searched the room for nothing in particular.
Truth be told, Caleb felt he owed Pogue something, anything… though it wouldn’t fix his ultimate guilt, it chipped some of the hurt he was feeling for the now guilt.

Caleb couldn’t help but let his arms rise once more and hardly noticed when they folded across his chest tightly. The past couple of days? Reid? Nightmares? Caleb could feel his jaw tighten and his eyes narrow into tiny slits.

“Past couple of days?” Caleb questioned rhetorically, his tone becoming deep and almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me this was going on Pogue?” His words were sharp as his ears grew hot, the heat rising from his neck and reaching his cheeks as he screwed his brow together.

“This is serious crap and you deci –” Caleb cut himself short, he could hear the tone in his own voice and let his head fall forward, his eyes closing as he untucked a hand and began to massage the bridge of his nose with a thumb and fore-finger. “Pogue, I understand Reid not telling me, but we have to figure this out together… you could have told me. You should have told me.” Caleb had to work to keep his voice on a calm level.

Of course, Caleb wasn’t truly angry with Pogue, no… that was far from it. Caleb was angry with himself, angry that he hadn’t brought it up sooner. He had had nightmares; he had had headaches and had felt the things Pogue had described, lately too. Caleb was just as much to blame for not saying anything as the others were if not more…

Black stuff.

Caleb almost physically felt his shoulders rock at the thought; those dreams had scared the crap out of him… they woke him all the time in the middle of night in a cold sweat, made him want to be sick. It was this thought that he was stuck on when Pogue murmured something about Ascension… a topic which completely rocked him from the thought about the dreams.

Ascension was always something that sat in the back of Caleb’s mind since they had learned about their powers when they were younger. Every year, the thought would slowly creep forward without notice until now, at seventeen, Caleb could no longer ignore it. It was there… like a cut on the top of his mouth that would heal if he only stopped feeling it out with his tongue; painfully infected and bothersome.

Shaking himself from the deep thoughts, Caleb raised his eyes to look upon Pogue once more.

“Now we’re all in on this… something’s seriously wrong here and it’s something that we can all feel.”

Caleb knew what Pogue was talking about… he had done the same thing; popped a few Advil, gone to sleep again or just ignored however he was feeling instead of telling anyone. It was easier that way, easier than worrying everyone else. Caleb could deal with the worry himself… it was what he had done his entire life. Atlas, he took the world on his shoulders and the weight was something he was well used to at this point.

“We have to figure this out before it gets worse, before Tyler…” Caleb started, pacing slightly as he spoke. Pacing helped him think, or at least Caleb thought so; everyone else hated when he did it, sometimes forcibly making him sit down before he drove them completely insane. However, as he spoke the youngest boy’s name, Caleb couldn’t bring himself to say Tyler could get worse. If Tyler got worse… there was no telling how much worse it could get, no telling how much more the boy could take.

Cupping his hands, Caleb let rise to his face and slide over his lips, taking a breath before he attempted to speak again.

“The only thing that’s made us feel like this before… was when someone was using. It’s never been as bad as Tyler though… I know you and I haven’t been using, and Reid wouldn’t use to the extreme where it effected us like this.”

Caleb was grasping at straws he knew… but there was nothing more to take hold of at the moment; straws were all he had and if he had to grasp at them… so be it.