Flashfire

Ch23

"Are you alright?" Liam asked.

Gagging a moment, Caleb brought a hand to his mouth. Not answering until he was sure the contents in his stomach stayed where they should be, he briefly doubled over. Then, surprising both of them, he began laugh.

"Am I alright? I'm standing in my living room with my dead husband, whom I just got back with after stomping around the creepy ass forest he died in that's in the middle of a deserted industrial complex, where we found out our best friend was just yesterday, and his phone which has a fucking recording on it that looks like something from The Blair Witch Project! No, I am not fucking okay, Liam!"

With that, Caleb spun on his heel and propelled himself as quickly as he could to the bathroom. He dry heaved for minutes on end into the toilet, the only thing coming up a sour clear liquid. When he began to hyperventilate, his vision becoming blurred with every heave, Caleb forced himself to calm down. His sides hurt, and his eyes watered from the retching.

After a few moments of still being hunched over the toilet, Caleb allowed himself to collapse back against the wall. With a grunt he stayed there, vaguely cognizant of the fact that Liam was standing in the doorway. Caleb sensed Liam was there protectively, and it helped calmed his nerves.

"Technically the industrial complex isn't abandoned," Liam said, mischievous connotation coating the words. "That dealership is still open."

Caleb snorted, not opening his eyes. "Fuck off."

It was only when Liam took a step forward and squatted next to Caleb did Caleb open his eyes. Even so, he stared dully ahead. In a manner that was Liam, through and through, his husband began to fuss over the hair along his ears. It was a nervous, mother-like fixation Liam did whenever he was worried about Caleb.

"I've never seen you like that," Liam said, barely above a soft whisper.

Caleb didn't reply.

"When was the last time you ate?" Liam asked, eyes scanning over Caleb's face.

Caleb merely shrugged.

Getting into a more comfortable position, Liam sat next to his husband. A time passed where they didn't speak. Then, in an almost shy manner, Liam slipped his hand into Caleb's. When Caleb didn't pull away, Liam rested his head against his shoulder.

"You can't do this to yourself," Liam told him softly.

Caleb closed his eyes again.

"It's killing you, Caleb."

"I'm fine."

"But you're not. You just, I don't know, had a mini-breakdown, or a panic attack or something."

"I was worse," Caleb whispered.

"Worse?" Liam cried indignantly. "How could you have been worse than that?"

"I wasn't eating. I wasn't sleeping." Caleb looked at Liam with steely resolve. "Your mom finally convinced me to go to doctor Henry."

Liam refrained from asking how their family doctor was.

"He gave me some sleeping pills. It helped, but I still wasn't eating." Caleb looked away, for the first time, looking ashamed. "So yeah, babe, I was worse."

Liam gave Caleb a tight hug. Then, in a jovial manner, he got to his feet, held out his hand, and grinned. "Well, c'mon then! Lets figure this out!"

Caleb looked up at him as though he were crazy.