Ghosts of the Past, Griffin and Caleb; Open

[Griffin]

Griffin was sick as a dog, no pun intended. As the other members of the lab pack slowly began to turn around for the better, Griffin was still as weak as a kitten. Most of the day he would be found sleeping. He hated being such a weak link, when he was supposed to be the alpha. But at the same time, it truly touched him how much Kepler and Dice were caring for him. This was what it meant to be in a pack.

After Dice had insisted that it would be good for Griffin to get some fresh air, Griffin found himself outside, wrapped in a blanket so as to not become too cold, considering his weakened state. Dice was not going to let him get even more sick after all.

It was a clear morning, early still so not many were up. Griffin half lidded his eyes, dozing a little in the light of the sun. His nostrils flared as he took in scents he hadn't smelled for at least seven years. They were safe.

[Caleb]

When he wasn't sitting in Scott's kitchen, Caleb still sat with the lab pack. It pleased him that they were starting to get better, to become strong.

But Griffin didn't. Just slept the day away.

Caleb knew what Griff was. He'd tried to talk to him, after first. But when it was apparent that he was too weak in the labs, he stopped trying. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes he would forget and try again. It was like that, being a ghost.

So was not sleeping. Now that he was self-aware, he was getting to not sleeping. He didn't sleep, he just wandered. Or he let himself fall into a sort of trance, not thinking about anything and instead just waiting.

When Griffin went out into the morning fog, Caleb followed him. He passed through the door that shut behind the lab alpha, and stumped down the steps to sit on the wall perpendicular to where the other was sitting.

Griff's power was coming back, he'd seen Zea's John. But he still didn't expect himself to be seen. After all, it hadn't happened yet.

Caleb placed his cane between his legs in front of him and rested both hands on the handle, one folded atop the other. Not neatly, no, Caleb was not neat. But functional.

And so he watched the campus, sitting with the wolf who had taken care of the others for three long years.

[Griffin]

Griffin's Gift was beginning to become more reliable than it had been at the lab. At the lab, he had been too delirious and focused on trying to keep the pack together to be able to see and hear ghosts properly. There were a few exceptions, specifically right after one of them had passed. Oh yes, too many souls he had felt depart from this world, coming to him to say goodbye for them. It hurt, each and every one of them, Griff felt like he had failed.

Thus, he was familiar with the feeling of a ghost being present. He had had an ever growing feeling that there was one that stayed around him, but Griffin had been too sick to notice. Now, outside, with his stomach somewhat settled, and between sleep and wake, Griffin knew there was a ghost here, right here.

Slowly he opened an eye, still feeling in limbo between fully awake and fully asleep. Funny thing, this was the state that was most easy to see a ghost. Yes Griffin could speak with them, but seeing them very very clearly, one needed to be unfocused, in the world between dreams and reality. Generally, when Griffin spoke with spirits, yes he saw them and had a feeling of what they looked like. But a very clear defined ghost, it was easiest to see them when he just let go. Griffin sucked in a breath, his throat tightening.

"....Caleb."

[Caleb]

Caleb's head turned, and he smiled at Griffin. A crooked, curling, half-smile. Wry and sardonic, it pulled at the right side of his mouth. His face was lazy, calm, happy that he'd been addressed.

"Hey Griff. Nice to talk to you." And somehow, it came through that he meant every bit of that sentence.

He'd been waiting for a long time. The feeling of attention from the one he'd been trying to reach for so long was intoxicating. So far, anybody he would have wanted to talk with was unable to hear or see him. Dr. Mazuo was not the same, he didn't want to talk with her, he was only angry at her. It wasn't the same. It wasn't satisfying.

But being acknowledged by Griffin spread a contentment, a pleasure that was deeply satisfying. Someone was talking with him. Not afraid, not crazy. Just talking. Somebody he knew.

"You must be feeling better."

[Griffin]

Griffin was deathly pale, wrung out, with those dark rings under his eyes. He was thin, too thin than he should be. He was tired, and frequently sick. But in this moment, being outside and having his stomach for once settle, Griffin felt good. Griffin just stared at Caleb, a bit slack jawed, remembering those feverish moments in the cage when he could have sworn he had seen Caleb... but wrote it off as delirium.

"...you've been around a lot haven't you," Griffin said slowly. He gave Caleb a bit of a tight smile. "Feeling better? I guess you could say that. At least I'm not puking up my guts." Griffin rested his head against the tree he was sitting again and closed his eyes again for a moment. But he didn't go to sleep.

"I failed you Caleb."

[Caleb]

When Griffin asked if he had been around, Caleb's eyes dropped and his whole mouth pulled back into a hooded little secret smile. He looked back up at Griff, and his expression told the other that he should already know the answer to that.

He'd been there every day from the moment he left his body. Even when he would go harass Dr. Mazuo, or go visit Scott, he was never gone for too long. Certainly not all day. He was able to spend more and more time away from the lab pack, at Scott's house or wandering the campus, but he always came back to check on them.

He'd spent weeks at the labs, sitting in Kepler's cell and stroking her hair. She couldn't feel it, couldn't know he was there, but he did it anyway.

He snorted, slightly, at the vomit comment. Not puking would be an improvement, he figured, yes.

Now that he had the chance to talk to Griffin, to be heard, he found himself unsure of what he wanted to talk about. He much preferred hearing Griff's own words, knowing that he was talking to him.

"I failed you Caleb."

"No," Caleb frowned. He jabbed his cane against the brick, repeating, "No, Griff. Their fuckup drugs failed, they killed me. Not you."

He remembered it exactly, down to the minute details. The blue gleam of steel for the hypo, the way he had snarled at Aras when she pressed the button that forced him against the mesh and the pinch of the needle as it went in.

He remembered the feeling of the reaction. The way he grunted with pain when it started, and grabbed his arm.

His blood was on fire. His veins were burning. The TS reached his heart and that's when he'd started screaming.

He'd barely been able to hear the others calling his name, their fingers wrapped around the wire as they strained to know what was happening, to be closer, to help him.

And over it all, the Elkyones watching, with their clipboards. Aras' concerned, pained face, and Dicen's impassive one.

[Griffin]

The problem with ghosts were that they actually displayed emotions. And no, he didn't mean that they showed it on their faces or they were more expressive. No. Since the ghost was basically one's soul, every emotion it had was unleashed without a body to hold in the power. In a ghost, an emotion became power, and to those who were sensative to it, well it was felt as pain if anger or saddness, a anti-depressent when they were happy. Those who were Deathspeakers though not only felt the emotion, felt a power backlash, but also tended to be dragged into the memories, especially if they were strong ones. And one memory that was always, always the strongest was the moment of death.

Griffin sighed sadly as he heard Caleb deny that it had been his fault. It had been in a way. Griffin had been determined to get them out of there, had continued to promise it. And yet he had failed those that died. They were dead because he couldn't find a way to get them free before they paid with their life. It was a burden of guilt that tied closely with his Guardian Calling. Those that had such a Calling, and Nik understood this feeling well as Griffin now knew from the conversation with the alpha, would always be left with the feeling that they had failed if those that they protected were injured or killed under their watch, not matter how helpless the one who watched over them had been to prevent it.

Before Griffin could say anything else, he was slammed hard with the emotions and memory of death. Griffin toppled over, making a strangled sound. He knew that Caleb wouldn't have meant to do this, that Caleb probably had no idea how potent ghost emotions and memories could be. Not many did, save for those who had the Gift of Deadspeech. After all, how could memories and emotions be that powerful?

Griffin was dragged into the entire memory. He felt everything Caleb had, saw everything Caleb had, knew everything in Caleb's mind for that moment in time. He literally relived the memory as if it were happening right now to Griffin. Very few actually experienced death more than once. Griffin experienced it without actually dying.

Griffin didn't realize his jaw had clenched to keep his screams from being heard as he felt like he was being flayed alive inside. Make it stop! Screamed a part of him. He writhed on the ground, in the grass, as the terror took him over. He smelled death, he smelled that lab again, and it was as if he were still trapped in that hellish place.

And finally, after what seemed like a century, the memory faded. Griffin lay there breathing weakly, feeling dizzy from the utter wrenching of his entire body. For a while he honestly didn't think he could move, as he tried to gather himself back up.

Griffin finally spoke.

"Dammit... Caleb? You still here?"

[Caleb]

When Griffin came to, Caleb was on his hands and knees on the steps in front of him, trying to do something but in every possible way, unable.

He'd been calling Griffin's name.

And finally he responded.

"Griff! Yes, yes I'm here, what fucking happened? Shit, you fell over and... what was that? Are you okay? Should I go play poltergeist and try and get somebody's attention and get you some help?"

He was wavering back and forth, as though wanting to reach out and touch the man but unsure.

[Griffin]

Griffin sighed in relief when he heard Caleb was still there. However, it did take him a moment to respond again. His memory... his own self was still getting pieced together again. It wasn't every day that you lived someone else's death after all.

"No, I'm okay," Griffin said softly. "Your memories... they are strong, especially... especially the one of your death." He slowly sat up clutching the blanket as he shivered from exhaustion. "I think... you dragged me into reliving your memory." Jeez, first possession, now reliving memories? Griffin made a note that perhaps he should write a guide to anyone else who had to deal with Deadspeech. It was definitely not a walk in the park.

"I think it hit me hard cause I'm already a bit wrung out," Griffin gave Caleb a wry smile. "But I'll be okay."

[Caleb]

Oh no. He'd. He did it? He didn't know.

"Shit, Griff, that was me? I didn't- Shit. I'm sorry- I didn't mean to- how does that- shit."

Caleb sat back, running his right hand through his unruly hair.

"But I'll be okay."

He looked back at Griffin, fingers tangled in red curls.

"Yeah? I- shit. I'm so sorry."

He knew how bad that memory was. Of course he did, it was his memory. His death. It had been bad enough when it happened to him, who was still relatively healthy.

It was amazing that Griffin wasn't still passed out.

"I'm so sorry, Griff."

[Griffin]

"Caleb, I'm fine," Griffin told him with reassurance. "Hey, stop blaming yourself. You didn't know. I didn't know. There was a lot of not knowing between us. But now we do know... and knowing is half the battle." Griffin for some reason grinned at that. It was a quote from somewhere... he felt like he knew it from something.... but for the life of him he couldn't remember where he had heard it.

"It's.... it's really good to see you Caleb," Griffin said softly, turning rather serious suddenly. "I wish you had gotten out. Ironic how I met up with your old pack." Griffin watched him. "...but why haven't you crossed over?"

[Caleb]

Caleb grinned too, sure that somewhere in the back of his mind, a cartoon character was saying that quote. He just couldn't pin it.

He turned to sit, planting himself on the steps he'd been kneeling on, and reaching for the cane which re-materialized from where it disappeared when he dropped it. Like a mime's props, it was non-existent until acknowledged again.

"why haven't you crossed over?"

Caleb froze mid-reach, looking out into blank space as his brain processed the question.

He pulled the cane back to his lap, placing it alongside his leg.

He was looking now up at the windows of the big room the lab pack was staying in.

"I don't want to leave," he said softly, eyes slowly coming down to look at Griffin, and then drift away.

"I was so focused on Kep, on you guys, time had no meaning. Nothing did, except you guys, except her, or the things related. I wasn't... thinking." His eyes narrowed as he tried to remember.

"I knew I was dead, but it was less important. It was just a fact. It was a reason to hate the Elkyones and the labbies. One slightly less important than the fact of what they were doing to Kep."

His voice sounded far away, thin.

"And then they showed up and busted you guys out. I just followed. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't think what else to do, I just did it. And now I'm here and...."

He inhaled, as if he could breathe in the crisp morning air and smell the salt and the evergreen trees and the rich mulch scent of the pacific dirt.

"I miss it. I miss it so much. And I can remember." And his voice was full of wonder.

He looked to Griffin again, blue eyes meeting brown.

"I can remember who I am again, Griff. I know what's going on, and I can think on my own, and I can think about things other than those fucking labs. Things about me. About my life."

[Griffin]

Griff frowned, his eyes full of saddness at the ghost's own saddness. He should have found a way to save him. No matter what Caleb said, it was partly Griffin's fault. At least that is what Griffin felt. Caleb lost his life... he would never get to feel the sun's warmth, never get to run under the stars as a wolf. He would never get to speak to Kepler and the others again. Maybe it was because Griff was so wrung out that he had to look away and wipe his eyes a little. It wasn't fair, it truly wasn't.

"Caleb, I wish you lived... I wish I had done something to save you," Griffin said softly. "Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?" It was the least Griffin could offer. After all, Griffin had failed, no matter how others tried to convince him otherwise. He had managed to get a good portion of the pack from the labs... at least they were free. But his failures... they had died. So many had died, and Griffin felt so very tired. He closed his eyes a little. He was so so so very tired.

[Caleb]

Caleb reached out his hand, and laid it over Griffin's. The feel was of his touch was light, wispy, cold. More like a bank of fog trying to form a solid shape and resting atop Griffin's hand.

"Just keep being you." He smiled, a little.

Keep them safe. Help them to get better. Make them whole again.

He looked away, remembering something Dr. Mazuo, uh, Zea, had asked, along the same lines.

"And don't tell them I'm here."

He wasn't ready for it yet.

"As a favour. Please."

He smiled back at Griffin, again, indescribable and sad.

[Griffin]

Griffin felt a very very cold not quite substant pressure on his arm. He looked and saw that Caleb was touching him. Slowly he looked up at the ghost, once more feeling saddened that a life had been ended when there had been so much promise for such a rich life.

Griffin chuckled softly without humor, but kindly at Caleb's request. He heaved a sigh in response as he considered those words.

"I'm trying, Cal, I am" Griffin said to the ghost. He pulled the blanket tight around him, feeling chilled just by the air. Pathetic, Griffin thought sadly. I am so weak right now. "...I will. I promise you that." And Griffin would. He knew he would, even if it killed him. This was his responsibility, and though it had been thrust upon him from circumstances that were very unfortunate, Griffin dared not shy away from it. Especially now, especially when they had escaped.

Griffin was a bit surprised at Caleb's request.

"I won't... but... don't you want others to know you said goodbye?"