Chapter Text
“I think someone’s been following me,” you tell him. Your voice is a hushed whisper, and he can hear the hesitance clashing with unease in it.
He freezes in the middle of his walk back to his dorm. The smile on his face, the one that always forms when he sees your name appear on his phone, falls. His hand tightens and nearly breaks the phone beside his ear, but he manages not to because it’s the single device that connects the two of you across kilometers of sky and land.
Suddenly, the distance between you and him feels much too far apart. He wishes he could reach across it all and pull you towards safety, towards him. In a simpler world, he’d never have left you alone in the first place, but—
“Caleb?” you say. “Are you still there?”
Always, he thinks, the first coherent thought past all the fear and fury beginning to swirl in his chest. I’m always here for you.
“Where are you?” he asks instead, as calmly as he can. He checks the location of your phone, and you seem to be at your university. That’s better than some unknown street, but it’s far from reassuring. He’s already taking a detour away from his dorm, away from campus. “Have you called the police yet?”
“No, oh my god,” you say, trying to chuckle, to laugh it off. Your voice is less of a whisper now, but he can hear that it’s higher than normal. “I don’t think it’s that serious…I mean, I just got back to my dorm, and honestly, maybe I’m just imagining things. I’ve been pretty sleep deprived from exams lately.” You hurry to explain. You try laughing again, and he grits his teeth. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called—”
Why don’t you call me as often anymore? he doesn’t ask. When did you become so insistent on handling everything on your own?
“I’m really glad you called me,” he tells you. Tries to keep his voice soft and comforting, the way you like it. “Hey, you could be right—it could be nothing—but if it isn’t, this is serious.” He tries not to think about how long it would take him to hail a cab, ride the Coelum Express, and get to you in Linkon City. “Just in case, do you have some friends nearby you could stay with for now? The more the merrier.”
“I know, I know,” you say, and are you trying to reassure him now? “I can hear you worrying from all the way over here. It’s okay! I—I’ve already texted my friends nearby, and as soon as they get back from class I’ll stay with them. Everything’s okay, really,” you insist, and the repetition doesn’t help convince him.
There’s a pause, and then your voice is quieter, softer when you finally add, “I just—wanted to hear your voice, gege. ”
“I’m here,” he tells you, holding the phone closer, as if that could bring you closer to him too. “And I’ll be there soon, too.”
“Huh?” you say, alert. “Wait—you don’t mean—”
“Text me when your friends get there, Pipsqueak!” he says, injecting whatever cheer he could before ending the call, and the sudden silence feels heavy. Already, he misses the sound of your voice. As much as he wanted to stay on the line with you, though, his phone battery wouldn’t last, especially if he wanted to keep an eye on your location.
A cab slows down by him. He gets in and tries to keep his breathing steady.
Tries not to think about the possibilities of who could be following you or what they could want from you.
He was happy to see you growing up and navigating your newfound independence in college. Really. He always knew you were an excellent leader—your empathy allowed you to understand the strengths and weaknesses of those you worked with, and your intelligence allowed you to adapt quickly to most if not all situations. You were good with people, resonating with them as easily as you did with other Evols.
But that was the thing: you were good with people, and some people would make the mistake of thinking that made them special to you. Sometimes, those people would make the mistake of thinking they could take advantage of that. Of you.
It would be a lethal mistake, of course. He always made sure of that. Always, because he would never go back to the days when he was forced to watch them hurt and hurt and hurt you . In those days, when he was small and weak and powerless, the best he could do was try to get their attention instead. Let them hurt him instead of you. The pain would never be as agonizing as it was when you were hurt instead.
Now, he’s a lot bigger and stronger. He made sure of it. So if a few high school brats thought they could have a chance of hurting you in any way, even if he wasn’t around, then that would simply be their last thought about you.
But that isn’t enough. There are greater powers in the world, powers like them, against whom size and strength meant nothing.
Are they after you again, now? Would he lose you again to them?
No, he almost snarls. He’d move heaven and earth; he’d rip apart time and space itself if that’s what it took to keep you safe.
Losing you would never be an option ever again.
The lack of security at your university is concerning, to say the least. All it takes is a smile and a light comment about waiting for his girlfriend, and someone sympathetic swipes him into your dormitory.
It’s not long before he finally finds himself at the dorm number you texted him. He puts on his most pleasant expression before knocking on the door. The muffled conversation behind it pauses, and he hears approaching footsteps before the door cracks open, revealing the curious face of a girl he doesn’t recognize.
More importantly, he can see you sitting behind her. There’s stress written into the lines of your forehead, and the dark circles beneath your eyes look almost painful. You look…small, and his hands itch to wrap themselves around you and shield you from everything.
It brings him some peace when you meet his eyes and brighten slightly upon recognition. However, there’s also uncertainty in your eyes as you rise and make your way towards the door.
“Caleb,” you say, and he hears again that hesitation, that unease. He doesn’t like it. “You got here fast.”
“Hello to you too, Pip-squeak,” he says, smiling when your friend moves aside to allow him in. “And yeah, I might’ve paid the cabbie extra to break a few speed laws to get to the last train on time.”
For whatever reason, you relax at that and finally, finally close the distance between the two of you. Your head collides softly against his chest, and he feels the tension in his shoulders loosen as he pulls you closer. Even though he should be the one protecting you, he’s the one who feels invincible when your arms wrap around him.
Then, you’re lifting your head off of him as you try to look stern, even though he can clearly see your lips struggling to hold back a smile. He wonders if you realize you look like you’re pouting.
“I can’t believe you came all the way here,” you say. “Isn’t it like, impossible for you to ask for time off?”
“Well, hopefully it’s true that asking for forgiveness is easier than for permission,” he says with a sheepish grin.
“Caleb…”
“Holy shit,” the girl beside you says, looking between the two of you. Her gaze lingers on him a little longer. “Is this your boyfriend?”
He looks at you and sees that you’re also looking at him. He tilts his head toward you with a pleading smile, but he waits for your call on what to say. You’ve always liked going first, after all, and he’ll follow your lead.
“Yup,” you say, to his surprise, before pulling him down by the arm. You pat him a few times on the head. “Isn’t he cute?”
Well, if you’re going to treat him like a dog… He grabs your hand, still on his head, and licks it, palm to fingertip. You stare at your hand and then at him.
“Woof,” he tells you, and there it is: that spark in your eye. He’s happy to see it again after how subdued you had seemed at first. You hadn’t looked like that—so quiet and small—since the two of you were—
You grab his head again and try to wipe your palm using his hair, but he doesn’t make it easy for you to pull him down, this time. He laughs as you try again and again to grab his hair, ducking out of the way until you’re both practically dancing in an orbit around each other in the hallway.
You’re much more like yourself, now. You poke and prod and prattle at him, and he returns each of your pokes and prods and prattles. It’s more than muscle memory for him to match your energy—it’s written into his very being to resonate with you.
He takes in your determined expression, the slight flush in your cheeks, and he wants to slow down time, or maybe stop it altogether, so that this moment between the two of you could last forever.
He can. Maybe he should.
“Okay then, love birds,” the girl says, rolling her eyes, but she looks amused as she stands in the doorway with crossed arms. As her gaze turns back to you, she becomes more serious. “I’m guessing you’re not staying here for the night anymore, but if you change your mind, you don’t have to ask. Just knock.”
You smile at her, moving away from him to pull her into a hug. You’re saying something to her, probably expressing your gratitude, but all he feels is your sudden absence from his arms.
Like you, he’s grateful—grateful to your new friend for making you feel safe earlier. Really.
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence on the way back to your dorm, but there’s a hint of hesitance in the air. Even though he wants to obtain every single detail you had about this stalker, wants all that information as soon as possible so he can take care of the problem for you, he doesn’t push. He waits. He knows you’ll tell him eventually.
“You can ask, you know,” you say, sighing, and he blinks. You’re staring straight ahead instead of looking at him. “It’s written all over your face, and I feel like you’ll spontaneously combust if we keep walking back like this.”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Not at all.” You hop onto the narrow edge of a garden border, wobbling slightly for a few steps before finding your balance. His hand twitches, wanting to extend out for you to grab, but he doesn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t. If you demonstrated yet another thing you could do without him. You glance back at him, now at his eye-level with your added height. “But I know you, Caleb. I know that you want to know everything.”
Languidly, he raises both his hands. “All right, you got me. Can you blame me for being worried, though?”
“You’ve always been so overprotective,” you say, but it’s with a smile. You hold out your hands for him, and he grins as he accepts them into his. Your eyes widen when you begin to float. “Woah! Hey! Put me down! I wanted to pull you up with me.”
“I’m not the one who needs the extra height, Pipsqueak,” he tells you. You shift gears from attempting to swim your way down from the sky to attempting to swat at his head. It’s not very effective.
When he sets you back down beside him, you activate your Evol and punch him on the arm, using his own Evol to strengthen the force of the blow. It’s…slightly more effective, but he resists the urge to wince and rub at his arm. He looks back at you, prepared to make a comment about betrayal before noticing that you look more pale than upset. You’re staring at him—no, at something within him.
“I must be going crazy,” you murmur. “Unless…but there’s no way…”
Immediately, he’s concerned. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You flush under his gaze when he moves closer to you. “Well, uh, it’s just—I thought, at first, that the person who’s been following me…” You chuckle, looking slightly embarrassed. “I thought that it was you.”
He stills. “What?”
“I thought that maybe you got an early break and wanted to surprise me or something,” you explain. “I wasn’t scared at first because he…felt like you.”
“ Felt? ” he says. He says your name, too, and this time, he’s unable to keep his emotions from boiling over into it. He needs to stay calm, needs to avoid frightening you, but his heart and lungs are suddenly working overtime. “What do you mean felt? Did he touch you?”
“No, no,” you rush to assure him. “I meant his…frequency? It reminded me of whenever I would resonate with you—it feels exactly the same.”
“Your stalker has an Evol with the same frequency as mine,” he says, mind racing. Could he be an EVER experiment? What did he want with you?
“Everyone I’ve ever been able to resonate with has had their own unique frequency,” you say, placing a hand on your chest. You look concerned, but not for yourself. For him. “I was never worried about stalkers—you know I can defend myself, you taught me to defend myself—but…for there to be someone who feels like you but isn’t following me around…that was pretty scary.” You sigh.
“I’m glad you’re here now. I really thought I was going crazy from missing you too much,” you try to joke. He doesn’t laugh. Instead, he places his hand over yours on his chest.
“Tell me everything,” he says.