Fallen

Chapter 20. The good and the bad [Caleb]

We should just end it all here.

The words continue to play in my head. They don't make sense.

M, standing right in front of me, is not like the familiar angel that I know.

Now, I see him in a completely different light, in a new setting. I see him for what he really is. Someone scarred, filled with fear and uncertainty. I already knew that to some extent, but now, it's clear as day.

His insecurities are slowly taking over. If they haven't already. The vulnerable side of his, exposed. Posing nakedly in the deep forest.

It's like he's changing right here, right now. Something ugly crawling out of him. Replacing him. And the monster is rearing its distorted head. It's growling at me. Telling me to run away while I still can because It won't hesitate to snap at me, taking me along with it in its spiral.

I won't leave. But I won't allow the doubt to overtake either.

I'm trying desperately to see where the sudden distress is coming from. To understand it. And I do, kind of. The situation we're in is unlike any other. But I thought we agreed to do it together. That we had somewhat of a plan, although a weak one. But to just hope.

We were slowly, very slowly, figuring out M's past. Unfolding his position in all of this, whatever that position is.

To me, it's like putting puzzle pieces back together. But the puzzle pieces we're working with are already jam-packed together in odd positions. And before we can actually start putting them in the right places. We need to get them out of the wrong ones first. We obviously need to be careful, or we might break them.

Sure, nothing might actually be going in our favor as of right now. But there's hope, that's what I think. But M doesn't think so. And I don't know how to convince him, again.

"That's not gonna happen," I tell him, my tone serious. There's no mistaking. I'm not leaving him.

I stand up from the log.

The twisted face M makes is an exact replica of my own. But there's a hint of irritation present in his. It's in the way his mouth twists downward.

"I'm not going to leave you," I tell him, and it's final. "We're seeing this through, together."

I place my hand on his shoulder. He's cold, just as I expected him to be.

All I really want right now is for him to come back to the house. I will force him down on the couch and drape all the blankets I own over him until he doesn't feel cold anymore.

His hand wanders up to his face. He clenches the bridge of his nose. Then he pushes my hand off of him.

"Why are you like this?" He asks me.

He's looking down at the ground. Refusing to meet my eyes. His voice is a dead giveaway of his annoyance. Annoyance at my lack of cooperation. My 'unwillingness' to just let him go. To give up on him.

Still, I ask him, "What? What do you mean by that?"

I can't help but huff a breath.

It's almost like a cruel cycle. The way M always ends up doubting every single thing he does. That we do. I wish I could beat some sense into him. Maybe not with my fists, but with my words.

"Why do you go out of your way to help me? What is it about me?"

I don't know why. But I can't form an answer. I can't really find words to explain why. Can't string a sentence together that makes sense. All I know is that it's the right thing to do. Or it feels like it, at least.

"Because it's the right thing to do," I tell him as I see it. "And you're like an angel, so it's not like you're evil and wish for the world to end or anything like that."

M scoffs.

"You don't know that," He shakes his head. "I don't think it's that simple. I'm not good."

He's looking out at the body of water.

He's taller than me, so I have to stand on my toes to fully grasp his face in my hands. His skin is soft under my touch. I can feel the muscles in his jaw clench as I lead his brown eyes down on me.

We're standing close. Almost chest to chest. Cold breaths, mingling. M's eyes soften, but only a little bit. It's still enough to warm something in my cheeks.

"I might only have known you for like a few days. But you're not a bad guy," I tell him, honestly.

His hands wrap around my biceps. Hands large enough to engulf them all around, wholly. I let my own hands slide down to his bare chest. Feeling the cold skin beneath my fingers.

"You don't know that," He interrupts, eyes intense. "You don't know what happened. What I have been thinking."

"Then tell me because guessing will get me nowhere," I urge him to go on. To finally elaborate.

He nods his head slowly, "Okay," He says.

We both end up sitting beside each other on the log again, our legs touching.

I let myself wrap my jacket over M's hunched back. My jacket is nothing compared to a blanket, I know that. And it doesn't really fit well because of his wings, but it does its job. Giving him warmth.

"Things were fine when you left. I went out to where I fell, crashed. There is almost a small blackened crater now," He pauses, licks his lips. "I saw something again. But it was not a memory. It was someone I recognized. They felt real, and they were to some extent. But not truly. Does it make sense?"

He looks over at me, waiting for me to respond.

"Not really," I raise my brow slightly, "But go on."

"It was my father that I saw. He was, is dead. But still there, somehow. He spoke to me. Told me to stop trying to get my memories back. That I had been given a new chance, and I should take it. Settle and make a new life, one worth living, he said."

M halts and looks over at me, "It makes me hate myself. Knowing I considered it. That I even gave it a second to think about. That I still think about it. Before all of this, I was fighting for something, for someone. But now that I don't remember it at all, it makes me want to give in to his words. I'm a coward, Caleb. You shouldn't be wasting your time with someone like me. A man who wants to run from his problems."