Post by Caleb Lockwood on Mar 16, 2020 5:03:02 GMT
"To everything, there is a season," Caleb looks up at the night sky, outside for once, exhaling slowly as he rocks back against an industrial air conditioner box atop a building, "and a time to every purpose under the heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to harvest. A time to kill, and a time to heal. A time to break down, and a time to build up. A time to weep..." He chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. "And a time to laugh. A time to mourn, and a time to dance. A time to clear the land, and a time to salt it. A time to embrace, and a time to distance. A time to get, and a time to lose. A time to keep, and a time to cast away...a time to rend, and a time to sew. A time to keep silence, and a time to speak..."
"A time to love..." His voice chokes up slightly, and he bows his head, shaking it. "And a time to hate...a time of war..." Caleb clenches his fist. "And a time of peace." He exhales slowly through his nose, bowing his head. "My time of peace has not come. And I honestly don't know if or when it will. I seem to be defined by my conflicts. Who I can pick battles with. Old friends. Old enemies. All bound together by the fact that I was never meant to be a creator. I was meant, at my core, to be a destroyer. Even if it's the season for planting, I'm always in the mood for reaping." Caleb shakes his head again, looking up. "And it's a bitter fucking harvest this year, boys."
Caleb rubs the bridge of his nose. "I won't waste my breath trying to explain to you people why I did what I did. Half of you wouldn't ever care, and half of you wouldn't understand. Just know that I did what I did because I had to, not because I wanted to. I live with that every day of my life. You don't know what that's like. You don't know what it is to give everything of yourself to someone else, no matter the cost you have to pay. I've done what I did because I know that I'm the only one who can. Now, I do it because I don't know what else to do." He looks at his hands, standing up, and pushes off of the metal slightly, beginning to pace forward.
"It's not perfect. None of us are. But hell, I never said I was." Caleb smirks a bit. "I've got the momentum of a goddamn bloodbath in my wake, and I am going to drown this world in that blood if it means I get what I want. Better learn how to swim, kids. The Roulette's a-spinning, and it's going to call my number." He leans in, whispering conspiratorially to the camera. "Bet on red." Caleb shoves the camera aside, walking off and out of shot into the night as we fade.
The moon peeked in through the windows. He sat, perched on the foot of the bed, thankful that nobody was watching. Why would they? They had alarms if his vital signs changed abruptly. No need to hover over the foot of his bed. But there Caleb was. Staring down at him. Wondering where to start. He took a deep breath, beginning to speak, but caught the words before they passed his lips, reconsidering. Another beat. Another. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Ticking away the moments. Finally, he tried to speak, a forced struggle, managing a few words.
"I know...this won't mean much. Especially to you now. But I have to say it. I have to tell you...I don't hate you." He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "I know. After what I did to you? Hard to believe. But I don't. I never have." Caleb steepled his hands as he bowed his head. "I love you. I always have. Ever since you dragged me out of that gutter. I have loved you because you showed me love without conditions. Love without demands. Love without sneering down. You saw me in the gutter not as an object of pity, but as a soul worthy of saving. And that's what I see in you now."
Caleb's hands laced together, and he knocked his knuckles against his forehead gently. "If I thought it'd do any good, I'd be praying right now. But we both know He isn't anyone to be given the time of day. No, right now I pray to you. I pray that I was right. I pray that you're even half of the stubborn son of a bitch I knew. Because if you are, you're going to drag your ass right out of that bed one of these days." He smiled softly, eyes tracking up. "And you're probably going to beat my ass for what I've done. And I deserve it."
"But I knew you wouldn't stop." Caleb sighed. "I knew you wouldn't stop until someone made you, and if it hadn't been me, it would have been someone who didn't care what your limits were. I knew them all too well. That's why I could drive you to them. I know how to walk you up and stop. They would have just kept shoving until they put you under the same toe tag as Spike. I couldn't have that for my brother." His eyes crinkled and lips curled in a genuine smile. "I love you too much, brother. But it was your time to rest. And when it's your time to rise...you better rise like a goddamn phoenix." The sounds of footsteps clacked down the hallway, and by the time the door opened for the orderly, Dean Harper was alone again, chest rising and falling softly in the moonlight.
"A time to love..." His voice chokes up slightly, and he bows his head, shaking it. "And a time to hate...a time of war..." Caleb clenches his fist. "And a time of peace." He exhales slowly through his nose, bowing his head. "My time of peace has not come. And I honestly don't know if or when it will. I seem to be defined by my conflicts. Who I can pick battles with. Old friends. Old enemies. All bound together by the fact that I was never meant to be a creator. I was meant, at my core, to be a destroyer. Even if it's the season for planting, I'm always in the mood for reaping." Caleb shakes his head again, looking up. "And it's a bitter fucking harvest this year, boys."
Caleb rubs the bridge of his nose. "I won't waste my breath trying to explain to you people why I did what I did. Half of you wouldn't ever care, and half of you wouldn't understand. Just know that I did what I did because I had to, not because I wanted to. I live with that every day of my life. You don't know what that's like. You don't know what it is to give everything of yourself to someone else, no matter the cost you have to pay. I've done what I did because I know that I'm the only one who can. Now, I do it because I don't know what else to do." He looks at his hands, standing up, and pushes off of the metal slightly, beginning to pace forward.
"It's not perfect. None of us are. But hell, I never said I was." Caleb smirks a bit. "I've got the momentum of a goddamn bloodbath in my wake, and I am going to drown this world in that blood if it means I get what I want. Better learn how to swim, kids. The Roulette's a-spinning, and it's going to call my number." He leans in, whispering conspiratorially to the camera. "Bet on red." Caleb shoves the camera aside, walking off and out of shot into the night as we fade.
The moon peeked in through the windows. He sat, perched on the foot of the bed, thankful that nobody was watching. Why would they? They had alarms if his vital signs changed abruptly. No need to hover over the foot of his bed. But there Caleb was. Staring down at him. Wondering where to start. He took a deep breath, beginning to speak, but caught the words before they passed his lips, reconsidering. Another beat. Another. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Ticking away the moments. Finally, he tried to speak, a forced struggle, managing a few words.
"I know...this won't mean much. Especially to you now. But I have to say it. I have to tell you...I don't hate you." He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "I know. After what I did to you? Hard to believe. But I don't. I never have." Caleb steepled his hands as he bowed his head. "I love you. I always have. Ever since you dragged me out of that gutter. I have loved you because you showed me love without conditions. Love without demands. Love without sneering down. You saw me in the gutter not as an object of pity, but as a soul worthy of saving. And that's what I see in you now."
Caleb's hands laced together, and he knocked his knuckles against his forehead gently. "If I thought it'd do any good, I'd be praying right now. But we both know He isn't anyone to be given the time of day. No, right now I pray to you. I pray that I was right. I pray that you're even half of the stubborn son of a bitch I knew. Because if you are, you're going to drag your ass right out of that bed one of these days." He smiled softly, eyes tracking up. "And you're probably going to beat my ass for what I've done. And I deserve it."
"But I knew you wouldn't stop." Caleb sighed. "I knew you wouldn't stop until someone made you, and if it hadn't been me, it would have been someone who didn't care what your limits were. I knew them all too well. That's why I could drive you to them. I know how to walk you up and stop. They would have just kept shoving until they put you under the same toe tag as Spike. I couldn't have that for my brother." His eyes crinkled and lips curled in a genuine smile. "I love you too much, brother. But it was your time to rest. And when it's your time to rise...you better rise like a goddamn phoenix." The sounds of footsteps clacked down the hallway, and by the time the door opened for the orderly, Dean Harper was alone again, chest rising and falling softly in the moonlight.
Well howdy there pardner.