Too Late To Apologize?, tag: Kalen

Wednesday, July 11th
12:54 PM

Ephraim had spent the past two and a half weeks in utter hell. He hadn't heard from Kalen, but he knew from continuously calling the Motel where he was sure Kalen had to be, that his friend was still alive. What he didn't know was what kind of shape he was in, or even if they were still friends. Of course he had hoped for the best, hoped that they would be friends for a long time, but he also knew that there was a strong chance that things were over for them, and not just in the romance department. Ephraim still loved Kalen, but he knew that he had put a whole lot of pressure on his friend, and sometimes when you did that, it didn't work out well. He was terrified that he had lost Kalen, but if he had, that was just something that he had to deal with. However, in recent days, he had been working on fixing himself, on becoming a better person, and one step of that, at least for him, was to write letters to the people that he had wronged, the people that he owed apologies too. He had written them to Harlow, to Jodie, to Mac Pearson, and even one to his boss, but right now he knew that he could no longer put off the one that really needed to be written, the most important of all of them. He wouldn't send any of the ones he had written until he had one for Kalen, because Kalen was the man he loved, the person who's life he had destroyed, and the person that he wanted to help the most.

Ephraim sat down at his desk, deciding that typing wasn't going to cut it, not with this. He was going to write Kalen a real, honest to goodness, handwritten letter, and if Kalen couldn't read it, well, Ephraim would translate. However, years of writing and writing had given Ephraim fairly decent penmanship, so he didn't anticipate a problem, at least not there - the problem would be in what to write, and he knew that was not going to be easy. He had so much to say, and he wasn't sure how to format it, how to structure it in a way that would work well, in a way that would get across everything he needed to convey, how to say everything that had to be said. He loved Kalen, and it was important that he show not only his love, but also his remorse for what he had done, his desire to be a better person, and his commitment to being there for Kalen during this difficult time, even if his actions had torn their love asunder. He wasn't ready to give up on their friendship, and not really on their love, either, but once Kalen said no, that would be his sign...however, Kalen hadn't said no, not yet. With a heavy sigh, Ephraim put his pen to paper and began to write, not at all sure what to expect.

Dear Kalen,

You must know who this is, who else would write to you like this? But regardless, it s me. Ephraim. I am writing to you because I do not know if either of us has it in us to have this conversation face to face…if we did, we probably would have gone down that road already by now. First off, I have to tell you that I am sorry. I am so sorry for the way that I acted, for the things that I did and for destroying the foundations that your whole life was built upon. I did not think of the consequences for you or for anyone else when I came to your house that night, I was only thinking of myself – and yes, I had balanced out the consequences that I, personally, could face, but I did not think of anyone else, and for that and so much more, I am truly sorry. I do not know how to explain what you are to me, Kalen, I just need you to know that what I did that night was rash, it was stupid, and while it was never intended to hurt you, I regret that I put you in the position that I did…that I ruined your life.

There are so many things that I need to say to you, and frankly, I do not blame you if you do not read them all, because what I did to you, well, it was unfair and it was selfish, but I am writing this, hoping, praying, even, that you will read it, that you will give me the honor I do not deserve and hear me out. Secondary to apologizing, I think that it is important for me to tell you how much I care about you, not just as a lover, but as a friend. I know that you may have trouble seeing that, because I have not been acting the part of friend recently, but I truly do care for you, and I want a chance to make up for what I did, for the way that I came in and made myself a wrecking ball in your world. I never meant to hurt you, but I did anyways, and I want you to know that it was not out of hate that I did those things, but out of a selfish stupidity. It does not mean that I do not care about you, that I do not want our friendship to continue, even if our love does not…

…that being said, Kalen, I love you. Yes, as a friend, but also as so much more. I have never said those three words to anyone, not even my parents, really, but with you, I mean them. I do not know if I can describe how much it means to me to have been able to say that to someone, and to have that person be you, the person who showed me love and caring, compassion and kindness even when I least deserved it, well, I am not surprised. If anyone was going to break through every single one of my many layers, it was always going to be you…I just never saw it, not until it was hitting me in the face, at least. I wanted this to be one of those letters, the kind that was filled with eloquence and grace, beautiful words and everything that I always wanted to say to you, but never did, and it is not turning out like that at all, but instead a hurricane of emotions, of everything that I am feeling for you, of everything that I need you to here, but what it all boils down to is that I love you, and when I came to your house that night, it was because of that love, a selfish, blind love paired with intense jealousy and a need to have you to myself. It was not right, confronting you in your home, and it was absolutely not right to tell Jodie what I did, but I was not thinking about you, and that was wrong, especially since it was love for you that was pushing me. I should have thought more of you, and less of myself.

I do not know how to put into decent words how you make me feel, but I do need you to know that so much more than just showing me how to love, you changed my life, and for the better, Kalen. Before all of this, before you, I was not a good person. I was kind to you, because some part of my must have always known that you were incredible, some part of me was probably in love with you all along, I just failed to see it because I did not believe that I was capable of feeling like this towards another human being, but to others, I was cruel, cold, and even borderline abusive. Because of what I have done, because of what you have showed me, I can see that in myself now, I can see it and I am trying to fix it. I am working on becoming a better person, the sort of person who might, in the future, actually deserve someone as wonderful as you.

In the past, I have used my pain, the ways that I have been hurt, as a way to justify the way that I have treated people, the way that I have hurt others, but I know now that I cannot do that, that nothing, even what I have been through, gives me the right to treat people like that. You showed me that, Kalen. You showed me how to be kind, how to feel compassion, and honestly, most importantly, you taught me how to feel love. Recently, I had been wondering if I had anything left inside of my chest, or if I was dead inside, and I had even started to believe that I was, but then you came along, and you showed me that I was not, that I had love there, and how to access it. You gave me that gift, Kalen, and that is the greatest gift anyone has ever given to me.

What this letter all comes down to, though, is I love you, and I am sorry. I do not know if it is too late for that, or there was ever any room for that in our lives. I understand if I have fucked up anything we had either romantically, or as friends, but I want you to know that whatever you will give me, I will take, because you remain the only person that I truly love.

Yours forever, whether you want me or not,
Jonathan Ephraim Hart

The letter took almost a full hour and a half to write, and by the time Ephraim had signed his name and lifted the pen, his right hand was throbbing. He had never written so much so passionately so quickly, and he didn’t know if it was any good. He didn’t read it though, for he knew that if he did he would second guess every line. This wasn’t going to be published, this was for Kalen, and it needed to be raw, it needed to be as real as possible, and right now, it was. He had never been more honest with himself, or anyone else, in his life. He had used his past as a way to justify his future, but no longer. He was going to do better from now on. He was going to be better, and while he hoped that Kalen would be there by his side, he understood if he wouldn’t.

He didn’t want to wait for the letter to send, so he drove out of town just a short ways to the motel where he knew that Kalen was. He left the letter at the front desk and asked the concierge, if you could even call her that, to call up to Kalen. He was out the door and back in his car seconds later, and he headed home, sitting on the couch, tapping his pen nervously against a blank sheet of paper, waiting, hoping, that Kalen would read the letter, that he would make contact and that maybe, just maybe, they would be able to start fixing what was wrong with them. It was a stretch to even hope that Kalen could want him again, but he had to believe in it, because without Kalen, he wasn’t sure he had anything to go off of. Yes, he would survive, but he would be rebuilding himself, and going through that alone, well, it seemed harder. He would much rather have Kalen by his side through the process, but he would understand if Kalen wanted nothing more to do with him – after all, Ephraim had gone in where he had no right and torn a hole through the walls of everything Kalen knew, and that simply wasn’t right; no amount of love in the world could justify what he had done.

Wednesday, July 11th
4:43 PM

The last two week had been a whole lot of something. At first, Kalen was numb. He was an emotionless void. He went into work the next morning getting maybe a few minutes sleep the whole night. He had done a shitty job and nearly fucked up a huge contract, but how the hell was he supposed to concentrate on something as petty as commercial real estate when his whole world had fallen apart? His boss called him in to his office and sent him home, ordering the just-barely man to rest up and get to feeling better before he came back in. Kalen called out of work for the rest of the week. He didn’t leave his motel room unless he needed alcohol or food, but mostly alcohol. He only slept when the alcohol didn’t let him stay awake, and even then his sleep was restless and his dreams were jagged and awful. His motel room was littered with empty bags of chips, crumbs, and liquor bottles and beer cans that had been sucked dry. There were dirty clothes all over the place and it smelled like something had gone there to die. Maybe it had, in a sense. There was no telling what was under all of that grime. Kalen had really let himself go. He didn’t grow facial hair quickly, but he hadn’t shaved since that awful night and he had a bit of scruff going on. He only showered when he got sick on himself, which was unfortunately happening more than it should. Kalen had no regard for his personal health and safety. He drank to get drunk and developed the habits of an alcoholic while he was at it. The poison helped him stay numb and being numb was a lot easier than opening himself up to all of that pain.

The second week was a lot different. With or without the alcohol, Kalen couldn’t deny the pain. It hit him that he ruined his marriage and possibly the greatest friendship he ever had along the way. He went to work hungover every day, but he was able to pull himself together long enough to get the job done. He always stopped at a liquor store on the way home and drank until he passed out. Every day was the same. It was like he fell into this awful routine and he couldn’t escape it. He had never felt this much pain before. The alcohol helped, but it didn’t take it all away. Kalen had no idea how to patch up the mess that was his life. He had no idea where to begin or if he even could. He hadn’t spoken to anyone outside of work. He didn’t have words for anyone. His family had called, but his cell phone had died a few days ago and he didn’t bother recharging it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He didn’t want to explain to anyone what had happened. He was still trying to make sense of it all himself.

One day, Kalen was stopped at the poor excuse for reception. The lady behind the dingy counter gave him a letter. He kicked open the room to his motel with his foot, threw his briefcase on his bed, and ripped open the envelope. Kalen’s eyes glided over the words in the letter, soaking in every bit of it. He sat on his bed, lost in what was written on the paper in front of him. He knew who it was before the author announced his name. Kalen’s heart did a flip when he realized that there was hope that he hadn’t shoved Ephraim out of his life completely. He read the letter over and over again. When he was down, he flopped down onto his bed, stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, and then reread the words on it. He could probably even recite the thing by now. After a couple of hours of this ritual had passed, Kalen sat up and reached for a bottle on his night stand. He brought the bottle to his lips as his eyes began reading over the words in the letter yet again, but was disappointed to find the bottle empty after a couple of gulps. He threw it on the ground and heard it shatter as it hit something hard. He stood up and looked around for another bottle, throwing the rubble aside. He became desperate, needed the alcohol more than anything. Kalen grasped the letter in his hand, picked up his keys, and headed to his car. He got in his car and went into the liquor store to pick up a bottle of cheap whiskey. He didn’t care what it was as long as it got him drunk.

Kalen took a few sips of the liquid before starting his car. He intended on going back to the motel, but he found himself instead in Evergreen. Specifically, he was in the parking lot of Ephraim’s apartment complex. He didn’t know how he got there, but he was parked diagonally in two spaces. The letter Ephraim sent him was in the passenger’s seat under the bottle of whiskey. Kalen grabbed the bottle and chugged it. When the burning was too much, he lowered the bottle from his lips and screwed the cap on loosely. The bottle was hidden inside of a brown paper bag. He grasped it in his hand and snatched the letter up in his other hand. Kalen was tipsy and getting closer to drunk. He stumbled up to Ephraim’s door and pounded on it. There was a lot he needed to know. He came there for answers, for reassurance, and mostly because he couldn’t stay away any longer. He guzzled the alcohol while he waited for the man to answer the door. His best friend, his lover, whatever he was now. Kalen needed him.

when Ephraim heard the knock on his door, he felt his stomach turn. t had to be Kalen, not just because he wanted it to be, but because who else could it be? Ephraim Hart didn't have other friends, hell, with the way that things were going with Kalen, he wasn't even sure that he still had that friend. Despite the fact that he knew who was behind the door before he opened it, he hesitated. He had said everything in that letter, and now he didn't know what to do, how to talk to Kalen. He had expected either no contact at all after the letter at worst, and at best, he had anticipated a phone call or a text message, maybe an e-mail. He wasn't prepared for the man to be at his door, he wasn't prepared for Kalen to be here, to have come for him, and he didn't know what he was going to do or say once the barrier was removed.

The letter, he knew, had been an invitation, but what kind of invitation, he wasn't sure. Maybe Kalen was here to talk, to work things out, or maybe he was going to hall off and slug him as soon as Ephraim opened the door, chew him out for being such a shitty version of a friend, of a lover...and while he may well have deserved that reaction, he was far from certain that he could handle it. As much as he might have deserved it, Ephraim knew that his heart would break if Kalen rejected his friendship, and if his heart broke like that, there might not be anything that he could do to fix it. He didn't know if he would be able to justify still feeling okay again if Kalen couldn't forgive him...even if he didn't deserve that forgiveness.

Kalen Teague had been the driving force behind every good choice that Ephraim had made recently, he had been behind every good change that Ephraim had implemented in his life, and the younger man wondered if Kalen would ever truly understand what a positive influence he had been. Nothing in Ephraim's life would ever be the same again, not after all of this, all of these feelings and all of these emotions, but he also knew that he would be a better person, more mature and adult for what he had learned from Kalen. Ephraim knew that knowing Kalen, that loving Kalen had made him a better and more open person, and he wanted Kalen to know that, to feel a part of the good that had started to grow inside of Ephraim now that things were changing, now that he was changing.

Once Ephraim knew that he couldn't put off opening the door any longer, he walked over to it, took one final deep breath, and opened it. The Kalen standing before him broke Ephraim's heart instantly on sight. Kalen looked broken, depressed, confused, and the bottle of whiskey in his hand - the near empty bottle, to be exact, showed Ephraim even more clearly that things were bad for him. This Kalen, this destroyed, conflicted Kalen was his fault, and knowing that he had taken someone was beautiful, as amazing and as lively as Kalen Teague and reduced him to this made Ephraim feel crazed with guilt and heartbreak. Kalen had turned Ephraim into something good, someone worth knowing, and in turn, Ephraim had turned Kalen into a liar, a cheater and now the mess that stood before him.

To say that Ephraim felt bad would be the understatement of the year, maybe even the century, and he worried that the bottle in Kalen's hand was far from the first that he had purchased recently. Getting drunk with friends was one thing, but even cold, out of touch Ephraim knew that any kind of emotional drinking, especially SOLO emotional drinking was bad; it could even be dangerous...really dangerous. This scared him, the thought that Kalen might have turned to an alcoholic crutch to get him through the problems that Ephraim had caused in his life, and he wished that he could do something, that he could be something more than what he was right now...that he could be someone who could fix Kalen and make his pain go away.

In a perfect world, of course, he would kiss the pain away. He would take Kalen in his arms, tell him that he loved him, and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until everything was alright between them, until everything was alright with everyone, but years of experience had shown Ephraim just how just imperfect this world was, and he knew that there was no single world or action that could make this all better, that there was no magic wand to wave the pain away. Ephraim didn't have the answers, no matter how badly he may have wanted them. There was no instant cure, and he wasn't about to try something stupid and half-hearted that would be little more than a band-aid on a bullet hole. Ephraim was done half-caring, he was done being completely selfish, and he wanted to help Kalen...even if it was the last thing that the two of them ever did together. After all, Ephraim had caused the heart break that Kalen was feeling, so it was only fair that his own heart get busted up too.

Ephraim did then the only thing that he could think of, and the only thing that his body and mind would let him do. He wrapped his arms around Kalen and pulled him into a tight, tight embrace. This wasn't a romantic embrace, and he wasn't attempting to turn this into anything else, to escalate it. He just held onto Kalen, and he held on tight, afraid to let go, afraid that if he did, Kalen would turn and run, and that Ephraim would really lose him for good. Maybe Ephraim was squeezing too tightly, but he had lost all semblance of that the second the two of them had made contact. This might not be a happy embrace, but Ephraim felt so right hugging Kalen again that he never wanted to let go.

Kalen smelled like whiskey, and while that didn't surprise Ephraim, it did upset him. He hoped that Kalen had taken a cab here, that he had not driven drunk, because Kalen getting any more hurt than he already was would completely ruin Ephraim. He was so close to breaking point already, just seeing Kalen this upset...seeing him in a hospital or worse would absolutely be too much. Their relationship had been so much so fast, so god-damned intense, and Ephraim didn't know what it was at all now, though he did know that, until Kalen got better, any even potential romance was going to be on hold. They couldn't dodge questions or beat around the bush, they couldn't act like nothing had gone wrong, because Ephraim had released hell on what they had...and he had now idea how to reign it back in again.

Love was so complicated, it was so intense, and Ephraim could hardly believe that it was one simple four letter word that had brought them both to their knees. Then again, it wasn't just a word, it had never been just a word. The word was attached to a feeling, to a whole slew of feelings, and it was the feelings that had truly brought them to the ledge where they now stood together. Ephraim knew that he had to say something, that he would feel bad, that he would feel wrong if he didn't, but saying "I love you," wouldn't be right. Kalen knew that, it had been in the letter, everything had been in the letter, so what really, then, was left? Ephraim took a deep breath, still holding Kalen tight as he whispered in his ear. "I am so sorry, Kalen...please. Let me help you."

Kalen had no idea where he and Ephraim stood. He certainly had no idea what to expect when that door opened. It used to be so simple. Kalen and Ephraim were friends, the best kind of friends. Kalen may have had feelings for Ephraim back then, but he suppressed them and everything was still okay. He didn’t have to stand outside of Ephraim’s apartment and wonder if his friend was his lover, or if his lover was his friend, or if they were just nothing now. Maybe Ephraim hated him. No. That couldn’t be. He had a letter in his hand that proved that. Jodie was the one who hated Kalen and she had every reason to. Just thinking about that beautiful woman he was only married to by a technicality now caused a searing pain in his chest. Kalen took another swig to drown that pain. He didn’t want to feel it. He wanted to be numb again.

Kalen looked awful. He smelled awful. He felt awful. He was still in his work clothes. His shirt was partially untucked, his hair was disheveled, and he hadn’t shaved in days. There were bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. He only slept when he passed out from the amount of alcohol he consumed and he only went outside when he had to get to work, to the liquor store, or that one time he went to the grocery store. He ran into Jodie’s best friend at that grocery store and hasn’t been back there since. Cassie had practically yelled at him in the middle of the store. He couldn’t blame her. He deserved that kind of public humiliation. It cut through him, though. The most painful part of the encounter was hearing about how much pain Jodie was in. Hearing about how he took a beautiful, loving woman, and crushed her. He could handle the hate that was directed towards him, the humiliation, and the anger. It wasn’t easy to do, but he deserved all of it. He could hardly live with himself knowing that he hurt Jodie like that, though. She didn’t deserve any of that.

The door swung open and Kalen just stood there, frozen like a deer in the headlights. He suddenly couldn’t remember why he was there or what he was going to do. He was pathetic. His mouth hung open like he was going to say something, but his mind was completely blank and no words were coming out. He just stood there, his eyes trained on Ephraim helplessly. As impossible as it was to reduce the relationship with a person you love to a friend, he desperately needed a friend right now. He still loved Ephraim so much, but he wasn’t ready to let himself accept the possibility that someone might still be able to love the monster he became. He still needed time, he needed to fix himself. He was a mess, he was becoming an alcoholic if he hadn’t already arrived there, and he was so so lost.

Ephraim’s arms were around Kalen and it shocked the boy. He was expecting that kind of affection right away. He had cut himself off from any kind of affection from anyone else for the past couple of weeks. He became cold and distant and Ephraim’s embrace was the exact opposite of that. Kalen was still frozen, even with Ephraim wrapped so tightly around him. It took him a few moments, but Kalen’s arms eventually snaked around Ephraim’s waist and he clung onto the boy as if his life depended on it. Kalen buried his head in Ephraim’s shoulder. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the fact that he had been suppressing his emotions for far too long, but Kalen could not keep his emotions bottled up any longer. A sob escaped from his lips. He held onto Ephraim and he cried because he couldn’t speak and he didn’t know what else to do. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that they were standing in his doorway, but he didn’t care. The tears streamed down his face like rivers. He needed this a long time ago and now he simply could not control it. Ephraim was apologizing and saying he wanted to help him. It seemed so wrong to hear him apologize. Kalen should be the one apologizing. He had so much apologizing to do, but right now all he could do was cry. He had never cried publicly like this. In fact, he had a hard time crying ever. There were only a couple instances in his life he could remember crying. It made him weak in his own mind and considering the fact he already wasn’t big and tough, he didn’t need to seem any weaker.

It was amazing how emotional pain felt so real. It felt like physical pain. His heart literally felt like it had been grabbed and was now being squeezed in the palm of someone’s hand. Maybe it was worse than physical pain, though. If this had been a physical wound it would have healed by now or it would at least have stopped getting worse. No, this pain just kept growing. It fed from anger at himself, from guilt, and from uncertainty. “I messed up. I messed it all up so bad.” Kalen’s words were muffled and probably incomprehensible. His words were slurred, his face was still buried in Ephraim and he was still crying. “I—” Kalen’s voice caught and he just cried.

Ephraim wasn't sure what he had been expecting, if anything, when he had gone for the hug, but he had known that a whole bunch of various things could have happened. Kalen could have shoved him away, he could have slapped him, he could have run, but he didn't. Instead of rejecting Ephraim's actions, Kalen responded, falling into the embrace and actually clinging to Ephraim. Ephraim didn't mind, though. No, this wasn't a fun hug, this wasn't a romantic embrace and it definitely wasn't the precursor to anything more...sexual, but it was nice that Kalen didn't shove away, that he didn't try to run from the advance that Ephraim had made. It was important to Ephraim to keep Kalen's friendship, and the accepted hug, well, that was a good sign. Sure, they still had A LOT of things that needed to be worked out, that needed to be talked through, but it was nice to know that Kalen didn't hate him too much to hug him, that Kalen wasn't repulsed by Ephraim's very existence. In lots of ways, Ephraim needed Kalen, and having his embrace rejected might have been too much for him to handle...even if everything that was going wrong was his fault, he still felt as though he were being harmed too.

Ephraim was the root cause of everything that was blowing up, and yes, that did mean that he was hurting himself, but at least he was feeling, and he wasn't just feeling for himself, but for other people. And yes, it sucked that that feeling had to be remorse for hurting those who didn't deserve it, but compassion in any way was rare for Ephraim, and for him to be taking that step, for him to be getting to that point, to where he could believe that what he was doing was improving, that who he was wasn't as terrible as it had been yesterday, or the day before that, made him feel a little bit better about all of the pain and heartbreak that he had caused himself and others recently. It wasn't just him, it wasn't just Kalen, and it wasn't just Jodie, but Harlow, too, and lots of other people that he had left in his wake. He had let his own demons drive him for too long, and he had used their creation as an excuse for the way he acted, at least in his own mind, Kalen was still the only person who knew how truly hurt he had been in the past. Still, past pain of his own gave him no right to do what he had done, and he regretted every person that he had hurt on his journey to find himself...a journey that had started out as a search for a story and ended up as so much more. He had never expected to learn so much about himself in a lifetime, let alone the space of a few months, and he felt lucky that he had had the chance to do so, that he had gotten to see the error of his ways before it had been too late, that he had softened up before he wound up completely hardened forever. It would have been so easy to be heartless forever, and even though it hurt now, he knew that he would not regret this in the long run.

It wasn't until Kalen started crying that Ephraim realized how terrible everything really was right now, and that a lot had to be done to fix it. sure, he knew that things were bad, that Kalen was upset, and that the man was drunk, but crying? That was new to him, at least with Kalen, and it wasn't really just crying, but sobbing, full on. It was breaking his heart and he wondered if there was anything that he could actually do to make this better. He knew that if there was, it wasn't something that he would be able to do overnight. The damage that he had caused was not going to be something that fixed easily and quickly, and he wanted to make up for it, he wanted to be there to help Kalen back to his feet. He wanted to be the one that helped Kalen realize that he wasn't a bad guy, he wanted Kalen to be better, and in order for that to happen, he had to get Kalen to forgive himself...and maybe Ephraim had some self-forgiving to do as well. Kalen wasn't the only one who had cheated, but his situation was hurting more because he had actually cared about the woman that he had fucked around on. Ephraim had had no such feelings for Harlow, and he had taken her for granted and abused her emotionally until she finally cracked, until they cracked as a pair and ended things...something that he had been sure would happen all along. Yes, it was good fodder for his writing, but now it felt like more than that, it felt like he had done something truly evil, and he had a lot of penance to ask, to beg for.

"Hey, hey..." Ephraim, if possible, tightened his grip, holding Kalen tightly for a few more seconds before leading him to the couch and helping him to sit. He jerked the bottle away from Kalen's hand, not wanting his friend to drink anymore. He knew that it wouldn't solve any problems, and he was worried that Kalen was leaning too heavily. He was already drunk, and he didn't need to be worse off. This wasn't going to be a good time to have a serious conversation, there was too much inebriation, and Ephraim didn't even want to try that, to attempt dealing with someone as drunk as Kalen was in a rational way. It wouldn't really even be possible. Right now, Ephraim needed to just be there, to help Kalen get through this night, a night which he was certain would be rough with that much whiskey in his system, and maybe they could really talk in the morning. "Do not say that, okay? You do not have to go there." He began to rub Kalen's back, making gentle circles before pulling him close again. He wanted Kalen to be comfortable, but he also wanted Kalen to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Ephraim was there for him, that Ephraim would stay up all night with him if he had to, and that in the morning, he wouldn't love Kalen any less for it. Of course, he couldn't say that out loud right now, because he didn't have the words, but he hoped that Kalen would be able to feel it in his actions.

Pain was kind of a funny thing. Funny in the sense that it was cruel, fucked up, and a complete mystery. It was a reaction, mostly. You can’t measure it, you can’t see it, but you can feel it. You can feel it when you’ve broken a bone, scraped through those several layers of skin, when some psychotic bitch with a vengeance and a mean right hook decides to take her daddy issues out on you in the least sexual way possible, or when you’ve suffered any kind of emotional loss or devastation. Heartbreak was a silly little word. Your heart can’t possibly break. It could suffer other damages according to your lifestyle or your shit luck in the gene pool, but it can’t possibly break. That’s what it felt like, though. For the longest time, Kalen didn’t allow himself to feel it. He didn’t deserve pity from anyone, especially from himself. He couldn’t seem to control it anymore, though. Ephraim’s arms were around him and suddenly Kalen had no control over the pain he felt and no control over the tears that couldn’t fall fast enough. He hadn’t taken any serious beats to the chest, but it still felt like his heart was being squeezed into a whole lot of nothing and it hurt.

Kalen had no idea how he had gotten from standing in the doorway, leaning on Ephraim, and crying his poor eyes out to sitting out the couch, leaning on Ephraim, and pouring his poor eyes out while Ephraim rubbed his back. That wasn’t saying much. He wasn’t really clear on how he got many places. He couldn’t figure out exactly how he had gone from being friends with Ephraim to not being so madly in love with him. He wasn’t entirely clear on how it all snowballed out of control from there. Somehow he went from sitting at Mancini’s with Ephraim, talking about college and the newspaper, to sitting in Ephraim’s apartment and crying on Ephraim’s shoulder and unable to even hold himself up.

Kalen really did have a lot of self-forgiving to do. It would be a while before he came close to it, though. There wasn’t a person in the world that he hated more than himself. He hated looking at himself in the mirror, he hated seeing others look at himself with those hard, judgmental eyes of theirs, and he REALLY hated when they looked at him with those soft, sympathetic eyes. He didn’t deserve pity or sympathy or anything close to it. He deserved hate. A lot of hate. A Titanic-sized ship drowning in an Atlantic-sized ocean of hate. He deserved to have glass bottles thrown at him as he walked down the street. He deserved to have complete strangers scream at him and tell him what an awful man he was. He deserved all kinds of public humiliation and pain brought to him. What Ephraim was doing, all of this kindness, Kalen didn’t deserve that. He didn’t understand why Ephraim was doing it. Why he still cared, but he appreciated that he did. Having the man you were so in love with there for you sure was a hell of a lot better than having no one. Kalen might not be able to see it now, but being there with Ephraim was probably the best thing for him.

Kalen held on to his bottle for as long as he could before Ephraim pulled it away from him. He didn’t want to see it go. That made him sad, too. What was in that bottle was his key to getting better. It was all that would make him feel better. He just needed some more of it and then he wouldn’t be in as much pain. He couldn’t move though. He was comfortable on Ephraim’s sofa, leaning on the man, and the bottle was just too far away. Kalen shifted so that when he tilted his neck, his head fit perfectly in the nook of Ephraim’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything for the longest time. He just sat there and cried. The sobs welled up in waves, that ugly sound getting caught in the back of his throat as it struggled to break through, and then it was quiet again with the exception of a sniffle here or there. It became a pattern that he couldn’t break for several seconds. “I hurt her.” Kalen said, his voice groggy and tired. “I hurt her so much and—” He got choked up, opening his mouth to speak and not being able to. The sounds that were coming out were ugly and awful and he just wanted it to stop. “—it hurts. So much.” He fell back into that miserable pattern of sobbing uncontrollably, and calming down, and then erupting in sobs all over again. “What the hell have I done?!” Kalen didn’t curse out loud like that, but he just didn’t care anymore. He’s made a mess of everything. A terrible mess and he couldn’t piece it all back together. He couldn’t even begin to find all of the pieces to put back together. “I did it. It was my fault.” He did have to do this because it was all true. He ruined his marriage. It wasn’t even the ruined union that affected him so much, it was the knowledge that he hurt something beautiful, someone sweet and kind who didn’t deserve any of it. How could he possibly justify that?

Ephraim hated that Kalen was in pain, and what was so much more than that was the fact that every ounce of pain that Kalen was in was his own fault. He was the one that had seduced Kalen, so it was his fault that Kalen had cheated. He was the one who had gone over to their house and blown shit wide open for Jodie, so that was his fault, too, and then to make matters worse, he had been rude to her, begged her to give Kalen up, and give Kalen up she had. She had tossed him out and now here he was, feeling more pain that he deserved to ever have felt in his lifetime, and every single solitary bit of that was Ephraim Hart's fault.

He had never meant to do this, to blow someone's whole life up the way that he had, but he had done it to three different people now, and that meant that he needed to take a very, very serious look at his life and the way that he was living. It wasn't fair for him to keep doing these things to people, and he knew that he had to find a way to make up for it, or really, better yet, stop doing it all together. He wasn't sure how he had let all of this happen, how he had become one small person who could cause so much destruction, but he had, and it sucked, but he had to deal with it, with the fact that he had fucked up the lives of three different people. He had done the crime, now he had to help to solve it.

The fact that Kalen was drinking and crying was terrible, but the fact that he had come to Ephraim gave the young writer hope. He wanted that to mean that Kalen knew things were bad and that he wanted to fix them. Ephraim hoped that it meant Kalen was coming to him for help so that he would stop being so miserable and start actually living his life again, that it would mean Kalen wasn't going to be like this forever, that he was going to find a way to fix himself and let Ephraim help with the process. Being a part of that process was important to Ephraim, because Kalen was important to him.

No one had ever mattered to Ephraim Hart the way that Kalen Teague did, and knowing that was something that he was going to have to deal with every day for the rest of his life. It would be so much easier to deal with that if he had Kalen by his side, as a friend would be acceptable, but even after everything, Ephraim still dared to hope that they could be lovers, that they could find a way to be together. He knew that it wasn't likely, but what was life if you didn't try? He had to give this his all because he cared about it so much.

Ephraim wished that he knew what to do. He wished that he knew the magic words that would make all of this incredible pain go away, but he didn't. He never had been good at talking, just writing, and he didn't have the time now to sit down and craft a well written speech...then again, maybe that was just as well. Right now, Kalen was drunk and he needed instant comfort, not anything that would do much in the long run, but he needed it to be enough to go on for now, enough to get him to sleep so that they could have the real conversation that needed to happen in the morning. He had to do just enough to help him get to a good point, then deal with the rest later.

"Kalen, shh..." Ephraim put his hand firmly on Kalen's back, rubbing the circles a little more intensely, hoping to add something of a massage factor to the back rubbing. He wished that he knew how to calm people down, but that wasn't something that he had ever done before. He had always been on his own except for when he was with Kalen, and well, that was totally different because Kalen had been happy then, he hadn't been like this, he hadn't needed comforting. Kalen had been happy until Ephraim had come along, and Ephraim had fucking ruined everything.

He was sorry, so sorry that he had taken this good, strong person and ruined him, but he didn't know how to fix it, how to say that he was sorry in a way that would make up for all of the shit that he had caused. He wanted to help Kalen see that it would be okay, that he wasn't a bad person, but he didn't know how to do that because he had never cared if someone thought they were bad or not...but he cared about Kalen. He knew that Kalen would beat himself up over this unless he dealt with it, and for that to happen, he would need closure. That was something they could discuss in the morning, but not right now.

Closure was a hard thing to come by, and Ephraim had never felt like he needed it until recently, until this whole thing, and he had figured out how to get it...now he had to figure out how Kalen could. For Ephraim, it had been as simple as writing letters. He took all of his feelings, everything that he felt, every ounce of regret, everyone teeny tiny feeling of guilt and written it out along with copious apologies and hopes for the better futures of everyone that he had harmed. He had yet to send all but Kalen's, the one he had hand delivered, but just having written them and knowing that they would go out was enough to make him feel a little bit better. He didn't know, though, if writing a letter to Jodie would help Kalen deal with everything that he was feeling inside.

"This was not your fault, okay?" That was the first thing that Ephraim wanted to say, but he wasn't sure that it was true. It took two people to tango, and while Ephraim had done the seducing, Kalen had not put up any sort of a fight. "At least not all your fault, I had a lot more than my fair share to do with it, okay? You are worried that you have done this awful thing, but it is over now, okay?" He knew that these might not be the best words, but they were true. "Right now, you have to sleep off what you drank, okay? We can talk this through in the morning, but do not worry about what you have done, okay? Because life...it is not always easy, and we are not always good, but that does not mean that we are bad, either." He was using small words, wanting to make sure that Kalen understood each and every last one. "I am going to make some coffee, okay? Do you want to come into the kitchen with me, or stay here?"

Kalen was never really strong. He had been thrown around a bit as a kid because he didn’t stick up for himself. His father tossed him around a few times in a desperate attempt to make his son more of a man than the wimpy little thing he had instead. Over all, he avoided any kind of violence. He was against getting physical as a means of solving anything, but aside from that he was not nearly strong enough to defend himself. He had never thrown a punch, not intentionally at least, and if it ever came down to it it would probably be the most awkward and pathetic punch anyone has ever seen. Kalen was pretty weak in the emotional sense and the physical sense. Sneaking around behind his wife’s back was weak and when it came down to telling her the truth, he couldn’t even get the words out or look her in the eye. That was weak, too. He got drunk off his ass instead of dealing with the problem at hand, and that was really weak, but it felt good at the time. He was learning that that was a thing: things that feel good at the time but are not a good idea in the end. He was succumbing to more of those things as time went on, yet another weakness. All in all, Kalen didn’t deserve the title of man. He was a boy. A boy who hid in his closet because he didn’t want his brothers to rough him up instead of going out there and confronting him. He couldn’t take ownership and he couldn’t defend himself. He was pathetic.

It felt so good leaning on Ephraim as he rubbed his back. Kalen’s mom used to rub his back when he was upset and he was suddenly reminded of how much he missed her. A part of him wished he could be back home, but he knew it would be awful if he was actually there. His father was ashamed of him for a laundry list of things he had done over the span of his lifetime and it seemed like all Kalen could ever do was add to that list. His brothers, if they were to show up at home, would probably laugh in his face, but his mother would be there. He loved his mother so much and he never really let himself realize how much he missed her. He didn’t miss his father and he didn’t miss his asshole brothers. It was a lot easier for him to avoid visiting home because he didn’t want to see them, but it meant not seeing his mom, too.

If Kalen had been in a better place, he would have argued that it was most definitely his fault. He would have told Ephraim to cut it out, that he couldn’t possibly blame himself for any of this when it rested on Kalen’s shoulders. Kalen should have been honest with Jodie from the start. If he had been, they wouldn’t be where they were now. There was no denying it. Kalen wasn’t in that place, though. He didn’t argue because he just couldn’t. Not right now. Not when he was being dragged under by this cloud of self pity. He had no passion to argue, no energy for it. All he had was sadness and self-loathing. Kalen’s mind was swirling with all of these horrible emotions. He wondered how he’d ever get to sleep when him mind was torturing him like this, but he had consumed a great deal of alcohol and whether he liked it or not, sleep was becoming a very real possibility.

Kalen shook his head when Ephraim asked if he wanted to go to the kitchen. He was getting dizzy already and he was sitting down. He closed his eyes when the room started moving. “I’ll stay.” He said, his voice low and quiet. He pushed himself off of Ephraim and curled up into a ball on the couch. He was a grown man in the fetal position and it was pitiful. Kalen was shaking, not as dramatically as he had been, but shaking nonetheless. It was awful, all of it. He wanted to shake this feeling off. He wanted to be done with the guilt that was what was eating at him. Every time he thought he was close to sleep, his mind jerked him awake again with memories of the awful thing he did. Kalen reached for the bottle he brought with him. He just needed a little more and he’d be done. Maybe he could even cuddle with it. Wouldn’t that be cute?

Ephraim wanted Kalen to come with him, because he wanted to be able to keep an eye on him, but he didn't want to make him do something that he wasn't comfortable with. This whole situation was really just one dilemma after another, and this was not a fight that he was going to choose. He had never been good at choosing his battles wisely, but now he was going to at least try to do this one justice, he was going to try to think things through and to not pick fights that absolutely didn't need to happen and this was one of those. He wasn't going to be in the kitchen all that long, the coffee maker was a fast worker, but he knew that he had to be careful, or something bad could happen to Kalen. He didn't know what was up with the boy, but he knew that it was nothing good.

"Alright, well you just stay here, I will be right back." He sighed, getting up and walking to the kitchen, his mind taken over with images, with thoughts of Kalen. Despite everything that had happened, he was completely and totally in love, and he couldn't imagine anything without Kalen around him...though he knew that he was going to have to start. Things weren't looking good, and he didn't want to be the kind of person that allowed himself to dream so fully that he didn't think anything could ever touch him. He was in just as much danger of getting hurt as he was of hurting someone else now, and he knew that he had to be careful. He had put his heart out to get broken, and it was looking like there was a very strong chance that that was going to happen, and that he would be unable to stop it.

Ephraim turned on the coffee pot, brewing the coffee strong and black. It wouldn't soak up the alcohol and work as an instant hangover cure the way that some people thought, but he wanted Kalen to have something else in his system besides the majority of a bottle of whiskey. He knew that he drank too much sometimes, but this was different, this drinking out of pain, this desire to make everything go away with alcohol wasn't healthy and he didn't want his best friend dealing with that, he didn't want Kalen suffering through a bout of alcoholism, and he knew that he had caused whatever it was that was happening to his friend, and that was not alright. He poured the coffee into two mugs and wet them on a tray with some crackers, wanting Kalen to eat something too. He walked back in and set them on the coffee table, sighing as he saw Kalen curled up.

The young man looked so...pitiful, so broken, so messed up, and he didn't know how to help him, but he knew that he had to, because this was his fault, this broken, messed up Kalen was his own creation, and he wanted to be the one that helped him, the one that got him out of this and brought him back to the real world, to a place where he could be okay and not drunk like this, not curled up on his friend's couch, crying and...wait, was that a bottle of whiskey? THE bottle of whiskey? Ephraim instantly felt stupid for not taking it with him and pouring it down the drain. How much more had Kalen had while he was gone. Fuck, he was terrible at this kind of thing, and now Kalen was curled up, cuddling with alcohol. What a fucking mess he had made of everything.

"Kalen," Ephraim looked directly at him and grabbed at the bottle, tugging it away again and running to the kitchen, instantly dumping what was left down the drain. "Don't do that, okay? don't do that. You're scaring me." He gulped, his emotions taking him over as he sat down, pulling Kalen's head into his lap, stroking his hair. "You're scaring me so bad, Kalen...I just want to help you, please..." He felt tears stinging at his eyes, but he pushed them back, he had to be strong for this, for Kalen. He had to be there, to take care of him. "Please, just let me help you, please...please." He knew that he was being repetitive, speaking over and over again the same things, but he had no other words...save for the three he was afraid to say right now, but the three that possibly needed to be said the most. "Please don't do this, Kalen," he whispered. "I love you."

Kalen stayed on the couch like he was told to do. He probably wouldn’t really be able to walk even if he tried. The moment he sat up or stood up or tried to make any movements that were more than small, he would probably throw up. He wasn’t afraid of throwing up, he had done enough of it because of alcohol in the past couple of weeks. Old Kalen would never have allowed himself to get so drunk that he couldn’t control his gastrointestinal urges. The old Kalen would have been worried about the damages it would do to tract or about choking on his vomit in his sleep and dying. But now he didn’t care about any of that. He didn’t care if he hurt himself because, really, he had already done a lot more damage.

While Ephraim was up and making the coffee, Kalen snuck a swig or five of the whiskey. It was down to the last bit now, but his arm felt like it was being weighed down by lead. He couldn’t feel his legs and everything was just—heavy. His eyelids were heavy, his head was heavy, and he just couldn’t move anymore. He was left with emotional shit, for a lack of a better term. It was pain, but it was also exhaustion and frustration and so many emotions. At least he had accomplished what he was going for. He was as numb as he was going to be.

Kalen was, in fact, cuddling with the bottle when Ephraim came back. He didn’t fight when Ephraim took it away, although he did hold onto it for dear life. Even as drunk as he was, Kalen didn’t want to fight. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else. He wasn’t violent, he was just sad. And pathetic. Kalen barely heard Ephraim. He had no regard for his own personal safety, but if he did he’d probably be scaring himself. Never in his life had Kalen been this low. He didn’t like being there and he couldn’t imagine how it could possibly get worse. Maybe if he lost his job, which was becoming a very real possibility. That certainly would make things worse. Kalen hated his job, but he needed the paycheck, especially if he expected to keep funding this new thirst he had. It was kind of funny that he needed his job to pay for the very thing that might be the reason he could lose it. The fucked up circle of life.

It would be one thing if Kalen was walking around hitting the first person he saw, but he wasn’t. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, but he was tearing himself apart. What he was doing was not healthy for his person, nor for his emotional stability, nor for the social aspect of his life. If he lost his job because he couldn’t even take care of himself, there was a slim chance that he’d find anything as decent as what he had in terms of work. He didn’t realize it, but he was self-destructing. Ephraim could try to help him, but in the end Kalen was the one who needed to pull himself out of this rut. In order to do that he’d need some sort of closure or acceptance from Jodie. He’d have to try to talk to her, but not right away. He needed to take it in baby steps. He couldn’t just jump into something a huge as that.

Kalen eventually dozed off with Ephraim stroking his hair. It didn’t make everything perfect, but Ephraim was at least comforting him. His breathing because slower and even as his eyelids drooped down and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Kalen’s eyes flew open. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep or how long he was asleep for, but he could feel something awful and bitter rising in his throat. “Eph—” He said, partially as a panic, partially as a warning, and partially as a reminder of where he was. “I—oh god…” He scrambled to get up, still drunk as a skunk. Kalen’s feet found the ground and he was pushing himself clumsily, knocking things over on the table in front of them and practically tripping over Ephraim as he tried desperately to make it to the bathroom. Kalen stumbled into things and knocked them over, but if he didn’t get to the bathroom soon there was going to be a mess to clean up and it wasn’t going to be pretty. He felt like he was flying in slow motion. Maybe he was. It felt real enough. He charged into the bathroom door and flung himself over the toilet just in time. It was like acid burning through his stomach, up his esophagus and throat. He hadn’t eaten all day and now he was paying for it. It didn’t stop him from puking, though.

Kalen would regret this in the morning. He would hate himself for making such a mess and making such a fool out of himself in front of Ephraim like this. It was one thing to do this in his motel room when no one else knew but him, but this wasn't fair for Ephraim at all. Kalen hugged the toilet bowl even when he was done being sick. He was breathing heavily and crying all at once. This was it. This was what rock bottom felt like.

Ephraim was going to stay with him all night, on this couch, even when there was a bed just a few feet away. He knew that he had to take care of his friend, and he wasn't going to be able to do that from the other room. What they had had been intimate, and what did any of it count if Ephraim wasn't there for him now? He liked stroking Kalen's hair, but he knew that even this closeness, while it was nice, was little more than bittersweet. They had a lot going on for them, and he didn't want to lose all of the good in the bad, because before everything blew up, or more accurately, before he had ruined everything, things had been good, really good, in all honesty, and he didn't want to let that go now just because things were hard. The good was still there, it had to be...he just had to find it.

He was relieved when Kalen fell asleep, because it meant that they were on the road to recovery, at least from the night of drinking, if nothing else. He was certain that his friend was going to wake up with one hell of a hangover, but they had both woken up with that before, and he knew that there were ways to deal with it. It would suck, but in the realm of things that sucked right now, a hangover didn't really seem to be the worst one. Ephraim wanted to make things better, and in time, he was sure that things would get sorted, but Kalen had to be willing to let them, and right now, he didn't think that Kalen was quite there. His friend clearly had things that needed to be worked out, but he fully intended to help him through every second.

At some point during the hair stroking and the sleeping Kalen, Ephraim dozed off as well his hands still on Kalen's body, just gentle touches, nothing sexual, nothing predatory. Yes, he was in love, but no, he was not going to make a move right now when everything was far more than awful. He wanted to respect what was going on, the damage that he had caused, and he wanted people, he wanted Kalen to know that he didn't things like this lightly, that he didn't just discount what had happened as something that had happened; it was a big deal, and he knew that it was a life defining situation. So far, everything involving Kalen was life defining to Ephraim, because no one had made him feel that way, no one had hit him that hard with personality and caring and love, and he didn't want to say goodbye to it. Not yet.

Despite the fact that he was asleep, he was attentive to Kalen, and he woke instantly when Kalen started to speak. It didn't take long for Ephraim to realize what was going on, and Ephraim had to admit that he was glad for it. Getting the alcohol out of his system was, well, definitely important, and it wasn't going to be a pleasant process, but the end result, sobriety, would be good. Ephraim was certain that this wasn't the first rough night that Kalen had had in awhile, but it was the first one that had led him to Ephraim, so the younger man wasn't going to ignore that fact. Maybe the letter had prompted it, or maybe Kalen just needed someone to be with - either way, Ephraim was there for him, for whatever he needed, and right now, that meant running after him, following him to the bathroom, and falling to the tile floor, his hand to Kalen's back.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, get it out," he said softly, resuming his back rubbing instantly, pushing Kalen's hair back as he threw up. Yes, it was gross, but he didn't care, he had no ability to, because helping Kalen, in that moment, was far more important than keeping away from a bad smell ever would be. This was Kalen Teague, the only person who had really seen him, really cared about him, and the only person he had ever shown any care for himself...and care he did. A lot. He wanted everything to be okay, he didn't want Kalen to be hurting, but he was, and it was going to be a long few weeks, but they were together, maybe not in the capacity that they had been, but physically, in this moment, they were in the same place, and that meant neither of them was alone.

"I've got you," Ephraim stated, contractions flying right and left as he let his intense hatred of them go in lieu of a more important regard for Kalen. That was one of the effects that Kalen had on him. No matter how much Ephraim cared about something, he always seemed to care about Kalen just a little bit more, and that allowed him to toss petty things aside and actually be a decent person, or at least try to be. Sure, he was still trying to work on this good guy thing, but this was a step to getting there, and he welcomed it, because he didn't know what he would do if Kalen got hurt. "Is there anything that I can get for you?" he asked softly, already trying to remember if he had a spare toothbrush anywhere. He was sure he had one from the dentist somewhere, but where the hell was it? "Anything at all, Kalen."

It was miserable lying over a toilet puking his brains out and not knowing if he was going to pass out again right there. Ephraim was pushing his hair back and rubbing his back and while it was a comforting notion, Kalen didn’t want him there. He didn’t want Ephraim to see this, to see Kalen like this. He was suddenly ashamed of everything. He was ashamed that he didn’t call things off with Jodie before they had gotten as far as they had, ashamed that he let himself fall for Ephraim so hard when he was married, and ashamed of how he was dealing with all of the consequences now. Kalen’s father wasn’t a huge alcoholic, but there were nights when Kalen was younger when his father was obviously drunk. Kalen promised himself not to let drinking control him or his emotions ever, and he had failed. He failed in so many things. He failed as a friend, as a lover, as a husband, and as the man he was supposed to be. It was all coming into perspective right at this moment when the alcohol was violently fighting its way out of Kalen’s body.

It was so disgusting what was happening. Kalen didn’t have the energy to tell Ephraim to get out, though. As much as he didn’t want the boy to be there for this part, he had no way to get rid of him. After all, they were in his apartment. Kalen hung over the toilet even after he was done vomiting because as he learned the hard way, he never really did know for sure if he was done or not. Kalen groaned as his hand reached for the handle to get rid of that foulness as much as he could. Every movement, every jerk, every sliver of light caused his head to pound in protest. It was painful and awful and miserable. This was always the part of the night where he wondered why he allowed himself to drink so much, but the answer was a lot clearer the next day when a different kind of pain hit him.

Sitting on the floor against the bowl while Ephraim rubbed his back and soothed him made Kalen realize that even if he had begged Ephraim to get out, to let him be sick on his own, he probably wouldn’t have done it. For years Ephraim had been there for Kalen and vice versa and in light of everything that had happened, Ephraim was still by his side. How could Kalen possibly through something as precious and priceless as that away? He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to lose Ephraim, he knew that now. He didn’t think he deserved Ephraim, but he knew he could not lose him. He had already lost Jodie and Ephraim had been and still was his rock. They hadn’t gone through anything nearly as big as this in all of their friendship, but those other years still counted for a lot. What kind of person would Kalen be if he destroyed the only friendship that meant something to him?

Kalen didn’t understand why Ephraim was doing this, why he was making so much of an effort when Kalen had reduced himself to nothing. Kalen sat back and cradled his head in his hands. It was all there: his head was killing him, he couldn’t stop shaking, and then there was the emotional pain present as ever. It was overwhelming and Kalen wanted to be somewhere where he couldn’t feel. Most people would have stopped drinking at this point, but that was exactly what Kalen wanted to do. What he needed was water and something to absorb the fire in his stomach, but that wasn’t what he thought he needed.

Kalen was breathing heavily, his head still in his hands. The only thing he was angry at was himself for so many things. He couldn’t even think about all of the things he hated about himself right now, but the list was growing by the minute. “Drink.” Kalen said, his voice hoarse. His throat was on fire. He would need to brush his teeth, but that wasn’t on his mind right now. Right now he was thirsty and in pain and he needed something that would take care of both of those. There was something else Kalen thought of. Something he really did need. Kalen slumped down even further. He was so close to passing out again, he could feel it. “Don’t leave me.” He said, practically begging. Not only now, Kalen didn’t want to be without Ephraim ever. That was why he hadn’t fought for his marriage. He was only just starting to realize it.

Kalen was absolutely right. He could have asked Ephraim a thousand times to leave, he could have screamed it, could have shouted it, and it would have made no difference at all, Ephraim wouldn't have left him. Sure, it would have hurt to be yelled at, but a part of him was so convinced that he deserved it that he would just let it happen, that he would just take it where he was. He needed to be there for Kalen, and maybe that was selfish, but he was pretty certain that Kalen needed him, too, that he needed someone, and he didn't seem like he was in a place where he could really be left alone right now. He was in this for the long haul, and he wanted, no, he needed Kalen to understand that. He was going to take care of him, really whether Kalen wanted him to or not; coming to his apartment had been Kalen's silent agreement that he was willing to accept Ephraim's assistance.

"Okay." He stood up, instantly getting a cup and filling it with water, passing it to Kalen as he sat back down. Judging by the emptiness of the bottle, Kalen had had quite a lot to drink, but Ephraim also wasn't sure if that bottle had been full when Kalen had started today or not. It could have been half full, so he didn't know for sure...but regardless, it was clear that Kalen had had a good deal to drink, and probably he felt, well, truly awful. Ephraim didn't want Kalen to be in pain, but he knew that right now, the best way to deal with it was just that, to deal with it, to power through it and hope to god that everything turned out slightly more okay in the morning...though it might be hours before that happened.

When Kalen begged Ephraim to stay, Ephraim's whole heart melted. Did Kalen really think that he would leave him like this? Did he think that Ephraim might decide that he was tired and that it was time for bed, and leave Kalen like this, sitting on the bathroom floor, puking his guts out? This was the man that he loved, and he wasn't going to leave him alone if Kalen shouted at him to leave, but to be asked not to, well, it was touching, even through everything else. "Kalen, I am not ever going to leave you," he said softly, pulling the man close, continuing to rub his back. "I am here right now, and I am gonna be here tomorrow, and the day after that and the day after that and for as long as you will have me after that," he said softly, dropping a bold, but gentle kiss on the top of Kalen's head. "I will never leave you alone, especially not when you need me."

Kalen stared at the glass of water for a moment. That wasn’t the kind of drink he was looking for, even if it was a more realistic choice. He didn’t really expect Ephraim to provide him with more alcohol when he had just puked his brains out, but it was worth a try. Kalen’s eyes met Ephraim’s, pleading with the boy silently. He wanted the pain gone. He wanted to be numb like he was just before he passed out, like he always was before he passed out. He gave up and dropped his gaze after a few moments. It was no use. He had no reserve of energy for arguing a battle he was going to lose anyways. He accepted the glass and mumbled a thanks before taking the smallest sip on the face of the earth and setting it down on the ground next to him.

Kalen had hoped that Ephraim wouldn’t leave him, but he didn’t know for sure. So much had happened and he really had no idea if Ephraim woke up one morning and decided that no one of this was worth the hassle anymore, that Kalen wasn’t worth the hassle anymore. He forgot about the letter, the whole reason he came to Ephraim’s in the first place, for the moment. All he knew was that Kalen was not the boy he thought he was. He was a cheater, a liar, and a manipulator. He wasn’t like that when he met Ephraim and he couldn’t blame the other man for not wanting to be anywhere near Kalen.

Kalen’s mouth hung open a little at Ephraim’s response. He was still making all of these promises and Kalen couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t fair. Ephraim deserved to love someone a lot better than a bum who sat on his bathroom floor and puked his brains out. After everything, Ephraim was leaving it up to Kalen and telling him that he’d be there for as long as Kalen would let him. “I don’t want you to ever leave.” Kalen said softly. “I need you, Eph. I really do.” He said as he fell into Ephraim and buried his face in his chest. Kalen was at battle with himself. He wanted Ephraim to stay with him, he thought he needed him, but then he also didn’t think that he deserved his comfort or company.

There was absolutely no way in hell that Ephraim Hart was going to give Kalen more alcohol. Sure, Ephraim was no model of good behavior himself, but there was just no way that he was going to give Kalen more to drink tonight. Kalen was sick, he was so drunk that he was sobbing and puking, and that was a recipe for enough disaster already without him letting more alcohol pulse through Kalen's system. He was worried already that this might have worse effects, and if he gave Kalen more, well, alcohol poisoning would be a very, very serious risk, and that wasn't just something you spent a night at the doctor's for, that was something that could kill you. He knew that Kalen knew that, but he also wasn't sure that anything like that was hitting home for the other man right now.

"Do you think that you can drink more?" Harry asked softly, lifting the glass of water that Kalen had all but ignored. He wanted him to drink water, he needed to drink water, to hydrate himself, or he wasn't going to start feeling any better. Sure, he might puke it up for a bit, but that was better than not having any in his system at all, and Ephraim wondered if he could get Kalen to drink some more of it now, or if he would just have to wait. "Please?" he asked, almost begging Kalen to drink the water. "I do not want you getting too dehydrated, okay? That could be really bad and you do not need anymore bad in your life right now."

Ephraim gulped. Kalen had done bad things, but so had he. Neither of them were perfect, they were both, well, something of a pair of fuckups, but they loved each other, and deep down, that had to count for something. They were both repentant for the mistakes that they had made, and while that didn't make what they had done okay, it didn't make it unforgivable either - maybe for Jodie, but not for each other. When Kalen fell into him, Ephraim just needed him to be around all the more. He couldn't see a life without him, and he didn't fucking want to. Not now, not ever. "Don't you worry, okay?" he said softly, stroking Kalen's hair again. "I'm not going to leave you." He took a deep breath, wondering how much to say and how much to save for Kalen at a sober date. "I need you too," he whispered. "So much."