theirgoldenboy: (This weight on my shoulders)
3. "Children begin by loving their parents. After a time they judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them." - Oscar Wilde

It wasn't supposed to be like this. )
theirgoldenboy: (This weight on my shoulders)
There wasn't much in his world, just then.

There was a pair of warm hands, holding him against a warm arm, wool of a sweater scratchy. Such big strong hands, like they could hold all the world; they could hold most of him, in fact.

His own little stubby fingers were wrapped tight into dark hair, straight and nice and smooth against his palm. He wasn't tugging much.

And there was that deep voice rumbling low and amused in the chest Caleb was pressed against, besides heartbeat.

There wasn't much in his world, just then, but everything was all right.

~~~ )
theirgoldenboy: (Looking down (cap: Danvers))
There are people who seem to have lost the ability to appreciate how special a celebration for a very small number like two can be.
theirgoldenboy: (Default)
Making lists of people, getting cards, writing individual messages, addressing them, and mailing them, both for me and for Mother - there have been years when the whole lot of that has been a valid way to avoid thinking about the actual holidays.
theirgoldenboy: (The brightest smile)
He rediscovered the love he'd once held for his home as he feasted his eyes on Sarah's marvel at the transformation for celebration, when his mother's mourning was set aside for the celebration of life in the middle of winter.
theirgoldenboy: (Looking down (cap: Danvers))
The Christmas tree, familiar, familiarly adorned, familiarly stocked with presents under it, looked way too huge when it was just Caleb and Evelyn standing beside it.
theirgoldenboy: (Pain and power and rain)
http://i39.tinypic.com/x1hmb7.jpg

He couldn't find Chase, among the flames.

It didn't matter. He could see Sarah. Sarah, whom Chase had come this close to killing. So close, really, that if Caleb didn't reach her and take her out now, he would succeed.

It was a balance. The flames were feeding his power and drying out his body, choking down his lungs. But he could heal himself enough to deal with that.

And then they were out in the rain, and she was alive, and it would be alright. The world was aglow, patterns and swirls and power lines all around him. The rain. The storm. Her beating heart. The houses he could not see; the towns that his mind knew were there. The people in them.

Power and rain. Exhilaration.

Pain. )
theirgoldenboy: (Sons of Ipswich)
The future is not set.
I've been told I said that once.
Many years from now.
It was a warning.
That I was going to hell.
But if I fought hard enough, I could escape.
I believed it for a lifetime. -John Connor



Cutting for length. And backstory; age 14. )
theirgoldenboy: (Oh yeah? smile)
After this. If anyone wants to call him/run into them later that evening, feel free to tag, etc.

Cutting for length. But it's nice? )

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theirgoldenboy: (Default)
Caleb Danvers

July 2011

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