Chapter 3
Still, Caleb's not enough of an asshole to take out his anxiety on this stranger.
He unclenches his fists and exhales shakily.
Since he can't answer her question honestly without wanting to rip out his own hair, he says, "Sorry, you said there was a call?"
"Yes." The woman's eyes go a little wide.
"It's Fiona Blake."
It takes Caleb a moment to process that.
When he does, he asks, "Fiona?" just to be sure.
"Yes, sir." The woman holds out a cordless handset.
"Would you like to take the call?"
Caleb swallows, nods, and extends his arm.
As soon as the bulky phone is in hand, he clutches it to his ear and breathes "Fiona?"
"Where are you?" she demands.
"Northgate General."
"Is Dmitri okay?"
"I don't know.
They took him away for tests."
"I'm coming."
"What?" Caleb blinks.
"No.
You're in the middle of a shoot."
"We're right down the street, and I'm not in this scene.
It's fine." Her voice goes a little more distant for a second, and Caleb hears her call, "It's fine, right?" Caleb can't hear the reply, but Fiona says, "Thanks!" and then she's talking to him again.
"Sit tight.
I'll be there in ten.
Do you need anything?"
Yes. He needs to be with Dmitri right now, to be in his arms.
He needs Dmitri to be alright with the fact that Caleb as good as outed them on public television.
He needs his head to stop spinning and his chest to unclench.
And he fucking needs Dmitri to be okay.
"No," he says on a tight exhale.
"But it would be great if you could come."
"Already on my way."
When the door swings open eight minutes later, it's not Fiona, but a tall, beautiful woman with curly hair that Caleb immediately recognizes from Dmitri's SnapGrid photos.
He pushes himself up from where he'd been hunched in one of the creaky, vinyl chairs, and forces a smile.
"Hi.
You must be..."
"Katerina," she says, striding into the room.
"And you are Dmitri's John."
"Yeah," Caleb agrees, then blinks when he fully processes her words.
"Oh, uh, no. It's Caleb, actually."
"Sure.
Whatever." Katerina waves that away like it doesn't matter at all, like she hasn't just casually mentioned his deepest secret in a public waiting room ten seconds after meeting him for the first time.
Only it isn't a secret any more, is it?
Caleb feels the ground shift under him at that reminder, has to reach out to brace himself against the wall as he watches Katerina striding towards him.
Nothing has felt stable since Dmitri hit the ice.
Dmitri's the one with the head trauma, but it's Caleb who can't seem to catch his balance.
He feels even more unsteady when he realizes that Katerina's still moving forward.
She steps in close, too close, right into Caleb's personal space, and lays a soft hand on his arm.
Caleb should feel uncomfortable.
He doesn't enjoy casual contact as a rule (with very few exceptions).
But there's something about this woman's loose stance, the careless tilt of her shoulders and the elegant arch of her neck that echoes Dmitri even more than the soft rounding of her vowels.
It shouldn't be comforting, but for some reason it is, like a tiny piece of Dmitri is here in this room.
Caleb takes a sharp breath in, fighting the knot forming in his throat.
"How are you?" Katerina asks.
"You mean Dmitri?
They took him back for testing, and no one's come out to—"
"No," she cuts him off.
"I mean you.
Dimochka will be fine." She says it with an air of 'or else' that leaves no room for any other outcome.
"His skull is thick.
He will be alright.
It is you he will be worried about."
"I'm..." Caleb searches for words.
He can't honestly say he's fine, so he lets the sentence die, then clears his throat and asks.
"How did you get here?
How did you know where to find us?
Uh, him?"
"I was in town visiting some friends.
And I am his emergency contact."
"Oh." Of course.
It makes sense.
It's not like Dmitri has any family in the states.
Or any family that he's on good terms with at all.
It shouldn't matter that Dmitri's gorgeous one-time lover is the person who gets this call.
And it's completely ridiculous to feel even a hint of jealousy about it when Dmitri's somewhere in the bowels of this hospital, hurt and alone and...
Despite the polite smile that Caleb is still desperately clinging to, some other emotion must have crossed his face because suddenly Katerina moves even closer, pulls one of Caleb's hands into both of her own, and looks deep into his eyes.
"John," she starts.
"Caleb," he corrects a little helplessly.
"Caleb," she allows.
"You must know, Dmitri is mine." Caleb's stomach drops, but Katerina's already shaking her head.
I am saying this wrong.
He is mine.
But not like he is yours.
He is my friend.
My family.
And I am his.
More than any of those bastards in Morvana.
We have known each other forever, and I will always love him.
And I know he loves me.
But we are not for each other.
He is for you.
And I think you are for him, too, yes?"
Caleb bites his lip, tears stinging at his eyes as he releases a shaky breath.
He nods.
"Good.
You make him happy.
And you drive him crazy.
And if you are not okay, he will not be okay.
So you have to be okay."
"Okay," Caleb echoes, and he finally drops the fake smile and reaches up to rub at his forehead.
"Yeah.
Okay."
"Come here," she says, and tugs him back to one of the stupid plasticy chairs.
"Sit down.
I will get you a drink.
Ginger ale?"
Caleb raises an eyebrow.
"How did you—"
"Dmitri is an idiot in love, and he cannot stop himself from talking about you.
Mostly bad things, of course."
Before Caleb can splutter a reply, the door opens again, and this time it is Fiona.
She races across the room, drops the bag she's carrying on the floor, and slams into Caleb, wrapping him in a tight hug.
"Oh, hon," She breathes into his neck.
"This is such utter shit."
"It really, really is," Caleb agrees, returning the embrace.
After a long second she pulls back.
"You look wrecked."
"Yeah." Caleb closes his eyes.
"I feel it."
"Any news about Dmitri?" she asks.
"Not yet.
He was talking in the ambulance, but definitely out of it.
They took him back for tests half an hour ago."
"And Leo?"
Caleb blinks.
"Leo?"
"He's here too, right?" She asks.
The heavy weight in Caleb's gut suddenly gains another ten pounds.
"Why is Leo at the hospital?"
It's Katerina that answers.
"Because he broke his fist on Donovan's face."
"What?
" Caleb demands.
"Of course," Katerina nods to herself.
"You were focused on our Dmitri and did not notice when your tiny friend threw himself at that giant asshole."
"But..." Caleb scrambles to make sense of what they're telling him.
"Donovan is on our team.
Why did Leo..."
"It was a dirty hit," Fiona answers this time.
"And Donovan said some pretty shitty stuff when he saw how you reacted after Dmitri went down."
"He...
what?
How do you know what he said?"
"Your mic picked it up," Katerina says.
"They played it on SNN.
You did not hear him?"
"No," It sounds more like a gasp than an actual word, because oh god, his mic. Another thing he'd dropped in that random back hallway, but not before he'd spilled his heart out on the ice in front of the ref and the medics and—and the entire world on live fucking television apparently.
It was bad enough when Caleb thought people had just seen his reaction.
But the fact that they'd heard it, too...
He's never been all that good with words.
He tries to remember what he'd said, what the world had heard, but his head is spinning, and he can't catch his breath.
"Oh, God." Caleb sinks into the chair behind him and lets his face fall into his hands.
"I really outed us on live TV.
Dmitri's going to kill me."
"He will not." Katerina sounds confident.
"He will be thrilled.
Trust me."