"Three months ago you were still dead, Caleb! At the day of your funeral I saw your coffin buried six feet under. I visited your grave almost every week! I searched everywhere for whoever took you away from me. I was in hell for almost a year!"

"And now you've been back to me for what? You’re locking me up here while you fight alone, hiding everything from me so you can keep playing hero in my life!? I don’t need it. I don’t f-ing need it—not at the cost of your life again!"

The words burst out before you could stop them.

Just a week ago, you were injured during a solo mission in Skyheaven when Caleb appeared out of nowhere and brought you home. At first, you accepted it—you needed time to recover—but after three days of his stubborn refusal to let you leave, you tried to sneak out. Twice. The second time, he locked you in your room.

Despite him kept trying to act gentle with you, you just couldn't take it anymore.

After your outburst, he barely had time to respond before an urgent call from Fleet interrupted him. He quietly set down your food, promised to check if you’d eaten, and left. You could only stare at the floor, bitterness lingering on your tongue, your stomach churning with nausea as you watched him walk away.

You knew why he was doing this—why he'd faked his death, lost a limb, and was now a pawn in your enemy’s game. He was sacrificing everything for you.

And you knew you should be grateful. He was back, stronger than before. But with death still looming over him... what had his return really cost?

"I left you almost a whole day but you haven’t even touched your meal."

You jolted upright. Lost in thought, you hadn't noticed time had passed and Caleb was already back. He stood by the door, staring at you sitting on the bed. His face solemn but tensed as he then walked closer.