Fred and Callie: A visit and a deal

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Fred stops in on Callie, and the mountain manages to move the unmovable object.







Fred, at this point, didn't even bother knocking on the door to the apartment Callie stayed in. Hefting a bag full of groceries over one shoulder, Fred threw Callie's mail onto the ever growing pile that had been collecting over the past few days. He tried to call out to her as he set the groceries down, before realizing he'd left the keys in his mouth to manipulate the door. "Mfffle!"

Fred groaned, happy in his near-certainty that no one saw him try and speak around keys, before dropping them next to the groceries. "Callie...?" he called softly, "You awake...?"

From her position on the fire escape outside the living room window, Callie could quite easily hear Fred enter her apartment. She really wished she hadn't given him a key. Right now she didn't want to deal with anyone. Ever since their return from Genosha, she had basically locked herself away from the world. True, she had gone out a few times for food and other necessities, and Jean-Paul had stopped by to bid farewell, but most of the day she spent either sleeping or watching the same movie over and over, until she felt motivated enough to change the disk. Even that took a surprisingly large amount of effort.

Maybe if she ignore him, he would think she had gone out and would go away, she figured looking down at the joint in her hand before taking another drag.

Fred was pretty dense. It took him nearly a minute to figure out where Callie was, though with his size he was lucky to get his head and shoulders through the open window to look out onto the fire escape. He looked at the joint in her hand, and sighed, "Really, Cal...?"

She echoed his sigh, exasperated. Fred was too stubborn to give up on something, which she used to find admirable, but now it annoyed her. Even so, Callie remained calm, and simply rested her head against the railing to look at the man in her window.

"Hey Fred."

"Hey tah you too," Fred did his best to lean on the window pane, "Tryin tah take the edge off...?" he nodded at the joint, "There're better ways..."

Callie closed her eyes, snuffed out her joint, and leaned her head against the railing with a sigh. "Fred. Are you here to lecture me?" She pried one eyed open and looked hazily at him for a few seconds. "What are you doing here anyways?"


Fred blinked, then disappeared back into the apartment. He emerged again a moment later, a bag of groceries outstretched, "Fresh fruits and veggies, Nutella, and enough cereal tah choke a small horse."

"But...." Oh yeah, she had forgotten to go grocery shopping again. But how did he know? Probably because he knew how such things tended to escape her notice, she figured. And at least this solved the mystery of the fresh fruit, because as far as she knew, Amara hadn't been sneaking home to drop off food considering she was still at John's, and Terry had already moved into Jean-Paul's new place. Callie really hadn't spent too much time contemplating how the food got there, but she had been slightly curious.

"How long have you been," she gestured to the bag. "Amara's not living here right now."

"Since we got back." Fred struggled for a while, trying to get his large midsection through the window. Finally, he gave up and just lit a cigarette while he was halfway out the window, "Laundry, too, if Ah ain't bein modest..."

Callie reached up and rubbed the short locks covering her head. "How long has that been," she asked. She had lost track of time; sleeping when it was light, rustling around in the dark until she fell back asleep. She had spoken with her father a few times, promising him that everything was fine and there was no reason for him to fly over, and no she didn't want to fly over to him, she'd had enough of travel recently. He had pressed her, but that had eventually stopped as well.

"You didn't have to do that?"

"Not terribly long. And there's a buncha stuff Ah do that ain't havetah be done by me. Don't mean Ah don't do it." Fred tried to make himself chuckle, "Hair looks nice that way..."

Her hand dropped, gripping hard on the railing, as she shot him a death look. "Go away, Fred."

Fred exhaled a plume of smoke, trying to keep from wincing, "Ah do, Callie. All tha time. Ah go away, come back, go away, come back..." He put a bit more steel in his voice, not wavering from Callie's death stare, "But it seems each damn time, yah haven't moved but a damn foot or two...!"

Callie wrapped her arm around the rail, leaning against it, eyes closed. She sat perfectly still, hoping that if she did so, maybe Fred would leave, or maybe she would finally wake up from what had seemed like a strange dream. Every time she thought back to June, her mind went blank, fuzzy, with disjointed scene sometimes popping up. It felt like her life was literally a puzzle where most of the pieces were missing, which only served to further that lonely, empty feeling that consumed her.

Fred silently considered Callie, failing not to frown, "Callie. Look, this place is nice, Ah like it. 'S not bad, but..." he sighed, "It doesn't not-suck as much as the Mansion. Why not come back? As much Netflix and board games as yah can handle..." Fred smiled, earnestly but weakly, as smoke leaked from between his teeth...

"I'm fine, Fred." It was a lie, they both knew it, but Callie said it anyways. All those people there, they knew what she did, they had fought her. She knew they probably forgave her, being mind-controlled tended to make people forgiving, but she didn't want to have all those looks cast her. The thought of all that pity made her nauseated, and only deepened the emptiness she felt being on the outside, unable to get back in.

"I'll survive."

"Yah. Course you will. No doubt about it, Callie." Fred struggled again to extricate his midsection and, again, failed. He sighed, "But surviving ain't as good as thriving, yah know? Or at least, surviving with some good company..."

"I can't be there. With people who remember when I don't. I don't know what I did, and part of me wants to know, but I don't want to know. Even if it wasn't by choice, it was still me."

Fred, despite being struck, still managed to warmly rub Callie on the shoulder, "Ain't no one there gives half a damn what yah did, Callie; what they, we, Ah care about is how you're doin, and what you wanna do..."

"I just want to sleep." Callie glanced over at the man stuck halfway through the window, then sighed and closed them again. "I just want to sleep. I'm so tired, Fred."

Fred finally managed to pull himself back into the apartment, and out of the window frame without breaking it. He put his arm through the window, offering it to Callie, "Come get some rest at the Mansion, Cal. Do it for me? Yah can have mah cot iffen yah want. Or a real room. Or tha couch. Yah can have tha runna' tha place..."

She opened her eyelids enough to focus on the large hand sticking out of her window. For several moments, Callie remained completely still, the only detectable movements being the rising and falling of her chest as she breathed, and the blinking of her eyes as she continued to stare at Fred's hand. "Why are you so intent on this?"

It was Fred's turn to blink at Callie for several long moments before responding, "Cause yah ain't happy, Callie. And yah ain't okay. An Ah wanna help, cause you're Callie." Fred, to his credit, resisted the urge to say 'Duh.'

Fred was right, and Callie knew it. He wasn't going to stop worrying, or leave her alone until she acquiesced to his request; he was stubborn that way. She sighed and tentatively reached her hand out and placed it upon his. "Okay," she replied quietly. "Okay Fred. I'll do it for you."

"Good enough for me." Fred said, with a small smile. When Callie got closer, Fred hefted her through the window frame and set her on the apartment floor with one smooth motion.

"I'll go pack then?" Callie paused, attempting to regain her balance as her head spun. "A suitcase?"

"Pack whatever you need." Fred was still grinning slightly, despite himself, "Ah can carry it to mah truck."