Chapter Text
Caleb Widogast was no stranger to pain.
He’d had yet another flare a few weeks after he first met Nott. They’d been in the middle of a ‘Prince and The Popper scam’ when he’d felt it: a heady warmth spreading up his legs that quickly turned into an intensity that made him feel like his blood was being boiled inside his veins—the flares, they always conjured at the worst times.
Nott had noticed immediately. She’d cut the scam short, leaving their unfortunate victim confused and quickly pulled him into a side alley.
“What’s happening!” Nott’s voice was pitched with panic as she looked him over.
Caleb gritted his teeth as the muscle spasms started “I just need a moment.” but he knew a moment wouldn’t solve this, the longer he was on his feet the longer the pain would take to die down.
“You look like you have a fever.” she put a palm to his forehead “Maybe, you do have a fever.”
“It is not that kind of sickness.” Caleb curled into himself and hoped this wouldn’t be a long episode but knowing the truth.
Nott found shelter for them—if you could call a half-caved-in roof of an old dock house shelter.
It was there that she suggested he take off his coat. Caleb shivered despite the uncomfortable warmth; the idea of shedding his layers in front of her made his throat dry—Caleb had begun to sweat…..but it was what he needed.
Slowly, he allowed the goblin to help him out of his shit-stained coat. She winced, but it wasn’t from the smell—she had gotten used to that by now; Nott had noticed how light he was the first day they’d met and now she was seeing just how skinny and possibly malnourished he was.
Even with his shirt and trousers still on, he’d never felt more exposed.
She helped him out of his gloves and boots next, revealing a red coral-like pattern on the skin of each limb. He had used fire today.
In his youth, he had discovered that magic seemed to irritate his condition, both causing and worsening the flares.
“I don’t know what else to do.” said Nott as she folded his clothes into a pile.
Caleb sighed feeling a seaweed stenched breeze on his exposed skin. He leaned back “We just need to wait this out, it will cease eventually.”
“Caleb?”
“Hmm?”
“Is this a curse?”
“That is one way to describe it. It’s a disease, I’ve had it since I was young.”
“Well, we’re in this shit-hole together now so why don’t you tell me everything you know. Triggers, remedies?” She sat down beside him, putting her cold hands around his heated ones.
“I want to help.” she added and the smile she gave him was genuine.
“Alright, Nott The Brave. We will be here a while anyway.”
When they started traveling with the others, walking seemed to be all they did. Nott had gotten good at telling when Caleb was in pain. She was usually the one to pipe up and suggest they rest—he was grateful she didn’t put attention on him when she did this.
Molly and Beau, being the most perceptive of the group, clearly noticed, but they kept their inquiries to themselves. For now.
On one of those days, Caleb collapsed not-too subtly against the nearest tree.
“Cay’leb, are you alright.” Jester was crouched down in front of him, her horns tilted to one side.
Nott seemed to spawn out of nowhere. “Oh, he’s fine! Just needs a bit of rest the same as we all do!”
Fjord—noticing Nott's attempts to shoo Jester away—hollered to her on the other side of camp.
“Caleb, I have an idea.” said Nott, once Jester had skipped off. “It does involve you standing up though.”
Caleb nodded and ignored the pain spiking through his calves as he stood. He felt like his nerves were contracting and writhing away from the heat cascading through his veins. He clenched his teeth, unknowingly biting his lip as he felt the muscles in his left calf tighten.
Nott led him over to the nearby river. Away from camp, she took off his boots and socks and rolled up the cuffs of his trousers.
A gasp of relief flooded through him once she set them into the river. It was the beginning of spring, so the snow from the mountains was melting into the water ways.
“I’m surprised steam isn't rising from those.” Nott was beside him, though she was skittishly keeping some distance between her and the water.
He flexed his toes against the cool rocks, leaning forward to dip his hands in. “This is very good Nott, I will note this for next time.” Because there would be a next time, there would always be the worry and the anticipation of another flare.
The water rushed against his legs. He never wanted to leave this place, but he knew he would have to, knew he’d have to deal with the persistent muscle cramps that came at night and the bruised feeling that came in the morning, but at least he knew another tool to manage the pain.
“I am grateful for your company.” He put an arm around her small shoulders and she stiffened as the movement pulled her closer to the water.
“I like yours too, Caleb.”
The relief Caleb had when they’d purchased the wagon couldn’t be measured. He was finally able to rest and work on his spells whilst on the move. Jester was able to draw better too. There had been a few instances where she had been walking while her nose was buried in her sketchbook. One of them had to catch her when she would ultimately trip.
Caleb looked up from his book; Jester was sight seeing, pointing out every tree and flower out to Molly. Fjord had his arm out in front of her, waiting to catch her if she fell. Beau was on the opposite side of the wagon; her arms were crossed, watching Jester with an expression he couldn't read. He looked down at the goblin sleeping against his side.
He was beginning to like their company too.
“Caleb, love.”
White hot pain was spreading up his arms. His arcane fire didn’t burn him physically—it never did unless he let it.
He opened his eyes and found he was surrounded by six worried faces.
He had conjured a fireball, enough to consume the entirety of his enemies. The screams had rendered him into a catotonic state. He blinked away the fog in his mind, seeing his friends more clearly.
There was a hand on his shoulder. “We're a group now, I’m not going to tell you that ‘as a group we need to keep no secrets’ some things are best kept to ourselves but when something is affecting you like this, you need to let us in.” Molly was talking, his voice like a mother trying to coax a child into helping them understand. “We just want to help and I want to hear it from you, not Nott, Caleb.”
Caleb gulped, not knowing if Molly meant him telling them why he was afraid of fire or why his skin turned red after he summoned it—or both.
He could lie. He didn’t have to tell them—he didn’t want to tell them. Nott was one thing, but a whole group of people worrying about him, agonizing about what he needed and when he needed it was an overwhelming thought.
Worrying would slow them down, that would annoy them and them knowing would make him more of a burden than he already was.
Nott put a hand on his shoulder and as if reading his mind said: “you're not a burden.”
Beau was the next to speak “Lets tell you this in a language you’ll understand: You need to tell us, because the odds are it will benefit us as much as it would you.”
Caleb pressed his lips together. Beau was right, so was Molly. They were a group. He decided he would tell them only the ‘condition part.’ and hoped they wouldn’t ask him about the ‘afraid of fire part.’
Nott cupped her hands around his as he explained to them his situation. They listened, asking questions and offering reassurances through it all.
“We're happy to help!” Said Jester.
“I can carry you when you get tired.” Offered Yasha.
“My blood turns to ice, I’d be glad to lend you some when you need it.” Bolstered Molly.
There was a lot happening, but it was a start. Caleb smiled, small, rare and genuine. He was surrounded by support.
This was a warmth he wasn’t opposed to.