monstermanual | visitor

He knew, he knew that there was a sectioned-off area in the garage for portal landings, but he'd been in a hurry -as he usually was when he actually managed to find this reality again, which he wasn't going to think about the implications of too hard- but he'd still landed in open floor space, yanking the portal closed behind him and just rolling over onto his back on the floor, managing to rein his breathing in to something mostly level.

Which was right about when he registered movement, and he lurched -somewhat unsteadily- to his feet when he realized he didn't recognize the face. It took him a moment, and about four different varieties of confusion across his face before he managed: "You're not Nik." It was followed almost immediately with a vague, loose gesture with one hand towards the kitchen, since he knew A, there should be a first aid kit there and B, there were chairs that wouldn't actually be damaged by a little blood, "I'm going to go... sit."

As opposed to the other alternate Cal that Gerard met who was visibly different from his own in enough ways, this one was so similar that Gerard couldn't tell right away it wasn't his.

It wasn't helped by the fear and concern that was quickly mounting to critical levels.

"No, he left just a few minutes ago with you - Jesus, Cal, what happened-?" Gerard asked, already rushing to help steady him on his feet to get him to the kitchen.

"With me?" The thing was, Cal tended to be observant, and even in the few moments he'd already been in the house he'd observed enough to know that it still smelled the same, which meant the resident Cal & Niko hadn't moved out -or if they had it had only been recently- but the weapons he knew to expect to see were all right where he expected them to be, which was another indication that they were still here.

On top of that, even through the slowly-ebbing adrenaline and the fuzzy edges on things that indicated the knock to the head had been harder than he'd thought, he knew enough to know that not-Nik had addressed him by name, which meant he knew the other one, which in turn meant that he was safe-enough for now.

He shook his head, catching the back of a chair to pull it away from the table and lower himself into t maybe a little too heavily, "Not with me, with Cal, I mean, I'm Cal but... uh, hi maybe I should walk this back a little, who are you?"

Gerard was observant enough that he wanted to believe that NORMALLY he would have noticed the signs right away. The things that were different between his Caliban and this one. Scars he'd spent time lovingly memorizing were different. Cal wasn't wearing the same clothes he left the house in - clothes he didn't have in his closet. So when Gerard stepped back to grab the first aid kit and Cal started to explain, the momentary panic of worry at what had happened faded enough that he could take stock of these differences.

He didn't go cold or wall up - this was still Cal, but there was a bit of hesitation there now.

He had encounters with alternate Calibans that ... didn't go well.

"Gerard Keay," he answered, still bringing the first aid kit to the table, setting it down and pulling up a chair next to Cal. "... Are you the Cal that's been here before?"

He nodded at the question, already peeling his way out of his shirt to check the gash on his side, even though he had to twist partway around to see it, whatever it was that had gotten him had done so while he was running away. A creature that was revealed a moment later with an aggravated huff of: "Fuckin' velociraptor."

It was a statement that was followed by a backtracking clarification of: "I'm the one that shows up sometimes, eats all the pop tarts, gets itchy after a few days or a week and leaves, why is there another one? Besides the one that actually belongs here?" He ripped open a gauze pad as he talked, pressing it over the wound with a faint grimace. It wasn't particularly deep, and not that long, but it was in an awkward place, as if the apparently-a-velociraptor had been aiming for a kidney.

Gerard was still concerned and didn't bother to hide it as Cal bitched about the fucking dinosaur and inspected his own injuries. There was no way that would be an easy bandage on one's self, so Gerard didn't wait to be asked or even ask permission to assist himself, he was already taking out wraps to hold the gauze in place and something to clean it. He'd done it on himself enough times before he took in with the Leandros brothers and had picked up quite a bit from Niko. It was a fair hand easier for Gerard than learning their way of fighting, and he also took up the overly cautious view of 'I'd rather not find out the hard way that this is the one bacteria that can affect you like a human' when it came to Cal.

"Not here, but I've met others while out," he explained, and even though he'd been living with Cal and Niko for more than a year he still went back to the UK enough that his particular mix of upper and lower class English accent hadn't faded.

Really, the important thing was that he'd heard enough about this Cal to know that he probably wouldn't end up in a physical fight with him, which was what Gerard would like to avoid.

"Hold still, you should at least give that a basic clean before you cover it, I can do it."

He'd been about to argue that he was fine and could do it himself before realizing that no, he probably couldn't, at least not well, and that Gerard apparently actually knew what he was doing, and that was enough to have him biting his tongue and instead replying with a quiet: "Thanks, appreciate it."

He straightened up to make the task easier even as he said: "I'd say that I'm not always bleeding when I show up here but, um, I kind of am." And when he wasn't it was usually worse, but there was no reason to get into that with a stranger just yet.

Gerard had admittedly been a little ready for a fight, but when Caliban eased up and gave a soft thank you, well. Gerard always met force with force. It was how the brothers so easily got under his skin - Niko realized right away that a soft touch cut the deepest with Gerard. He kept his touch as gentle as possible as he worked, giving a soft warning before he applied anything likely to be painful. He also kept his hands on Cal the whole time, only ever removing one at a time to keep a constant touch that could be monitored and followed even without seeing it.

"Mm. Well, even if you could handle yourself I'm glad I was here to help," he said, his voice falling back into softly polite tones. "They found me slowly dying of a brain tumor, so I can't exactly judge."

He did not smell like cancer now, but his first introduction to Cal's super sense of smell was finding that one out.

That was something both Cals -and likely any others- had in common, since the response to that was a barely-there sniff and: "Who'd they get to fix it? Unless that's me being tactless, you can ignore me if I am, I think I mentioned the velociraptor? It's been uh, a little while since I've done the talking to other people thing."

A soft snort followed, definitely amused, "And I wasn't even that good at it to start with." Something else that was apparently just an inherent trait, "Also took a tail to the head before the..." A vague one-handed gesture with a curled index finger, the laziest slicing-clawing movement ever, "Y'know, talon."

The corner of Gerard's mouth quirked up in a smile at Cal's rambling explanations. Maybe it was bad but the fact that he even realized it was possibly tactless meant a lot. He hadn't taken offense, though.

"It's alright," he said first - wound cleaned, he began the careful task of taping it down. "Went to a hospital. Niko's, actually. My dad got migraines, so I always assumed the sudden stabbing pain in my head was that - and sometimes it is, but also I had a bomb growing in my brain. Caught early enough they were able to do surgery and get it removed cleanly, so far it hasn't come back."

Far enough ago now that there was no clear sign of what had happened at a glance. If you knew what to look for, you could find the raised line on his scalp with your fingers easy enough - Gerard sometimes did, himself, without meaning to. But his fine blonde hair had grown out long enough to cover it entirely to the eye.

"Oh. Actual real people help." The tone indicated that was a surprise, though he knew it really shouldn't be, as far as he remembered the Rafferty here refused to help them, and Cal didn't blame him for that, and healers of that kind were few and far between, "That's good."

He also knew he was missing whatever the connection was between that and Gerard now staying here was, but he wasn't going to ask just yet, not that he was anywhere near clever enough to get that information out of him surreptitiously, and he wasn't actually going to try.

"And thank you, again, this would have taken a whole lot longer doing it by myself." And probably a couple tries, at that.

Real people help, yes. They were not close enough then for the brothers to suggest any magical healers to Gerard. He stifled a laugh at that description of a hospital as opposed to a magical healer.

"It's no problem, I like being able to help," Gerard said, sincere. He'd had to basically beg to be put on the chore wheel. "There, all patched. ... I think there might still be some pop tarts in the cupboard. The brothers probably won't be back until morning, though. Job. I think it's a werewolf thing."

He almost winced, shaking his head, "Yeah, if it's Kin that's at least an overnight job, and you know I'm going to have pop tarts, I'm going to go steal one of Cal's shirts first, though." He wiggled his fingers through the ragged tear in the one he'd been wearing, "This one's ragpile fodder now."

A quick little flicker of a smile followed, "And I know which ones I'm not supposed to touch." Though it occurred to him that it had been long enough since the last time he'd made it here that the list might have changed. But even if it had, the organization system probably hadn't. He took a moment to clean up the wrappers from everything that had been used, dropping them in the trash on his way to Cal's room. He was entirely amused to find a shirt that if it wasn't one he'd left there the last time he'd been there, was one with exactly the same print on it, 'had my patience tested, came back negative', and that was good enough for him.

Returning to the kitchen he was likewise pleased to find that the pop tarts were still in the same cabinet, and he jostled the box in Gerard's direction, "You want one? I got good at making the edges crispy without burning the middles." Which was basically the extent of his culinary expertise.

Gerard had a brief moment of mild concern that some of his shirts were left in Cal's room, but if he had they would probably be in the dirty pile anyway. He put the first aid kit away in the meantime, made sure there wasn't any blood spill that needed cleaning up too, and put more pop tarts on the grocery list.

"No thank you - they're a little too sweet for me," Gerard said with a small smile that said he really was grateful for the offer, though. The most pop tart he usually had was a single small bite of one Cal offered him and that was enough for him. "I know my Cal likes coffee more but I make a good cuppa tea if you'd like."

He considered for a moment as he went about unwrapping a pair of pop tarts, dropping them into the toaster and adjusting the setting, "Sure, just as long as it's not the green stuff Nik likes to pretend doesn't taste like boiled grass clippings."

And sure, Cal preferred coffee, but he wasn't going to look a gift drink in the mouth, either, or however the saying went, "Because it definitely does, still not sure how he can't taste that."

Gerard chuckled. He liked a good green tea on occasion, but tonight was a night for staying up until the brothers came home so he was going for the caffeine kick. Of course, matcha was good for that but he was pretty sure that fell under the 'grass' that Cal was complaining about.

"English breakfast it is, I won't even be judgmental about how much sugar is put in," he offered, prepping the kettle and the mugs. Contrary to what his Cal often thought, Gerard did like sweet things on occasion, just not ... the made from mostly sugar stuff the half-Auphe liked.

"So... you jump realities often?"

That first statement got a twitch of a smile out of him, lifting both hands briefly in mock-surrender, "If it's good and there's actual milk in the fridge and not whatever non-milk Nik's using now, I'll only use a reasonable amount of sugar." Granted, their ideas on what was reasonable were bound to differ, but that was beside the point.

He snorted at the question, "And that's uh... not a question with an easy answer. Sometimes yes, sometimes no." There was also the fact that his gates had to go through Tumulus every time even if it was just briefly, and that definitely complicated things.

"Sometimes when I gate I end up in the same place, same reality I left from, sometimes it's another one, a lot of the time I don't even notice right away because there are a lot of them that are really similar." He'd gotten better at recognizing ones he'd been to before, at least, "Sometimes I'll get bounced to a new one every time I open a gate, sometimes not. Case in point, I've been trying to get away from the dino dimension for..." He blew out a breath, shaking his head, "I don't know, maybe a week?"

There was indeed actual milk in the fridge. For cereal, but it would do for tea as well. Though Gerard did not mind nut milks - even if it was a struggle to not make a dirty joke about them every time.

He managed so far, but it was a game of Russian Roulette and someday he was going to lose it.

"Christ, that's rough," he said, sympathetic, brows creasing as he considered what that meant, though. "...What about your Nik?"

He couldn't imagine Niko letting Cal go for so long without worrying sick, but maybe this Cal's Niko was different?

So far the only non-dairy milks that Cal could tolerate -and even then only in small doses- were oat and barley, the rest of them just tasted capital-letter Wrong in one way or another that he'd never really been able to pin down, and didn't really see a need to, in the end.

He just nodded at the initial response, about to answer that yes it was, but he'd mostly gotten used to it, when the question right on the heels was enough to make him go still. It had been long enough now that the grief and rage of it weren't in any danger of overwhelming him, but not long enough yet that it didn't hit him like a kick to the gut.

While the sudden and intense lack of response was probably enough of an answer for anyone with eyes and a working sense of empathy, he still answered: "Gone." His tone quiet and final.

Gerard knew it was the wrong thing to ask the moment Cal went still. He knew how codependent his Cal was with Niko, that this one could survive so far ... it couldn't be without a struggle every damn day, could it? The kettle started to give the first breathy whispers of a whistle and Gerard turned off the heat without looking, moved it to a different burner where it could be ignored.

"Oh - Caliban, I'm so sorry-"

For it happening, for asking about it. Knowing better, that this wasn't his Cal, didn't change Gerard's first instinct at seeing such pain out in the open like that on a face he loved. Always careful to make sure Cal saw him coming, Gerard reached out to hug him tightly.

Telegraphing his movements was definitely the best call, as that kept Cal from bucking away instinctively. He was, however, still tense and unresponsive to the hug, but that was what happened even with the resident Cal and Niko as often as not, at least at first, "S'fine. You didn't know."

The answer was followed by: "And it's just Cal." As far as he remembered, the resident Cal didn't mind the full name, and he definitely did, and he was starting to get a better picture of just why Gerard was there. Meanwhile, he hadn't tried to extricate himself from the hug yet, but the tipping point to when he would wasn't far off.

Gerard murmured "Cal," and didn't push it. Even his Cal had a sometimes complicated relationship with his name, but permitted it from Gerard because if what it meant to him... a bit like how Gerard stopped dying his hair because of how Cal made it into something different than another reflection of his mother in him.

That was his Cal though, not this one. He let go with a final squeeze and stepped back. Fuck, right, the tea. He busied himself with getting that poured.

"Sorry," he said again. For bringing it up. For the hug without asking, the full name in a backwards sort of too familiar when using it. "I'll get the milk and sugar, just a sec-"

There was another little head-shake even as he turned to pull a plate down, popping the toaster and flipping his pop tarts onto it, going about buttering the undersides even as he replied, "It's fine. Really." Though that level of fine mostly hinged on not bringing it up again, which given what felt like an actual apology, didn't seem likely that he would.

But it was time for a change of subject, which was why -during his almost-too-precise buttering job- he asked: "Have you been here a while?" Clearly it had happened sometime after he'd last gone walkabout, but as he wasn't 100% sure how long he'd been gone, there was a lot of space to work from.

Quick to latch on to the subject change, Gerard nodded.

"A little over a year now? I do go back to Morden on occasion though to tend to business, but - I've got my own room here and it feels more like home than the bookstore ever did," he explained, bringing the tea to the table along with the milk and sugar to be added to the tea as needed. For his part, he added a little bit of sugar but that was all. Milk generally only went in his black tea when he was upset. "I take art classes at the university too."

Cal added enough milk to cloud the liquid over, and not much more than that, and did actually take a sip before adding sugar, definitely more than Gerard had used, but not as much as the resident Cal probably would have.

His head tilted a little at the answer as he did so, calculating, "That sounds like..." A little head shake, "I don't know, but not too long after the last time I wandered off. Time's weird in Tumulus, but I try not to stay there any longer than I have to." Especially when combining that with not knowing fur sure what dimension he was going to pop out into when he left the place.

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