Shattered Ice

Getting him to bed

*Virginia*

As I pull the keys from the ignition, the harsh reality of the situation truly sinks in. Caleb is a mess, and I've got a sinking feeling that this night isn’t over yet. I glance at him, still sitting there like a lost puppy, and I can’t help but sigh. “Can you get to bed on your own, or do I need to carry you like a toddler?”

“I can handle it,” he insists. “I do not need anyone… ever” The way he sways slightly in his seat tells a different story. I watch him fumble with the seatbelt, his fingers moving like they’ve got a mind of their own. When he finally gets it off, he looks up at me with a sheepish smile that’s just a tad too goofy for my liking.

“Alright, superman, let’s see you in action.” I swing my door open and step out, but by the time I reach his side of the car, he’s already standing, swaying like a tree in a gentle breeze. I grab his arm before he can topple over. “Whoa there, Captain Graceful. Let’s take it slow.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, but as he takes a step, his foot catches on the curb, and he stumbles sideways. I practically drag him toward the door, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Right, clearly you’re fine. Just a little bit tipsy, huh?”

“Okay, maybe a little,” he concedes, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson as he leans heavily against me. “But I swear I’m not that drunk.”

“Sure, and I’m the Queen of England,” I retort, pushing the door open and guiding him inside.

Butterscotch comes jumping, and Caleb pulls free, falling to his knees to hug his dog. He is mumbling about how he missed him and how he is his best friend. Butterscotch is happily licking his face.

“You are the only one who ever loved me,” he says, his face buried in the dog's thick fur, and I can’t help but wonder how his life have been if he truly feels like that.

“Let’s get you to bed before you decide to tango with the furniture.” I say, grabbing his arm to help him back on his legs.

With a lot of effort and a little creative maneuvering, I manage to get him to his bedroom. I help him sit on the edge of the bed, and he looks up at me with big, vulnerable eyes. “Do you think I’m going to be okay?”

“Honestly? You’re going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning, and you might face some serious consequences for tonight’s escapades. But I’m more worried about you emotionally right now.” I kneel down in front of him, meeting his gaze. “You need to understand how serious this is.”

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I messed up.”

“Damn right you did,” I say, rolling my eyes, but I can’t help but soften a bit. “Let’s get you into bed before you start crying over your own poor decisions.”

“I can do it myself,” he insists, but as he stands up, he promptly wobbles and lands back on the bed with a thud.

“Sure you can, champ,” I say, chuckling as I help him back to his feet. “Let’s just make this easier for both of us.”

With a surprising amount of effort, I help him undress. I mean, I’ve seen him in various states of undress before, but this feels different. I can’t help but notice the way his shirt clings to his torso, the way his skin glimmers under the dim light. It’s hard to reconcile the man standing before me… vulnerable, a little broken… with the confident Caleb I know.

“Why does this feel so awkward?” he mumbles, his eyes flickering down as I help him out of his shirt.

“Because you’re not drunk enough to find this amusing, and I’m not drunk enough to find it amusing either,” I quip, trying to lighten the mood as I toss his shirt onto the floor. “Now, let’s get those pants off before I start charging you for this little service.”

“Wow, Ginnie, I didn’t know you had a side gig as a… whatever this is,” he smirks, trying to throw in a little charm despite the situation.

“Well, consider it a freebie this time,” I fire back, mock-seriously. “But next time, I’m definitely charging you for this kind of personal assistance.”

Once he’s in his boxers, I help him slip under the covers, tucking him in like he’s a kid afraid of the dark. He looks up at me, his expression shifting from sheepish to something more sincere. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Don't thank me yet,” I say, crossing my arms and trying to keep my voice firm. “You still have to face the music tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” he replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m really sorry, Ginnie. I didn’t mean to put you through this.”

I can feel my heart softening, despite my frustration. “I know you didn’t, but you need to take responsibility for your actions. You can’t keep doing this.”

“I promise I’ll do better,” he says earnestly, his eyes searching mine. “I can be a good boy… I promise.”

I nod, that’s kind of a weird thing to say, but I mean he is drunk and tired. “Good. Because I’m not going to keep bailing you out of trouble if you don’t start thinking about the consequences.”

“Deal,” he murmurs, his eyes growing heavy. “Now, can you stay for a minute? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes but smiling despite myself. “But only for a minute. I have a life too, you know.”

He chuckles softly, the sound laced with exhaustion. “Yeah, but I’ve become your favorite distraction.”

“Only when you’re not getting arrested,” I shoot back, shaking my head, but I can’t help feeling a little warmth at the thought. “Get some sleep, Caleb. Tomorrow is gonna be a rough day.”

As he drifts off, I sit by his side, watching him breathe, the weight of the night settling around us. The world outside fades away, and for just a moment, I let myself believe that everything will be okay.