Chapter Text
He should have known.
Callum shouldn’t’ve been so naïve to think that he could actually do this, spend so many months without Ben. Of course, back when the decision was made, it was maybe a couple weeks, a month at most. They’re several months down the line now, though, and life as they used to know it is gone. He doesn’t think he’s ever spent this much time in a house by himself. He’d been straight out of home into the army, then to the Carters, and then living a false life with Whitney. Then Stuart, with Ben in and out of the house as a constant.
Now, though, he’s alone, and it’s getting to him.
-
“How you been doing, then?” Lola asks. It’s Friday, so they’re on call. Ben’s apparently just gone to pick up some food, so it’s just Lola on the screen, with the sound of one of Lexi’s movies in the background. He’s not caught sight of Phil yet, which he’s glad of.
“Yeah, yeah, not too bad,” he says plastering a smile on his face. “Keeping busy. How’s Lexi doing?”
He’s deflecting. He knows that, Lola probably knows it too. Either way, she doesn’t say anything which he’s grateful for.
“Keeping us all busy with her antics, obviously,” Lola says with a grin. Callum ignores the way jealousy burns through him momentarily at the fact that they’re all together, and he’s alone.
It was your idea , he reminds himself. Stop being selfish.
“Teaching us all bits of sign, too,” Lola says, and Callum can’t help but smile. “Spending lots of time with her dad.”
“Yeah?” Callum replies. “How’s he doing?”
Lola sighs, but it’s not all too exasperated, in the way it used to be when she talked about Ben. “Getting there, I think. He’s starting to sit down with Lexi and learn some stuff, which is good. Misses you like crazy though.”
“He said that?” Callum asks, and he can feel the way his ears start to burn red from embarrassment.
“Not explicitly, but I can tell,” Lola says. “Female intuition.”
Callum laughs and it is a genuine laugh. The feeling of being missed, being wanted- it’s a feeling he’s been chasing his whole life. The fact that he’s found it, in Ben-
Not if he knew what you were doing.
The thought shoots through him unexpectedly. It sends a shiver down his spine, makes his hands shake, his heart ache for reassurance. He feels sick with himself, guilt wracking it’s way through his mind and body for a minute, burning hot and bright. The thought’s right, though- Ben would hate him if he knew what Callum had really done. He’d be disgusted .
Callum’s disgusted with himself. He’s going to throw them away, as soon as he’s off the call.
“Callum?” Lola’s voice tears him out of his own mind. “You alright?”
“What?” he says, before he notices the look of concern on her face. He shifts his hands just out of the frame where they’re starting to shake, and smiles. “Sorry, just- thinking.”
Lola’s face shifts quickly from one of concern to one of playful disgust.
“Oh my God, you two have been- you were thinking about him weren’t you?” Lola laughs. “I don’t need to know what the two of you get up to, thank you Callum.”
He laughs in response. It’s fake, but it convinces her. Before anything else can be said, she’s turning away from the camera to the direction of the front door.
Callum takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. The last thing he needs to do is worry Ben.
He opens his eyes again, and Ben shifts into the frame. Callum plasters on a smile.
He’s fine.
-
Callum thinks he’s going to go insane, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. He should sleep, he knows he should. Last time he looked at the clock it was at least 1am, and he’s got a shift at the station tomorrow – well, today. Yet- every time he tries to close his eyes there are images behind his eyelids, things he desperately wants to forget. He just wants to sleep , fucking hell. It shouldn’t be this hard.
He closes his eyes and reaches across to the other side of the bed, as if by some miracle it won’t be freezing cold, just like it has been for months now. Callum wouldn’t exactly think of himself as a clingy boyfriend most of the time, but right now he can’t get the phrase ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ out of his head. It’s driving him crazy, not being able to properly be with Ben. Sure, there’s Zoom calls and socially distanced meetings outside the Mitchell house, but none of it’s the same as curling into Ben at night, finding the other man’s warmth next to him. There’s nothing that’s as comforting as waking up to find the man you love next to you, sound asleep and safe, and Callum misses him like crazy. He’s told Ben all of this, to some extent- not the entirety of what Ben’s absence has done to him, but the fact that he’s missed, and it always makes Ben smile that soft smile he loves, and remind him that Callum is missed too, and not just by Ben, but by Lola and Lexi too.
Now, though, when it’s gone midnight and he hasn’t slept in too long, at a time in the morning when it’s not exactly socially acceptable to call Ben, the cold mattress beside him makes him want to cry. He just- needs someone to remind him that he’s not nearly as alone as he feels, remind him that he’s safe. At that thought, a tear actually does roll down his cheek. He hasn’t mentioned it to Ben yet – not that he’s planning to, the other man has enough on his mind right now – but he’s been having more and more nightmares. He thinks it’s probably a reaction to stress, or change, or the fact that the man he loves isn’t there to hold him anymore, but he’s gone from having one every so often, maybe every fortnight, to having them most nights. He hates it, but he’s scared to go to sleep now. He won’t tell Ben because what kind of grown man is scared to sleep alone at night? It’s ridiculous, and he’s so fucking embarrassed, so he suffers through it alone.
It’s better that way, because that way he’s not making anyone else worry about him. Even though the only thing he wants right now is to not be alone, besides maybe some sleep-
But there’s no one here. Not even Stuart and Rainie snoring in the next room to remind him that he doesn’t have to feel lonely. He regrets every decision he made before lockdown, every single time that he’d insisted to both Stuart and Ben that he’ be fine on his own, that he loved having a quiet house, all to himself. The whole flat feels suffocating now, filled with this tense silence that makes him want to scream. What he wouldn’t give right now to hear Lexi singing from the living room, or even baby Abi crying her little lungs out, anything to distract from his own mind that’s thriving in the solitude.
There is a solution, though. A solution that’s been stuffed into his wallet for a few days now, one that he’d found at the station. It’s terrible, awful of him, and the guilt burns through him like fire every time he thinks about it-
His eyes feel like they’re burning. That could well be because he’s probably not slept a full night since last week, but it’s more than likely that it’s because he’s been stood in the same spot staring for what feels like hours now. He’s just brought someone in on a suspected thievery charge. They’re in a holding cell now, and anything else is above his paygrade. He’d just been told to take their stuff to the lockup, put it away and drop the key to the locker back at reception. Except-
Things are never that simple.
Just as he’d been putting the backpack into one of the lockers, one of the zips fell open and emptied the contents of one of the pockets onto the floor.
“Oh, for-“ he’d sighed, because he’s probably at that point where every little minor inconvenience in his life is like climbing a mountain, and a part of him just wanted to sit on the floor and cry. He’s just so fucking tired , he just needs some fucking sleep-
He’d bent down regardless to pick the stuff up from the floor and slip it back into the bag when the last thing caught his eye, and he’s not moved since. It’s a little silver blister packet with twelve neatly lined up circles on it. Something in him recognises the name, although he can’t quite recall where from. Maybe it’s from that episode of Holby City he’d been watching last night. Either way, he knows exactly what they are- sleeping pills. Usually prescribed, but, like most things, sold in much worse places than pharmacies. He should just put them back in the backpack really, or better yet, report them to his boss in case the guy in the cell knows about more than just sleeping pills. It’s stupid, but he can’t quite bring himself to let go of them. He looks over his shoulder, but the corridor is quiet.
He takes them in his hand, throws everything else in the locker, and turns back to the cell.
-
The man inside is tall, a little taller than Callum when he’s stood up straight (which is impressive, because he’s not exactly short himself) and lean, with a clean shaven head and dark stubble on his chin. He’s sitting with a familiar confidence, like being sat in the cell doesn’t faze him at all, like he’s sure he’ll be back out in time for his dinner. It reminds him a little of Ben, but how Ben used to be, back before they got together. He shakes that thought aside, though, because if he’s going to talk to this guy he can’t be thinking about Ben while he does it.
The man, Eric, Callum thinks his name was, looks up when Callum opens the cell door and closes it behind him, then checks the corridor again. Empty.
“You guys had your fun yet? Because I can guarantee you won’t find anything, mate, and I’d quite like to get home for the footie,” Eric smirks, then his eye must catch on the packet in Callum’s hand. “Now, now, where did you get that?”
“Your bag. Want to explain?” Callum says with confidence he doesn’t have.
“Ain’t it an invasion of privacy to go through someone’s belongings, Officer?” he says, and the smug tone of his voice makes Callum shudder.
“What are they?” Callum says.
“Just a little something to help someone sleep, all legal I promise,” Eric replies. “Why, you interested?”
Callum flinches- surely he’s not that obvious? The man grins anyway, like he can see right through him.
“I tell you what,” Eric says. “Why don’t you keep them? No strings attached.”
“I ain’t an addict,” Callum says, and it’s defensive, all too defensive. Anyone could probably see through him, clear as fucking day.
“I never said you were, officer. It’s just a…” he pauses for a second. “Generous offer, man to man.”
Callum doesn’t say anything. He’s not exactly going to admit to a criminal that he’s tempted. He sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“I don’t need help from you,” Callum says, and he hopes that his voice doesn’t betray him. By the way that Eric’s face builds into even more of a smirk, he’s failed miserably. “Someone will be along to interview you soon. I’ll dispose of these for you.”
“Sure you will,” Eric mutters. It burns anger mixed with embarrassment through his veins, but he doesn’t turn back. He closes the cell again, and walks back down the corridor to where his stuff is so he can just be done with the day.
But, he thinks, it could be worse. It’s only sleeping pills.
He takes the blister pack out of his wallet. There’s four left from a pack of twelve.
He hesitates, just for a minute. Fuck it. He pops two out and puts them in his mouth, before shoving the packet back in his wallet and his wallet back on the nightstand. He falls back onto his pillow, arms blocking out the light that’s already starting to seep into the room.
Just this once. But then again he said that before; just this once, twice, three times-
He’ll throw them away tomorrow.
He will.
Delightful blackness consumes his vision.