callum marshall ⚔️ cullen rutherford (fereldan) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2017-10-16 10:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !phone, r * jaclyn, r * laura, r: callum marshall, r: elle marshall |
log;; 2017 10 15; midday
WHO: Cal Marshall, Elle Marshall
WHEN: October 15, 2017, midday
WHERE: Rehab facility in DC ←→ Elle's apartment in Dunhaven
SUMMARY: Cal calls to surprise Elle with good news. He's coming home!
WARNINGS: Just a sprinkling of no-no words.
Callum often had to be reminded to let loose a little -- he hadn't achieved General by thirty-six by clowning around -- but with his brothers and sister he knew how to play the occasional joke. He made sure to call Elle from a landline number she wouldn't recognize and when she answered the phone he affected his best, albeit over-the-top, Middle Eastern accent. “Yes, hello, I am looking to be speaking to a… Helena Mersha? Is this Helena Mersha?” If Elle had been anyone else, she might have ignored a strange number. Her game plan might have been: let it ring, see if they left a message, call them back if it was important. Elle was used to jumping at the first sound of a phone ringing, though, never knowing what it might be or who might be on the other end. Good or bad, she’d gotten trained to pick up. “What?” Elle frowned. The accent didn’t sound real, but… “May I ask who’s calling?” “This--This is the Helena Mersha? Yes? Helena Mersha?” The caller was doing his very best to stifle laughter and it was painfully obvious. “Helena Mersha, this is Akbar O--Shit!” The accent was abandoned in that last word and a thudding sound was heard over the phone. Distantly, Cal's familiar voice was heard: “Elle, hold on, I tripped and dropped the phone! I just--Oh, thank you, Jenny.” The nurse handed him the phone with a smile and his voice was near again. “Akbar had to go,” he told Elle nonchalantly. “Hi.” “Goddamn it, Cal,” Elle muttered under her breath, but she was grinning ear-to-ear. She’d figured it out pretty quickly after he’d failed to answer her question, and in retrospect, she should have expected it. He always did something like this. “You’re a jerk, you know that? Tell Jenny I say hi.” “My sis says hi, Jenny!” he called to the nurse as she headed out of the room. Jenny waved in response. “She waved,” Callum informed Elle. “So I have news. Think you can handle it?” Last time he had ‘news’ … Elle hesitated. “Should I sit down?” Despite himself, he had to grin. He had phrased it that way on purpose, though it was cruel since the last big news had been his accident and amputation. “Maybe,” he answered, drawing it out a moment longer before finally asking, “So do you still have that second bedroom free? Because I'm gonna need a place to live if I'm coming home and I don't wanna be almost forty and living with my parents again.” Elle didn't sit -- but she did feel her heart start to pound faster. He wouldn't have joked if it was bad, though. Elle knew that. She just couldn't help but worry about her big brother. “Holy shit,” she exclaimed. “Yes! Hell yes, it’s all yours.” In the moment, it didn't occur to her to consider any downsides; she just wanted to help if she could. Cal laughed at the enthusiastic answer. “Are you sure? You didn't even stop to think about it. I'm kind of an asshole, but I guess I take up a little less room since being demoted to Sergeant Stumpy.” Elle scoffed. “What’s there to think about?” She chose to ignore Cal’s self-deprecating joke. There were times she was right there with him on that, going back and forth, but today was not that day. “You are kind of an asshole, though. But then again, so am I. When are they letting you go?” “When can you come get my shit?” “Um,” Elle paused to grab her schedule to see who was supposed to be at the bar that day and if they could manage without her, “couple hours?” “Oh.” He hadn’t expected that quick a response, but then he grinned broadly. “I guess I should pack, huh?” “No, I mean -- well, if you can get your shit together in a few hours, sure. But I could come tomorrow if that’s better.” It might be better for her, too, she thought. “Actually, can we do that? I should clean. Get the bedroom together. You know, prove to you I’m a real grown-up and all that.” Cal laughed, leaning on the counter. He didn’t have much in his room; he’d never owned much that wasn’t his old stuff at his parents’ house. He’d usually lived there between tours, too, so anything here was a couple of pictures, a laptop, some clothes… It wouldn’t take long, but he knew springing this on his sister wasn’t completely fair. “I’ll never believe you’re a grown up, Ellie. But tomorrow works. That’ll give me time to get the paperwork filled out.” Elle groaned at his use of her nickname. “Well, you better get used to it fast. I drink, I pay my bills, I hang out with boys. I’m grown up whether or not you like it. What time do you want me to be there?” Elle felt a little breathless asking that. Her brother was coming home. Should she call their parents, too? How pissed off were they going to be that he wanted to live with her? Would they end up hating each other, living together again? “I gotta be back at the bar by 5, but I can take the rest of the day.” “I’ll be ready in the morning,” he promised, trying to shake away the nagging desire to ask about those boys she claimed to hang out with. Elle had always been a tomboy, but he knew that she’d thrown that in to get to his protective side. “Whenever you can get up here. I’m ready to get out of the city. I need some good ole country livin’. I’m just mad at myself that I missed the Harvest Festival.” “Eh, they do that every year.” The festival was fun, and one of the things she’d missed most about Dunhaven when she’d lived elsewhere, but she was downplaying it for Cal’s benefit. “You didn’t miss clean up day. Now that’s a fun time,” she said, completely deadpan. “I’ll call you when I’m leaving in the morning?” He appreciated her attempt at soothing him in regards to the festival, though it certainly wasn’t the end of the world anyway. The town had plenty of annual events to help him remember that it was a nice thing to be back home, even if he had lost the career he’d been driven toward for almost thirty years as well as nearly half his leg… He shook away the dark thoughts, not wanting them to creep through the line into Elle’s awareness. “Sounds good. Love ya, Elle.” Even a year ago, he would often forego any sentiment, in favor of a more masculine detachment. But now, he’d lost too much. Rarely did a conversation or a visit go by the didn’t end with an expression of his genuine familial affection. Elle smiled. It had always been good to hear his voice, but it took on a special meaning now that they’d come so close to losing him. She treasured every little moment with him, more than she ever had. It was sappy as hell, but this was the one time Elle didn’t really care at all. “Love ya too, Callie.” |