Liam and Caleb sat across from one another in their kitchen. Their table matched the rest of the decor, a nice solid wood with high grain, swirling around in bold patterns, which gave it character. Caleb's back was to the main part of the kitchen, where sat a nice, modern, stainless steel sink. The counter was a lovely bespeckled dark granite, which accented the black refrigerator and microwave nicely. The cabinets were custom, made from the same solid wood as the table. Liam and Caleb enjoyed going antiquing from time to time, and had snagged some nice, ornate, wrought iron handles which matched the rustic feel of the place nicely. 

Caleb found that he could no longer sit facing the sink anymore. Sitting next to it was a thick wooden cutting board. Any time he sat opposite, he could see in his mind's eye Liam standing there, preparing a meal. Specifically, he loved the way Liam would look over his shoulder as they talked, smiling. It made Caleb's heart ache, so he just stopped facing that way. 

As such, Liam sat facing the sink. Periodically he scratched inside his ears. Frowning, he flicked his fingertips. 

"ARGH! I got a bunch of spices in my ears."

Caleb couldn't help but chuckle. "Didn't that happen last time?" 

"I suppose," Liam said, scratching and flicking some more which caused Caleb to make a face. "I guess I just didn't notice?" 

"I'm sorry."

Liam stopped, looking surprised. Cocking his head slightly, he smiled sweetly. "Don't be. Not your fault."

"How's all that work, anyway?" 

Liam blinked. "How's what work?" 

Caleb gestured up and down. "Your body. You don't have to breathe, you just said you're having itching sensations but didn't previously."

Liam merely laughed. "I don't know! You're the necromancer!" 

Caleb rose a finger, grinning. "Not a very good one." 

"That's a matter of perspective, I think." 

"How so?" 

"Well," Liam said, leaning back and getting comfortable in the high back, suede black chair, "Don't you think if just anyone could do this there'd be a lot more zombies roaming around? No one wants to say goodbye to a loved one." 

Caleb shuddered but forced a laugh. "You're not a zombie, Liam." 

Liam pursed his lips into a thin line, drumming his fingers on the table. "Then what am I?" 

Silence befell them. Caleb swallowed. Luckily only a few moments of the awkward silence waffed between them before Caleb's stomach growled loud enough for them both to hear. The tension was broken, Liam laughing and Caleb grinning in chagrin. 

"When was the last time you ate?" 

"Er, I d'no," Caleb replied, blushing slightly at his honesty. 

Smiling, Liam got to his feet. "Please tell me besides the spices we used in the bathtub you've gone shopping?" 

Caleb watched Liam walk by, a slight panic starting. "Y-yeah." 

Liam opened the fridge and stooped over, then frowned. "Hmm. Not much to work with here, but I could whip something up for you."

As Liam began pulling out ingredients, Caleb leaped to his feet. "What? No, it's fine, you don't have to."

Putting a head of a lettuce and some tomatoes on the counter, Liam looked at him perplexed. "But I want to." 

"Really," Caleb urged, feeling himself turn red as emotions slammed into him like a tidal wave, "I don't want to bother you."

Liam laughed, now pulling out lunch meat. "Babe, it's no bother. I was just going to throw together a sandwich."

Caleb froze, not knowing what to do. When he didn't move, Liam moved swiftly to Caleb, placing a concerned hand on his cheek. "Hey, are you alright?" 

"Yeah, I just—" 

Caleb was at risk of crying, so abruptly he turned away and headed to the bedroom. "I just, um, I'm tired. Call me when you're done please, okay?" 

The tone in Liam's voice showed his confusion. "Oh…alright." 

Caleb went into the bedroom and quietly shut the door. Moving to the bed he plopped down with a heavy sigh. He was happy when his mind went utterly blank. Caleb sat like this for a while, holding his head in his hands. 

After an extended amount of time, Caleb blinked, coming back from his haze. He lifted his head. It should not take someone that long to prepare a sandwich, especially for someone who had gone to culinary school like Liam had. 

"Liam?" 

No answer. 

"Liam?" Caleb tried again, getting to his feet. 

When there still wasn't an answer, Caleb felt a stab of panic. Throwing open the door, he strode out into the kitchen. To his surprise, Liam was still standing at the counter, unmoving, his back to Caleb. 

"Liam?" Caleb whispered. 

Slowly, Caleb crossed the kitchen. A sense of dread washed over him as he continued to stare at the back of Liam. Once more he said his name, at a regular volume, but still nothing. 

Caleb stepped beside Liam. The sandwich was only partially completed. Fearfully, Caleb lifted his eyes to look at Liam's face. However, his eyes never got that far. 

"LIAM!" 

Liam blinked. He had cut his arm with the large blade he was using to cut the lettuce, blood flowing freely from the cut. Caleb grabbed the hand towel and tried to press it to the wound. However, Liam yanked his arm away. 

"Liam, what the fuck—hold still! " 

"No," Liam said, not letting Caleb cover his arm. He had a strange, far away expression to his eyes, trance like. He pointed at the counter. "Look."

"Liam—"

Liam took the towel and dropped it on the ground. He then held his bleeding arm right under Caleb's face. Caleb, feeling queasy, watched as the skin began to repair itself, just like it had when he had witnessed him being pulled into a corporeal form. As he did, Liam pointed to the counter with his other hand. Apprehensively, Caleb shifted his eyes to the reflective countertop. 

Caleb gasped. The blood was congealing quickly, and soaking into the granite itself. Once it was gone, Liam ran his hand over where the puddle had been, and then showed Caleb his palm; it was dry, like blood had never been there. 

"What the fuck was that for?" Caleb snapped at him, feeling queasy. 

Liam's expression was still blank and far away. "I d'no," he replied, looking between the kitchen knife and his arm. "I just—I just had a sudden urge to do that—" 

Caleb snatched the clean knife away, throwing it angrily into the sink. He couldn't stop himself from shaking. "What the actual fuck, Liam?" 

Liam looked at him, blinking profusely, like it was hard for him to be in the present. Caleb could almost see within Liam's eyes him shifting back and forth between thoughts and reality. "I just—I don't know—I just—" 

In frustration Caleb looked down at the counter, scowling. Then everything felt like it shifted sideways. Caleb gasped, clutching onto the countertop so he didn't fall. The blood seemed to pool back, or perhaps the countertop began melting. Regardless, Caleb saw a ripple within the material, as though it were a liquid and someone had just dropped a rock into it. Once the circles stopped rippling outward, he could see an image. 

Screwing his face up, Caleb leaned in closer. Just as in the bathtub, he could see Liam. This was different though, clearer, like a picture. No, like a film, because it was moving. Leaning further still, Caleb squinted his eyes. 

In the picture, Liam stood where Caleb was at the counter. He was sort of hunched over. Caleb wanted to see what he was doing. Feeling like he was lurched sideways again, Caleb's perspective suddenly shifted, and he was now looking at Liam head on (which normally wouldn't be physically possible, because he would be in the wall then). 

Liam was writing on a piece of paper. It was a frantic sort of thing, scribbling. Caleb, in the present, leaned in even farther until his nose almost touched the counter, trying to see what was on the page. Just when he thought he would be able to, Liam tossed down the pen and began to fold up the paper. Frustrated, Caleb tried to lean in—

Caleb was physically yanked backwards. Shouting in surprise, his world spun. He was ripped out of image in the counter, simultaneously seeing reality around him. The confusion caused him to stumble, spin around, and fall to the floor. 

Liam was kneeling next to him immediately. Frantically he gripped Caleb's shoulder. 

"Don't do that!" 

Bewildered, Caleb blinked up at Liam. "Huh?" 

"You almost went in there!" 

Caleb blinked. "I—what?" 

"What was I doing, Caleb?" Liam whimpered then, his face crumpling. 

Caleb was still trying to get his bearings. "What—when? What do you mean I almost went in? What are you—Liam!" 

Liam had grabbed onto Caleb tightly. Without thought, Caleb wrapped his arms protectively around him. "Hey—hey, you're shaking—" 

"I feel so scared Caleb," Laim said, sounding equally terrified and bewildered. "I don't—I think I was feeling what we were seeing there. I feel so, so scared Caleb, and so sad."

"Hey...You're safe now…" 

Liam started to cry softly, kneading Caleb's shoulder as he clung to him. "Am I? I don't feel safe at all. I'm so scared Caleb. I'm so scared. I hate this. Please make it stop. I'm so scared." 

At an utter loss for what to do, or what even had just taken place, Caleb did the only thing that made sense; comfort Liam.