Callista stopped with her hand hovering inches from the door, as if she could feel the heat of Elian's distress through the wood. Caleb stood beside her, still and composed, his head slightly inclined as he listened for any movement within.
There was nothing.
Not a footstep, not a breath, not the faint rustle of fabric. Only the distant sounds of House Abrantes shifting into full alert beyond the corridor, and the low murmur of personnel asking questions they were afraid to have answered.
Callista tried the latch anyway, gently at first, then with a firmer twist that betrayed the tremor in her fingers.
It did not give. A lock clicked softly beneath her touch, final and deliberate, and the sound struck her harder than shouting ever could.
"He locked it," she whispered, voice tightening.
Caleb did not reach for the handle. He did not test it as if insistence would change the result. He simply watched Callista's face and kept his own voice low enough that it would not carry through the door.
"Yes, my lady," he said. "He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't wany anyone touching him, he pushed away medical personnel."
Callista's mouth parted as if she might argue, as if she might demand the door be opened, as if she might call for a guard to break it. The thought flickered across her expression and then died under the weight of what it would mean to do that to her son.
Her shoulders sagged. "He is....." she said, and the words sounded like an accusation against the universe. "He is hurt. He is alone. He's lost some of his closest friends."
Caleb nodded once, slow and careful. "He is alone because it is the only thing he can control right now," he replied. "If we take that from him, I don't want to know what will happen."
Callista pressed her palm flat against the door, not pushing, only resting it there as if she could transmit comfort through wood and metal. Her breath hitched, and she forced it steady again.
"Elian," she said quietly, not calling, not pleading, just speaking as if he were close enough to hear her without effort. "We are here. I am here. You do not have to open the door, but you are not alone." The hallway held its breath with her. Still, there was no answer. Caleb shifted just enough to place himself slightly between Callista and the door, not blocking her, but grounding her. He kept his tone practical, because practicality was sometimes the only rope people could hold onto.
"We cannot go in," he said. "So we do what we can from here."
Callista swallowed hard. "What does that look like, Caleb?"
"It looks like we stop trying to force a moment that probably won't happen tonight." he answered. "It looks like we set a medkit and water at the door, and we tell him it is there if he wants it. It looks like we keep Cassian, Sibylla and Lord Alistair informed."
Callista's eyes stayed on the door as if she could will it open through sheer love. "And if he passes out," she whispered. "What if......" Her lower lip trembled lightly. "I've never seen him like this....ever."
