Caleb was hesitating. It was a concept he was relatively unfamiliar with for a number of reasons, and he didn't like it. As the leader of the rebellion, he'd barely had enough time to make all the decisions that needed to be made, let alone second guess or think them over. He was used to action. He believed in gut instincts and while his certainly wasn't perfect, he'd had a good track record over the years. Hesitating, mulling things over, stalling... That wasn't his thing.

And he never hesitated around his dad. As far as he could remember, he and Julian had been unlike most parents and their children. Though Julian was no pushover, he'd always treated Caleb as an equal. Caleb had learned from an early age that he had an opinion, and his opinion mattered. Sometimes (often) his was overruled by his father's, but there was always a discussion as to why, a rationale that Caleb could follow.

As he got older, his father became his friend. The Guardians had stared at him blankly one day when he told them he couldn't come to the Silver Dragon because he was "hanging out" with his dad.

"Are you grounded?" Will had asked. Caleb said no, they were going hiking.

"Why?" was the resounding response to that, and Caleb wasn't sure how to explain to them that he simply liked spending time with his father. It wasn't something he had to think about; it was just how things had always been. With no one else in their lives, they'd always been very close.

But there could have been someone else, Caleb thought bitterly, looking again at his father's door. And he knew it.

He'd been avoiding his father for a week, a surprisingly easy feat given that they lived in the same wing in the palace. Caleb rolled his eyes. The fact that he'd been able to avoid Julian meant that Julian was letting him do so. Because he got Caleb. He knew that Caleb would talk to him when he was ready.

Caleb wasn't ready now, but this whole drama had played out long enough. He knocked once on his father's door, heard a short reply, and stepped inside.

His dad was seated in a chair by the fireplace, reading. He was always reading. One of Caleb's earliest memories was sitting with his father as Julian read him a story about dragons and princesses and knights riding to the rescue. My life makes a lot of sense, he thought wryly. There were stories of pirates and kings and monsters in the woods. Caleb had lived for those stories.

There'd been other stories too. True ones, stories of Meridian's history, sometimes dull, usually not. Even after Phobos came to power and all attempts at formal education faltered for most of Meridian's children, Julian had taught Caleb his history. He could list the country's greatest heroes, give the dates of the worst famines. He knew the lineages of Meridian's royal families and those of the rulers across the seas, in places Julian had always promised Caleb they would go one day. We actually could go now.

Julian shut his book as Caleb entered and watched him warily. Caleb closed the door. Say something, he reprimanded himself. When had speaking to his father ever been difficult?

"Hey," he said quietly, not meeting Julian's eyes.

"Hi."

Good talk. Caleb cleared his throat, running a hand uncomfortably through his hair. "I saw a griffin in the woods the other day," he said, the words spilling from his mouth before he had time to process what he was saying.

Julian smiled. "Yeah?"

"It was huge," Caleb said, nodding. "I got about three feet from it before it flew off."

"I've never seen one this far north."

"Me either." He took a deep breath. "I really wanted to tell you that," he admitted.

"I'm glad you did. They tend to return to the same places so we'll have to see if we can find it again." Julian paused, then, "We're speaking again?"

Caleb didn't reply immediately. This week had been the longest they'd ever gone without speaking (ignoring the year and a half Julian was a prisoner in the Underground Mines.) Between avoiding Julian and the Guardians, Caleb had had a very quiet week.

He'd needed it. The discovery that his mother was not only alive but was Nerissa had uprooted him. It had turned his life upside down in a way that only one other event had before, and he'd needed time to process it. Alone.

He hadn't succeeded yet. How could he? A fact of his life had been that his mother was dead. In Phobos' Meridian, where so much was uncertain, death was concrete. And his mother was dead.

But his mother was alive.

Nerissa was the enemy. Nerissa was his mother. His father hadn't known that, but he'd known more than he'd said.

And that's what it all came down to, wasn't it? Nothing about Nerissa. She didn't matter. She'd left them and betrayed them and what she'd done to the world disqualified her from any maternal affection the title might have given her. What mattered, Caleb realized as he stood frozen, staring at the one parent he'd ever known, was that his father had lied. And if one fact of his life had been "My mother is dead," another was "I can trust my father."

Nerissa's revelation had destroyed both those facts at once.

"You told me she was dead," Caleb said, surprising himself with how calm he sounded.

Julian closed his eyes. "Yes, I did."

"You knew she wasn't."

"Caleb-"

"I mourned someone who wasn't dead," Caleb interrupted, and all semblance of calm left him. His hands were shaking, his breath felt ragged, and he couldn't keep the desperation from his voice. "I spent years wondering and not asking you what had happened. I made up stories about her and I missed her and you knew that she was there the whole time!"

Julian stood up but didn't take a step toward him. "I know that."

"Did you know that I didn't always believe you?" Caleb shot back. "Did you know that I used to wonder if you found me somewhere and didn't want to tell me that you weren't my father?"

The silence that followed answered his question.

"How could you lie to me?" He sounded like a child, and he felt like one. He hadn't felt this young since before the rebellion, where what childhood he'd had died on the battlefield.

Julian moved away from the fireplace, but the distance between them remained. "I'm sorry that you ever thought that," Julian said now, his words strong and deliberate. Caleb's announcement had hurt him, but Caleb didn't feel sorry. He felt no need to apologize. "I didn't know what to do, Caleb. You were young. You assumed she was dead and I never corrected you because that was the easiest answer. If I'd told you she left, you would have been hurt. You might have looked for her. And I couldn't tell you the truth."

"Why not?"

Julian sighed and rubbed his eyes. His dad looked old, Caleb thought, even older than he had when they'd found him as a prisoner in the mines. "Would you believe it was to keep you safe?" Caleb scoffed. "It was. If someone had known that the Mage had a son, you would have been a target. Constantly. And those would have been enemies I couldn't protect you from." He rubbed his eyes again.

I couldn't protect you... The words rang in Caleb's ears, just as they had the last time his father had said them. Three years later, he could remember every word of that argument.

Caleb knew something was wrong the second he walked in the door. It was unlocked. The door was never unlocked. "Dad?" He called out softly. Please let him be here, Caleb thought, panic rising within him. Please don't let this... Don't be... He couldn't even finish the thought. If his actions had harmed his father, he didn't know what he'd do.

His bedroom door was open, and Caleb approached cautiously. His hand slid to the dagger at his waist, hidden beneath the trench coat that was still slightly too big for him. If his father wasn't in the house, Caleb had already given himself away, and he had to be prepared.

He rounded the corner quickly, ready to strike, but saw only his father, leaning beside the window. Caleb breathed a sigh of relief and released his hold on the dagger. "The door was unlocked," he said.

Julian glanced his way and Caleb involuntarily stepped back. He'd been prepared for an assassin in his room, not for the angry eyes of his father. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Julian's voice was dangerously quiet, and Caleb retreated further.

"Wh-what are you-"

"How long have you been running an underground rebellion behind my back?"

Julian had turned fully to face him and Caleb had to look away. He didn't know how to reply, but years later he would reflect that, "How did you find out?" was probably the worst thing he could have said.

"That's your concern right now?" Julian slammed his fist onto the windowsill, making Caleb start. "That's what you want to know?" Caleb shook his head, but it was too late. "They were talking about it at the market, Caleb. About the boy hero of Meridian. No one said your name, don't worry about that. But the more I listened to the stories they were telling, I thought, 'That sounds just stupid enough for my kid to do.'"

Then Caleb saw it – the damning evidence, clutched in his father's hand. His map of the underground, the city and its exits. "You didn't hide this very well," Julian said bitterly.

Caleb had known his father wouldn't approve of his starting a rebellion. He'd lock him in his room and escort him everywhere he needed to be for the rest of his life if that was what it took to keep Caleb out of trouble.

So Caleb hadn't told him. He'd snuck out of his house for months, told his father he'd gotten a job at the shipping yard, and become the most wanted man in Meridian without his father's knowledge.

There was nothing to say. He had no defense for his actions, nor did he have any regrets.

Julian observed him, equally silent. "I'm not a complete fool," he said finally, "though you've certainly made me appear one lately."

"No," Caleb said quietly, but Julian ignored him.

"What are you doing, Caleb? What are you doing? What are you thinking?" In three steps, Julian had crossed the room, stopping barely a breath away from Caleb. "You aren't thinking."

At that, Caleb felt a spark of indignation rise within him. "That's not true."

"No? Then tell me, enlighten me, Caleb, as to what a thirteen-year-old farm boy is doing leading an uprising against a sorcerer and his army."

Caleb remained silent and Julian took a breath. His voice shook with barely restrained anger. "How long?"

"Six months," Caleb said quietly, eyes on the floor.

Julian nodded. "Six months," he repeated. Caleb winced. It sounded much worse when his dad said it. "What are you doing?"

Caleb looked up and finally met his father's gaze. "Someone had to fight back," he answered.

Julian rolled his eyes and backed away. "You're so young, Caleb."

"No one was doing anything!" Caleb snapped. "We live like slaves, we keep our heads down and our mouths shut and do as they say and they kill us anyway! People are starving, people are miserable. Someone had to do something!"

"Do you have any idea how serious this is?" Julian growled. "This is treason. This is not something I can protect you from-"

"I don't need you to protect me! I'm good at this! Outsmarting these people, out plotting them. I'm winning. And it feels so damn good to win."

"This isn't a game! This isn't just another chance for you to show off how clever you can be!"

"I'm not showing off!"

In half a heartbeat, Julian closed the distance between them. He grabbed Caleb tightly by the shoulders and shook him slightly as he spoke. "What are you going to do when they catch you, Caleb?"

"They're not-"

"What am I going to do without you?"

Caleb's retort caught in his throat. He and his father stood in silence for what felt like ages. Finally, Caleb whispered, "I'm sorry."

Julian released his death grip and backed away. "You're sorry you got caught."

Unfortunately, Julian was right. "I'm in too deep," Caleb admitted. "I can't back out now." I don't want to. I won't.

"I know that." Halfway out the door, Julian paused. With visible effort, he said, "I am on your side, Caleb, I am always on your side, and if you are in this fight, then so am I. But I don't trust you. That's done, and I don't know how that's ever going to change."

Caleb blinked. How much of his father's life had been spent protecting Caleb? And how much harder had Caleb made that task without realizing it?

Julian was still standing across the room, observing Caleb as he had back then. "I did what I thought I should do," Julian stated matter-of-factly. "There was no book for me to turn to and no one for me to ask. I handled it the only way I could think. Maybe it was wrong."

But you don't regret it, Caleb thought. You'd do it again, just like I would.

Caleb nodded once. "I trust you," he declared, both to himself and to his father. Julian frowned, surprised at the sudden change in the conversation. "I do." Caleb took a deep breath. "Do you trust me?"

In many ways, Julian and Caleb were very different. Julian was calculating where Caleb was reckless, calm where Caleb was bold, patient where Caleb was anxious. They were all traits that Caleb had envied growing up, and traits that, to this day, he tried to emulate. He didn't always succeed, but living up to his father's expectations was a constant goal. (He wondered, now, how much of him was like his other parent.)

But in many ways they were alike. Julian had passed on most of his interests to Caleb, his love of history and country, of the outdoors and travel. They both preferred to be alone, and – a new similarity – they'd both fallen in love with a Guardian.

It was more than just similarities and differences. They knew each other. Which was why Caleb knew that Julian knew exactly what he was referring to, and why Caleb believed him when he said, "Yes. Of course I trust you."

There was more to talk about, of course. The conversation about his mother had only just begun. But the rest could wait, wait until both of them were ready for it. Today, they were talking, and that was enough.

I think, Caleb, that you should talk to your father, Yan Lin had said. Caleb smiled to himself. As much as he hated to admit it, she was usually right.

"How did you manage to scare the griffin away?" Julian asked, putting his book away and interrupting Caleb's train of thought.

Caleb stared at him. "I didn't scare it away!" He stated indignantly.

"You had to have been pretty loud if it only let you get within three feet."

"What does it matter? What was I going to do if I got any closer?"

"Well, you always wanted a pet."

Caleb rolled his eyes. "If I catch it, can I keep it?"

"You won't catch it. You're too loud."

"As if you could catch one."

"I have."

"When?"

"Before you were born."

Smiling, Caleb settled on the chair across from his father. "Tell me about it."

I always thought the Caleb-Nerissa-Julian relationship was very interesting and might have been explored more if there had been a Season 3. Since there wasn't, I tried to dig into it a little here. I also wondered about the rebellion and decided to include a little bit of origin story in as well. This is a "sequel" (of sorts) to my other WITCH story, where Yan Lin convinces Caleb to have this conversation. As always, I own nothing.