"The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him." ― G.K. Chesterton
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It were things like these that made Tom Mason worry about his son. Ben had gone on what Hal had described as a 'skitter rampage' lately. When Tom had 'left' three months ago Ben had been a normal child. Despite the spikes in his back, the dry patches, and the fact that he could hear the alien's communicative frequency.
So maybe he wasn't normal, but his personalitly was closer to his old self. He was a shy, timid, bookworm before. Now he had become a hostile, argumentitive, teenager.
Maybe he just grew up? Tom had thought on various occasions. But Hal hadn't been this bad when he turned about 15. Then again Hal wasn't Ben and Ben certainly wasn't Hal.
For a while Tom thought it was a good thing that Ben hated the aliens so much. It was better than him behaving like Rick, who said the skitters where his faimly and he was one of them. Everyday Tom reminded himself how lucky he was that his son wasn't like that.
It wasn't until he was in restraints on the medical bus when Ben came to talk to him that Tom really starred to worry. Ben had told him that his secret to keeping himself sane was hate. Hate? Could there have been anything worse? Possibly, but Tom Mason was done always seeing the glass half full when it came to his middle son.
Hate?
He tried to get the message across to his son that if you focous only on your hate then they've already gotten to you. He told him that the only thing that kept him going the last few months was the fact that he had people he loved in the 2nd Mass, his family and friends.
Tom did not get the reaction that he expected. Ben had said he had to go and then promptly left. But then again what did he expect?
Tom tried everything he clould to help his son. None of the actions seemed to do anything but he keeps trying. He'll keep trying too. You would have an easier time freezing hell over than trying to make Tom Mason give up on one of his kids.