a/n: Episode Tag: God's Word. Spoilers for this episode as well as "Thursday". I'm not sure what the pimps name is or the girl's, so I just used Andrea. Correct me if I'm wrong and I'll change it. Just to make sure, this would be AU because it's not like it is in the show.

Summary: This is the real reason why Ben got so emotional about the child-prostitute.

Turning Tricks

"You need to take a breath." Sammy told him, tossing his partner an ice pack for his hands.

Ben didn't look at him and didn't bother with the ice; he was too wound up. "I can do that!" He protested, making to stand up from the bench in the locker room.

Sammy pushed him back down. "You're not going anywhere until I know you have your head."

"My head's fine!"

"You really think so?" Sammy asked. "Because it wasn't too long ago that I was pulling you off a guy that would have been dead if I hadn't found you sooner."

"He deserves to die." Ben said through clenched teeth as he looked up at the other man. He could feel his hands throb with his heart beat, his knuckles cut to shit.

"He does," Sammy agreed. "By it's no gonna be by you, man. He'll get taken out on his own."

"No, he won't." Ben's voice was low. "They're all afraid of him,"

"Well, after what you did, they're going to be doubly so." Sammy snapped, "He's going to be pissed, and who do you think he's going to take it out on? Huh?"

Ben intertwined his fingers and put his elbows on his knees, his fingers squeezing. It hurt like a total bitch but it kept him centered, at least a little bit under control. He clenched his teeth. "The only reason that's going to happen is because you stuck your nose where it doesn't belong."

"My nose belong wherever you are," Sammy said, a finger extended at him. "You're my partner and that means if you pull shit like this, it reflects on me. You really want to loose your career for some prostitute that doesn't mean anything?"

That hit something deep inside of him, and he was unable to control his reaction. Some prostitute that doesn't mean anything. Ben leapt from the bench, Sammy was unprepared as he was shoved hard enough back into the lockers behind him that it was probably going to leave a bruise.

"Whoa!" Sammy shouted. "You're getting personal. You don't get personal!"

"So what if I'm getting fucking personal?" Ben demanded, his fists full of Sammy's black uniform.

"You need to calm the hell down." Sammy said through his teeth in Ben's face. He didn't push back though.

"How am I supposed to calm down you basically just that I don't mean anything?" Ben asked in a oddly quiet voice, giving Sammy another shove before he turned away, his fingers in his hair.

Sammy furrowed his brows. "What?"

Ben let out a harsh breath, his back to Sammy as he tried to compose himself. Sammy was right, it was stupid to get personal and he was an idiot for even letting it get that far. But it was because he had been where Andrea was, there was a reason why he was so showy and excelled with at his charm.

"Have you ever noticed the fact that I never say anything about my past?" Ben asked, finally turning back to Sammy, most of whatever had surfaced was shoved back down.

Sammy straightened from the lockers and shrugged his shoulders a little. "I just assumed it was because you didn't want to bring your personal life into the car."

Ben sat heavily back on the bench. "My parents died when I was fourteen." He found himself saying.

Sammy took a seat next to him on the bench, but didn't comment, just listened.

"I was put in foster care. I guess as things went, it wasn't to bad of a place to be, but I'd just lost both my parents I was going off the rails. I ran away, and. . . dropped out of school at the same time. I lived on the streets for a while, started to steal- going down hill. Turns out I stole from the wrong guy; he beat the shit out of me, then coerced me into his pocket. He became my pimp and I became a child prostitute. I was actually very popular..." Ben trailed of into quietness, not looking at Sammy but instead staring at nothing, his eyes blank. "I worked the park at night, so many Johns cruised that place. I turned tricks for about three years, the first was the toughest and most dangerous. I started with the small stuff, you know. Blow jobs and hand jobs, having them watch but not touch. Once, I went out of my usual area and was picked up by this guy, he was better looking than any of the other guys that I picked up. He took me to one of those run-down shit motels... I had no idea what part of town I was in, didn't have a phone..."

Sammy swallowed, this was getting pretty intense. And by the way Ben's face twisted and his eyes seem to darken and go glazed over, the way the kept wringing his hands, rubbing his cuts raw, it was going to get bad before it got good. But he didn't seem to notice.

"That was-" Ben swallowed. "That was the first time that I was rapped. And then he beat me afterward. I was so scared. Nothing like that had ever happened before, and I wasn't sure what to do. Did I report to the cops? Did I tell my pimp? Or should I just leave it? If I went to the cops, then I'd just get put back into the system, and to tell the truth, I would have rather sell myself on the streets than go back there. If I told my pimp, he wouldn't have done anything about it and I probably just get smacked around a bit more. So I left it instead. I became more aware after that, learning how to defend myself and search out the types. I got pretty good. I only got raped five more times in those three years. The last, that was the worst and I was beaten to an inch of my life and left in an alley to die. A patrol car found me..." He said it in hollow-wonder. "I was in the hospital for nearly two weeks and then put back in foster care. It was one in L.A. so my pimp never found me, I'd learned my lesson. Stayed in foster care and went back to school. Stayed off the streets. The cop that had found me, he actually cared. He kept me alive until the ambulance came and even visited me at the hospital and while I was in foster care. It was actually him that made me want to become a cop."

Ben blinked and licked his lips, sitting up straight as if he suddenly realized where he was. He looked at Sammy, who stared back, silent. Ben cursed himself, he'd never told anyone, not Cooper and he certainly wouldn't tell it to his partner, despite them being friends, but in truth they didn't barely know each other- or at least Sammy didn't know him as well.

"You didn't let it hold you back," Sammy finally said.

"You know," He started. "I hate sleeping with all those girls." He confessed, he'd already begun so what was the point in stopping now. He'd hit the bottom.

"Then why do you?" Sammy asked.

Ben looked at him. "That's what everyone expects, isn't it? The pretty-boy cop,"

Sammy shook his head. "No one expects you to be a playboy, Ben. And if we do, that's only because you do sleep with all the chicks. And besides," He grinned a little, "The rest of us blow-outs gotta live for something."

Sammy made a joke, trying to lighten this shit, and it did help a little but Ben didn't laugh out right.

"Andrea just reminded me of me when I was her age," Ben said. "She could get out, nothing's forcing her to live like that. She could take a bus and go home, get a better life away from the people who put her there. It's hard, it took something really bad and someone that actually cared- that's what it takes and that's what it took."

"I know you want help," Sammy told him quietly. "But she is not your responsibility. You have a heart, Sherman, it's not a bad thing, but sometimes with a job like ours, it clouds out ability to do our jobs properly. You're making things worse for yourself, and you're by kicking the shit out of that piece of garbage, you're making it harder for that girl. She's old enough to make her own choice."

Ben was quiet again, he'd reopened the cuts on his knuckles and blood trickled between his fingers. His hands were swollen and he was feeling the pain again, the memories from the past had dulled him, but he was back in the present and was reminded.

Sammy stood and looked down at his partner. "Put some ice on those hands, Sherman, before I give you something else to put ice on." He dropped the pack on Ben's bowed head before going him a rough whack on the shoulder.

Ben looked up at him in surprise.

"We're partners, Ben. I'll stick with you all the way, but if you pull shit like this again, they're not going to be the only one who got their asses whipped." Sammy told him, giving him a hard look before he left Ben alone in the locker room.

Ben watched him go and took the ice pack from his head, putting it on his knuckles. It took the burn out. He felt a weight taken from his shoulders, and despite what he'd done just two hours earlier, he felt like he could finally just relax. Take a seat and not have to worry, not be tense for once. He always felt like people were judging him behind his back, despite that he was positive that they didn't know of his past. But Sammy didn't and wasn't, even after what Ben told him.

Ben could trust him and that was all he ever needed or wanted, to be able to trust his partner to have his back no matter what.

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