It was remarkable how quickly someone could be discharged from hospital when two insufferably optimistic people put their heads together. The doctor Ben had seen earlier, whose name he had never quite caught in the rapid, between breaths outbursts of conversation, seemed rather more excited to discharge him than the patient himself. Chris agreed quickly that Ben was more than ready to return home, despite the fact that the latter found himself yearning to stop for a break in the waiting room after crutching down from his room.
It also seemed as if Chris had been planning for such a moment several days in advance. He had returned from his car after an inhumanly short period of time with a familiar button up and pair of black jeans, swinging a pair of lace up shoes between his fingers. Ben trailed the plaid pattern of the soft, blue button-down, relishing the light fabric as it hugged against his body in a way the scratchy hospital gown never quite managed as it hung from his shoulders.
"Come on, Ben Wyatt," Chris' eyes were illuminated with a new glimmer of excitement and hope, "We'll be just in time for the second half if we run to the car." Ben raised one eyebrow and didn't reply for a moment, allowing Chris the time to follow his pointing finger to the crutches he leant on for support.
"Maybe not running," Chris corrected himself with an almost sheepish smile, "But we still need to move fast." He clapped his hands together loudly in the almost silent waiting room, causing the remainder of the patients who hadn't already been staring at him as he shouted loudly turned to watch the short exchange. Ben drew his head back as his hands came together loudly and grimaced at the echoing sound.
"You might as well give a motivating speech to the entire room while you're at it," he replied eventually before nodding his head over to the exit, just catching a glimpse of Chris' slightly beaten up car as it waited in the car park. Chris seemed to approve of his idea, shouting out a series of well wishes as the automatic door shut behind them. Ben was hit by a crisp breeze, stiff on the air and closed his eyes contentedly in the late evening sunlight. He had enjoyed feeling it creep across the back of his neck as he lay in his room, but nothing compared to the naked feeling of slight warmth on his skin.
"Isn't it just a lovely day!" Chris was watching him cheerfully out of the corner of his eye, breathing in the clean air, slightly intermingled with car exhaust fumes as Ben took in the most ordinary sight of a parking lot with the admiration of an art lover setting their eyes on a masterpiece for the first time.
"The little things, huh?" Ben commented finally, before setting off for the familiar chipped paintwork and dented doors; the battle scars of a state auditor's car. Chris followed close behind, smiling to himself more widely before muttering a short response under his breath. "The little things indeed."
Leslie managed to suppress the need to glance offstage after the first three questions. At first she felt an all too familiar urge to glance into Ben's eyes every few seconds, the same feeling that had overtaken her frequently as he slept unconsciously in hospital. She found her mind wandering, reeling off facts about one policy of the other as she firmly told herself not to push the podium away from her and shout some profanities in the direction of Jennifer Barkley.
The aforementioned witch, as Leslie had taken to calling her (although not around Ben, as even mentioning her seemed unwise) stood where Ben should have been standing, giving Bobby condescending nods and thumbs up every time he managed to string a few words into a coherent sentence. But Leslie found she couldn't hate him, no matter how hard she tried to mock his naive language and despaerte pleading to the audience in her head. Bobby Newport, whilst he was a fully grown man who could probably make his own decisions by now, had been misled by his father and he seemed all too kind and quite frankly helpless for that to be his fault. He didn't know Ben had been tied up in a basement somewhere, and would never have agreed to those sorts of underhand tactics if he could think for himself, Leslie assured herself. After all, it was Newport Senior who had the big ideas, as far as she was aware, so surely it was he who came up with the master plan.
Jennifer Barkley was being unbelievably confident however, showing her face in public as her DNA lay all over a house that had held another campaign manager captive. She retained that Washington, white toothed smile and still managed to keep every hair in place, something that made Leslie pat down the birds nest on top of her head every so often. The chief of police claimed that there had been no evidence to find in the decrepit house, although his eyes lowered every time he saw Leslie out and about, and he glanced towards the shredder in the corner of his office each time Leslie went to inquire again. However, ambitious as she was, even Leslie Knope couldn't bring down both Jen Barkley and the Newport's, not without someone of authority on her side, something she was severely lacking.
Ben and Chris heard the call for final statements as they rounded the backstage curtain and stood off to one side. Ben shook his head to keep his eyes from starting to close and hid a yawn in the sleeve of his shirt. He couldn't help but feel the guilt rise up inside of him as Leslie gave an impassioned closing statement, wondering if he would have been better staying at hospital, if only to actually have watched the entire debate. Chris shook his head at his side as if reading his mind.
"She'll be over the moon," he whispered reassuringly, patting Ben's shoulder gingerly, his hand hovering in midair for a moment.
"What?" Ben muttered distractedly, looking over his shoulder.
"Shauna Malwae-Tweep," Chris exclaimed under his breath, nodding his head not too subtly in the direction of the young journalist, "Do you mind if I go and say hello?" Ben shook his head despite the soft tremble that ran through his hand as it gripped his crutch more tightly. Chris had already done enough, he reasoned, and the poor man really needed some luck with the women in his life.
"I won't be more than a minute," Chris promised although Ben had heard this before and almost rolled his eyes, a low chuckle escaping on his next breath. Small talk for Chris involved a break down of every family member and friend he was aware of, covering every small detail of their lives in the last few weeks. Ben had made the mistake of mentioning his sister's foray into veganism once several years before. Despite the fact that she quit only two weeks after trying it, Chris still opened every conversation concerning her with a suggestion for a new restaurant or a recipe for her to make for herself at home. It was fair to say, the younger auditor had learned his lesson.
"Ben?" Amidst the sight of Chris bouncing over to Shauna, he applause for the candidates in the auditorium had died away, signalling the exit of the hopeful applicants, Leslie leading them off the stage before stopping at the curtain. Her mouth was open and curled into a soft look of delighted surprise, one that lifted the corner of Ben's mouth up mischievously. He hobbled forward one step, only to be barrelled into by a mass of blonde curl and garbled comments, directed into his neck as she clung on tightly.
"Hey, calm down," he murmured into the familiar smell of her tropical shampoo, his fingers flexing from their grips on his crutches and gently encircling her waist as her own made tight fists against his shirt.
"You're here," she said finally, pulling away with a slightly wet but glowing smile, aggressively brushing at her eyes before launching herself back against his chest. He laughed lightly against her head and she soon giggled to herself, the sound muffled by the soft fabric against her face.
"Chris said we should surprise you," he said as she pulled away completely, still holding one of his hands over the crutch, "He's gone to talk to some people." Leslie furrowed her brow slightly at Shauna as the two of them talked animatedly down the hallway but eventually smiled nonetheless.
"I would reprimand you for letting him chase after a loose cannon like her but today is about you and th fact you're stood right here. Out of hospital!" She smiled broadly up at him as he laughed again at her widened eyes and unquenchable cheeriness. He felt his hands settle into the handrests, no longer clenching at the plastic so tightly or shaking from the loss of her touch.
"It won't last if you keep jumping me like that," he replied jokingly and although her cheeks blushed a pleasant shade of pink, she still tightly embraced him again, still somehow avoiding every remaining bandage and bruised rib with her circling hands. Ben decided, with his chin on her forehead, that she probably had a map of his injuries hidden in a folder somewhere, no doubt detailing every spot to avoid with her bone crushing hugs. Truthfully, he probably wouldn't complain if she did hold him a little too tightly next to a bruise, the ache only reminding himself of what he would do to keep her close to him; it was a small price to pay.
"Leslie." That voice. Leslie felt Ben's shoulders tense and his teeth chatter involuntarily. His head lifted from her own tentatively and her hand felt his own begin to shudder uncontrollably. She turned around, her own back wanting to stay turned, her eyes wanting to remain blind to the witch who introduced herself.
"And Ben," Jennifer turned to him and Leslie watched him pale to a further shade of white below his usual complexion. The sight sent her fists curling against her side and she rounded on Jen with a laser sharp glare already fixed on her face.
"The debate is over and we have some celebrating to do," she announced icily, watching the previously devious expression on Jennifer,s face be replaced with disappointment, "So if you don't mind..." She patted a hand tentatively against Ben's shoulder, watching his eyes raise from the floor to meet her own, the same quivering fear replaced with their usual hazel warmth.
"Oh, you're no fun," Jennifer complained with a smirk before turning irritatedly at the sound of Bobby tripping over one of the nearby lecterns. Leslie took Ben more firmly by the arm and led him further away from the backstage curtains, waiting for his arm to relax and for the tension to seep from his tightened muscles.
"How's the leg?" Ben, somehow, tensed further, his pupils constricting as he shook his head towards the floor and took a sharp intake of breath. Leslie continued to guide him almost blindly as his eyelids clenched shut, the rhythm of his crutches against the wooden floor only stuttering for a moment before falling into sync with her firm footsteps. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his mind working rapidly, the same deer in the headlights look he got at the mention of Ice Town returning to his face. His breath shook in a similar way to the late night confessions of his failures and fears, nightmares that would pale in comparison to what was coming forcing him awake as the angry shouts of Partridge followed him from his dream. His skin would be slick with sweat when Leslie woke up from her light sleep, running a hand down his chest cautiously, feeling every compression and eruption of his erratic heartbeat.
It was the same now, his unsteady pulse pounding through his arms and legs, his forehead shining under the overhead lights. Ben was in a waking nightmare with Leslie, and the pinch she gave her arm wasn't enough to wake them up.