Act 1 - Part 2
"So, what do you do that keeps your nose in a book all the time?" Ben asks trying to keep his voice steady. He is so used to projecting disinterest, hostility even, that allowing himself to ask a stranger a personal question is both novel and thrilling.
The girl's eyes meet his and he feels like a spotlight is on him, but not in the normal intrusive way. Rather it is like a sunbeam hitting him, and he feels both warmed and somehow lifted by her attention.
"I'm a doctor. Oh! Which reminds me," she says quickly, "I have to check on a patient."
Ben is shocked. This girl can't be much past the age of twenty, twenty-two at the most. Everything about her is bright and new, and while she's shown poise that belies someone so young, he still can't quite believe it.
"You are a doctor?" He asks, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he can. He immediately knows he has failed.
She gives him a sidelong look and sighs impatiently. "Yeah, I know. I'm young." He continues to watch her, feeling something akin to awe. She grumbles, a soft impatient growl at the back of her throat that he immediately finds endearing. He internally chides himself.
Get a grip on yourself.
"You don't happen to have a power charger that would work with this phone do you…it's about to die and I need to check on this patient…"
"My phone is broken," he answers absently, remembering how his phone had come to be broken. Pictures it flying across the room and shattering on the wall. He thinks about the day he had, the month, really. He tried to charter a private flight, but nothing was available until tomorrow and the dread he felt at the thought of boarding this plane, of being confronted with the public after such a terrible day, felt like too much.
"What is it?" She asks, and the look she gives him could be irritation at him for staring, or a reaction to the dark look he is sure he is wearing on his face as he relives his day.
She turns back to her phone and stares intensely at its screen.
"I just really need to get in touch with my boss about this patient," she states.
He feels the plane shudder, but he can't stop looking at the girl and realizes he is glad that he wasn't able to charter the flight. Suddenly she's looking at him again, a look of concern on her face that is softened by a little smile.
"Don't smoke and wear your seat belt…millions of lives saved," she says in a tone that brooks no argument. She points up and furrows her brow at him and all at once he can totally see her as a doctor. He looks up and notices that the fasten your seatbelt light is on. He didn't even hear it ding.
He buckles his seatbelt, but he wants to keep talking to her. He is vaguely aware of a feeling in his head that borders on dizziness.
Do I feel giddy?
"What kind of doctor are you?" He asks.
"Infectious disease. Epidemiology, stuff like that," she answers quickly.
Ben knows enough to know that this means she is incredibly smart. He was in a movie once involving epidemiologists and he remembers during his research for the part that epidemiology involved a lot of math that made his head swim.
"Damn," the girl breaths dejectedly.
"What is it?" Ben asks, hearing the concern in her voice.
"My patient is getting better, but not fast enough. He's going to miss his granddaughter's wedding." Her brow furrows and she bites her lower lip. Ben allows himself to get caught up in looking at her lips for a moment before he attends to the fact that she looks dismayed.
"Are you okay?"
When she looks at him, he watches as she fixes her beautiful features into something like an open bowl. She is so lovely that it takes his breath away, but then he is also aware of something else. He can see that she is acting.
"Yes, everything is fine." Her tone is calm and reassuring, as if nothing in the world could possibly ever go wrong. She continues to look at him, face serene and thoughtful. It is a considerate look, one that is both compassionate and circumspect. He wonders if this is her true self, or if this is who she is for her patients. All at once he wants more than anything to find out.
The plane suddenly loses altitude precipitously. Several unlucky people and things go flying into the air. Ben vaguely remembers a time long ago when his father yelled at him to tie down the shipment in the cargo bay of the small plane his father loved more than anything else.
"Don't want things flying all over the place if things get bumpy," his father said.
The girl startles when the plane drops and grabs onto his arm. He automatically reaches for her hand. He looks at her and the look of calm has evaporated from her features. Her eyes are wide in alarm.
"What was that?" She asks.
He thinks for a moment. He'd felt the starboard side dip when they dropped. Something with the engine?
"I don't know. But I've got a bad feeling about this," he says quietly.
The plane shakes violently and loses altitude again. When the lights go out, the plane is momentarily plunged into darkness until the safety lights go on. Several people start to scream and yell out in panic.
The plane levels out again, but Ben can feel that they are still descending at a lower than normal pitch and quickened pace. The flight attendants are recalled to their seats. Something is very, very wrong.
The girl releases his arm and is frantically texting on her phone.
The plane tips hard on the starboard side again, and this time Ben is sure that there is some kind of engine trouble. He knows these planes have multiple engines on each side for a reason, but they are going to have to land soon before the pressure on the other engines becomes too great.
"Do you want to use my phone to text someone?" The girl asks breathlessly, and he can see that her eyes have changed from being fearful to being focused. At first Ben doesn't understand why she is asking, but when realization dawns he is swamped in regret. Because he really doesn't have anyone to send a last text message to if in fact this is the end. At least not anyone who he has talked to very much during the past few years. Reluctantly he takes the phone. He tries not to look at her last text but can't help but read it.
plane going bad don't know but love you finn tell rose
He feels a pang for the girl and types in his mother's number, figuring he wouldn't be much of a son if he didn't at least reach out to her at this moment.
its ben don't know what's going to happen im sorry I love you
The moment he hits send the plane banks hard to port but drops altitude in earnest. Without thinking he throws his arm in front of the girl protectively. She wraps both arms around his. He looks at her and their eyes meet. In the low light he can just barely make out her features but fills in what he can from memory. It feels like grace that he should be allowed to look at this face at the end.
The plane bucks again and there is a groaning sound of metal grinding.
The oxygen masks deploy. Flight attendants scream over the din to don the masks and assume crash positions. They comply in unison, but continue to look at one another, even as they lean forward. He can't really lean forward enough as his body is too tall for the space, so he puts his arm over her back and bends his body over hers. She grabs his free hand in both of hers.
As the pilot yells over the intercom that they have found a landing site, Ben feels little reassurance. He can tell they are pitched too far forward. The sounds of alarms, grinding metal and people screaming is so loud that he can't hear her, but he can feel the girl's breathing beneath him. He places his cheek on her back.
And he thought this day couldn't get any worse.
Ben is sitting in what is probably the most uncomfortable chair of his life. But then the past 12 hours have been uncomfortable all around. He watches Rey, he knows her name now, talk to several of the hospital's doctors, and he is awed at her stamina. From the moment the plane crashed she has been doing nothing but helping other people, beginning with him.
The impact was stunning, but not nearly as bad as it could have been. Somehow, the pilot, Captain Calrissian, found a road in the dark using streetlamps as his guide, and through some combination of skill, luck and sheer will, managed to get the plane on the ground with no loss of life. The plane will never fly again, but all the people walked away with only minor injuries.
For Ben's part, he struck his head and shoulder very hard on the tray table in front of them when he slid forward on impact. The blow left him a little stunned, but he didn't lose consciousness. He knows this because he clearly remembers Rey's voice yelling from beneath him.
"Are you okay? Are we down?"
He sat back and looked at her, pulling the oxygen mask from his face.
"Yeah," he said, nodding his head and quickly realizing that was a very bad idea as nausea rolled through him slickly.
She ripped the oxygen mask from her face and looked at him very closely. He felt her fingers at the pulse of his neck. She slipped her hands to either side of his neck, palpating near the back of his head.
"Your head is bleeding. Minor. Probable concussion. Do you feel sick?" All her words came out calmly and efficiently.
"Yes," he said quietly, as everything suddenly seemed very loud. She handed him a vomit bag.
"Here. What is your name?"
"Ben," he answered, his own voice sounding tinny in his ears.
"Ben, I'm Rey. Thank you for protecting me during the crash. I'm uninjured so I have to go now to check on the other people. I will be back. Stay awake. If you feel like you are falling asleep, call my name."
Ben focused on her face then with all his concentration. Such a lovely face, with hazel eyes. He had always liked hazel eyes, how they could change with light and mood.
"Rey. Is your name," he said slowly.
Her face cracked into a smile that was like a brilliant star.
"Stay awake, Ben. Call my name."
That had been hours and hours ago, and Ben still isn't asleep. He watches her, amazed at the efficiency with which she moves from person to person, task to task. She repeatedly returns to him. She leans toward him so that she can look into his eyes. Even though he knows he is being assessed, it feels like more than that, like she is watching out for him.
Ben has never had anyone watch out for him, or at least not for a very long time, so he doesn't know what he thinks about it, and honestly, thinking hurts right now. Strangely it makes him feel vulnerable, which he doesn't like one bit. But somehow it also makes him feel cared for, which is a bit contradictory. It is the best analysis that he can do for the moment.
She even threw off a few fans who came poking around him and her ferocity is stunning, not unlike the plane impact. Someone must have told her who he is, because just a few minutes ago she stepped between him and another person and said in a low, dangerous voice,
"Yes, I know exactly who he is, and I don't care one bit. If you don't back off with that phone, I will have you removed. He is my patient and he is injured. Get out of this room, now."
Sometimes, when she returns to the room, she stands next to him and leans into the wall but also lets her side lean a little into his uninjured shoulder, placing her hand on it, her touch a reassurance. This little bit of familiarity is foreign to Ben, who normally dislikes being touched by other people.
She is doing this right now, and she says quietly, "I'm wearing out Ben."
"We should go then," he replies.
She is quiet for several beats.
"Yeah. Most everyone has been claimed by someone and the hospital's got it under control. We are pretty far outside Los Angeles though. I don't know where we'd go."
Ben reaches down into his pocket and pulls out her phone, which somehow remained in his possession through the entire plane crash and its aftermath.
"This is dead, but if you get me another phone, I can call someone who will have us out of here within an hour," he states, even as he feels the beginnings of dread. He really does not want to call Snoke, but if anyone can perform an extraction quickly and quietly it is his agent.
"I don't think that you leave the hospital, Ben. You have a concussion, and I don't know about your shoulder. You should have an MRI at least before we leave."
"My shoulder is fine. I tore my rotator cuff a few years ago, this isn't that bad. A little PT and I'll be back to normal in no time." Ben says all of this calmly, but he is distracted by his sudden need to get out of this place. He stands, willing himself to be steady on his feet.
She regards him silently for a few moments and he can see he's being assessed again. He forms his face into a crooked smile, puts out his hand and asks, "Phone?" She isn't the only one adept at acting.
For a moment he is concerned that she is seeing through him, but her own exhaustion must be winning out, because after a few moments she heaves a sigh and says in a defeated tone, "Okay, follow me."
He is glad she's walking in front of him so that she can't observe the unsteadiness of his gait. It isn't too bad, just a small shuffle now and then, but he knows he's off. When they reach the nurse's station she speaks to the nurse for a moment and then turns to him with the phone.
He dials Snoke's number feeling ill in the pit of his stomach but willing himself to squash it.
"Yes?" Snoke answers, drawing out the S sinisterly.
"I need a pickup and a hotel," Ben replies neutrally.
"Wait one moment, my boy. I thought you made it clear yesterday that I am persona non grata. Why the change of heart so soon?"
"I was in a plane crash," Ben states flatly, as if he is reporting the weather. "I'm stranded. I've paid your contract for the year. I need an assist."
The line is quiet for a long time, and Ben knows that Snoke is dragging this out to make him squirm. Ben fits his teeth together at the back of his mouth and grinds down. He is about to hang up and figure it out for himself, he is an adult after all and he is sure that he can navigate this problem, concussion and all, when Snoke returns to line.
"Its all set up. A car will be there in 30 minutes," Snoke says silkily.
Ben is so relieved that he could fall over but he keeps his tone placid, "I'm going to need two rooms."
Snoke doesn't even ask. There is a pause, and then he replies with a clipped, "Done!"
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Ben states, and then hangs up the phone. He looks at Rey, who has been leaning against the wall observing him quietly.
"The car will be here in a half an hour to pick us up."
Rey's brows go up in surprise and she asks incredulously, "What? How? You didn't even tell him where we are."
Ben's facade slips for a moment when he sighs, shaking his head and gazing that the floor. "Somehow he always knows. I wonder sometimes if he put a chip in my head or something."
When he looks at her again, she is gazing at him carefully, as if she is trying to get a read on something. After a moment or two her eyes drop and a crooked smile forms on her lips.
"I'll get you in an MRI machine yet, get a look in your head. I'll let you know if there's a chip in there."
His smile in return is a wince. "What if you don't find anything in there? What if it's just empty?"
She sidles up next to him and says gently, "Aww that's just the concussion talking. You seem like you've got a lot going on up there." They walk side by side and when Ben shuffles a bit, she links her arm with his. "Gonna have to stay awake for a while longer mister. We are going to have to find some cards to play or something."
For the first time since before the trouble started on the plane, Ben feels the stirring of hope.
Or something.