Love

(Friday Afternoon, August 23rd)

"I complied a list of highly requested questions that the people want answers for," Snow White starts. "I'm going to start out easy and then delve into the more serious ones."

Ben nods. "I understand."

She smiles. "Your father's in prison now. How does that make you feel?"

He shakes his head. "I've just been really tired. I slept all day yesterday."

"So, you're relieved?" she guesses.

He contemplates, "That's a word for it. Charming said what I'm feeling is a lack of stress. Knowing that I'm safe now, I should be able to sleep better."

"Which brings me to my next question." She addresses, "Now that the castle has been signed away to your cousin, your mother will me moving. Do you plan on moving with her, now that your father's no longer a concern?"

Ben glances down. "She would want me to, but I don't think that's a good idea." He opens his mouth, but it takes a minute for him to find the words. "As much as I will miss her, I need time to… well, get over her." He half laughs. "We were told that the trauma my father caused us is what made us so codependent on each other. It's recommended that we take some time for ourselves so that she can find someone else to trust and so that I can move on."

"Do you think you can do that?" she questions. "Move on?"

"I really don't know." Ben wets his lips. "I don't know how long I've had these feelings for her. I think she knew about it before even I did." He faces her. "It's illegal, and I understand why. The only thing I can do is keep my distance."

"If you're dating Mal, that should make it easier," Snow White continues.

"Uh. Right." Ben bites his lip. "Mal doesn't want to be with me right now."

"It sounded like she did when she defended you a few days ago."

"She was pointing out that I have a type." Ben frowns. "She cares about me, but she doesn't think we're going to work out… And she's probably right." He takes a deep breath. "Anyway. Dating Mal wouldn't help me. I find people attractive, whether I'm with someone or not. If anything's going to help me, it's time and space. That's it."

"Speaking of space," she continues, "people are wondering whether you're a carnivore, now that it's been confirmed that your father is one."

"Let's be clear about one thing." Ben's frown deepens. "I was raised human. I consider myself human, and I want to be treated as one." His eyes lower. "I didn't know I was a carnivore until second semester last year. Growing up, my parents had their excuses. I was naturally athletic. Meat was a food requirement everyone craved. My high body temperature, a birth defect completely unrelated to being a beast." He shakes his head. "I might have a mutated strain of the acuti virus, but I am not a carnivore. As soon as there's a cure, I'm taking it."

"And in the meantime?" She asks, "Is blood a requirement?"

"Sort of." Ben admits, "I spent so much of my life without it, now whenever I get a taste… I feel like I can't stop. It doesn't satisfy me."

"That sounds serious."

"Some days are easier than others," Ben reassures. "So long as I'm honest with the people around me, that's what really matters."

"Do you have a donor?" she questions.

Ben faces her. "I have a manservant. What I do with him is really nobody's business."

"A statement like that," she warns, "people will assume you drink from him."

Ben falters. "He has a knife. If I don't stop, he has orders to defend himself."

"That's a little excessive, isn't it?"

Ben lifts a shoulder. "Like I said, as soon as someone is willing to cure me—whether it be by medical or magical means—I'm all for it. Until then, I'm taking precautions."

"I understand the precautions," she says, "but wouldn't it be easier to just accept yourself as you are?"

Ben's eyebrows furrow. "Is that question from the people or from you?"

"It's from me," she answers. "It wasn't until after my son accepted himself and his dietary requirements that he had peace of mind. Have you thought about maybe seeing a therapist to examine the lies your parents have told you over the years?"

"Which lies would those be?"

"Well," she comments, "it seems like whenever you struggled with what you are, your parents made light of the situation, gave you falsehoods to explain it away. It couldn't have been easy managing your needs, when your parents were trying to convince you that you're human."

"I am human," Ben says again. "This virus might have changed the way I eat, but I'm not my cousin. I'm not willing to believe that just because I was born sick, it's who I am." He pauses. "You're right. My father should have told my mother that he's still a carnivore, and they should have helped me obtain resources for it. Because I didn't know what was wrong, I felt like I was losing my mind for the longest time. I had thoughts and urges I couldn't explain, and I did things I never thought myself capable of." He folds his hands. "A little honesty would have gone a long way, but I don't believe I'd have felt any differently." He meets her eyes. "As my cousin put it, I'm an abomination. I don't have the instincts to survive as a carnivore, but I'm too much of an animal to live with humans." His voice crackles. "And maybe I'll never fit in with either one, but I need to stop hurting the people I care for most. I need a cure."

A moment passes, and Snow White's voice lowers, "People are wondering if you've committed any crimes as a carnivore."

"Just assault." Ben clears his voice. "All the times I've admitted to assault or attempting to assault my girlfriend or friends, people assumed it was sexual assault." He glances down before peering past her. "That's not entirely wrong. I have a very hard time telling the difference between a need for connection or a need for blood, because most of the time, I long for both. The people I'm attracted to, part of why I'm attracted to them is because of the way they smell. Their scent is comforting, and I can't help but want it." He shakes his head. "I've never torn anyone's clothes off or raped anyone, but I have violated people. For blood and for connection."

"People like Chad Charming?" she prompts.

Ben's expression falls. "For one, yes."

"You find him attractive?" she assumes.

Ben's eyes shift. "I find a lot of people attractive."

"But you're living with him, aren't you?"

"Until the school year starts." Ben answers, "Yes."

"What about after the school year?" she questions. "King Charming is your guardian now, isn't he?"

"Not legally." Ben carefully examines. "He's trying to help me, same as he always has. My mother's just accepting his help now, given the circumstances."

"And given the circumstances that you are attracted to Prince Chad," she comments, "is it wise for you to be living with him?"

Ben murmurs, "We have separate rooms. It's no different than the school dorms. And Charming has guards watching us. I couldn't do anything, even if my mind does escape me."

"Do you love him?"

Ben's eyebrows raise. "Excuse me?"

"Do you love him in the same way you've said you love Mal and your mother?"

Ben awkwardly smiles. "How many people can one person love at any given time?" She waits for him to answer, and he releases a breath. "Here's the thing. When Mal ended things, she said she was grateful for the time we shared, because I taught her what love looks like. But love is supposed to be selfless, and… I can say that the people I'm attracted to of whom I've formed a bond with, I can say I love them… I just don't know if it's the kind of love people talk about."

"But when you say you love someone," she continues, "would you describe that as a feeling you have for Prince Chad?"

"For Chad and Mal, my mother, the pizza guy, and… a lot of other people I have no business falling so hard for." He strains a smile. "And it's always so sad when I'm told I can't have any of the people I'm interested in." He shakes his head. "Any other questions?"

"Have you ever killed anyone?"

Ben's expression evens. "No. Never."

Ben glances around the vast clothing store. "My parents wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this." They walk down the hall, past the children's clothes. "The last store I was brought to was specifically tailored for private school dress of male fashion."

"No wonder, you never liked anything," Chad inputs.

"It is a pretty limiting store," Charming agrees, before they make it to the men's department. "Do you see anything?"

Ben frowns. "Clothes."

Charming sighs before walking over to a rack of button ups. "How do you feel about pastels?"

"You would look good in the blue," Chad supports.

"There's pink." Ben suspiciously eyes them. "Are they supposed to be here?"

"Pink used to be considered a very strong color." He takes one off the rack. "You would probably fare better in purple, but it's your choice."

Ben's frown deepens. "The blue."

"Anything else?" Charming asks, and he shakes his head. "You're going to need some pants that fit."

After he walks away, Chad questions, "Having fun, yet?"

"I hate clothes shopping," Ben complains.

"It wouldn't be so bad if you actually picked something you liked."

Ben narrows his eyes at him. "And if I don't like anything?"

Charming returns with a pair of slacks and gives the two items to Ben. "Here. Try these on and let me know if they fit." Ben walks away to the fitting room, and Charming turns towards Chad. "Can you do me a favor and head over to women's, pick out a couple things you think Ben might be interested in?"

"You kidding me?" Chad gapes. "Ben's not going to wear girl clothes."

"Then don't make it obvious," his father requests.

"But girl clothes are meant for girls. With boobs."

"Not all girls have breasts," his father mutters, and Chad shakes his head. "Look." He places a hand on Chad's shoulder. "Ben's hiding a purple and blue, sparkling blanket in his room. Just think of the colors. Okay?"

Chad slowly nods. "Because sparkly clothes won't be obvious." He takes a step back. "You're going to regret this." He turns around and strides over to the women's department, murmuring, "The colors are different here." He takes a deep breath before stepping into the large assortment of clothes. "Purple. Blue. Purple. Blue. Purple. Green." Chad steps towards the button up with rolled sleeves. The sea green lines run through the purple, as the sparkly thread separates the two colors. He finds it in a smaller size and takes it off the rack.

"I know you think you're all bran—" He jumps, his eyebrows raised as he faces Audrey. "—but you are not that small."

"It's for Ben," he hurries.

"For Ben?" Audrey disbelieves.

Chad ruffles his hair. "Uh, yeah. My dad thinks he has a secret."

"Secret?" Chad eyes away, the words failing to leave his lips. "You know what?" Audrey holds up a hand. "I don't care. What are we talking about here?"

"I'm trying to find things a guy would wear in girl colors," Chad explains.

She nods. "How about a nice, formfitting sweatshirt?"

Chad follows her. "He has that, you know, medical problem."

"He uses them instead of jackets," Audrey rebuttals. "You know, when his parents aren't making him do interviews in full-on suits. Thank God, they aren't a problem anymore." She takes a bright zip-up off the rack. "Here. He always looks nice in blue."

"And something he'll wear more than once a year?" Chad asks.

Audrey walks over to the tank tops, holding one up to herself. "What about this?" Chad points to the ruffles. "So?"

"That's obviously a girl's shirt," Chad complains. "I'm trying to find things Ben likes that he'll willingly wear."

"Alright." She puts it back and finds the t-shirts. "What about these?"

"The sleeves don't cover the armpits."

Audrey examines the tulip quarter sleeves. "So? Ben shaves."

Chad's eyebrows furrow. "How do you know that?"

"I did date him."

"And he took off his shirt for you?" Chad doubts.

Audrey places her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe he loved me too."

"Not enough to take off his clothes," Chad disagrees. "What? Did you pressure him?"

She shoves the shirt to his chest. "Unbelievable." She strides off before turning around. "For your information, we were swimming." She grins. "Good luck navigating this maze without a GPS. Girls have five times as many clothes as guys."

Chad frowns, as he looks around. The hallway is nowhere in sight. He puts the t-shirt back. It doesn't matter. He'll find it eventually, but, for now, he's got to find more button ups.

"There's no way these are guy clothes." Ben notes, "The button ups have V-necks."

"We can add a button for the top," Charming negates.

Chad watches Ben stress over the shirts. "I just thought… the colors." Ben looks up at them. "Do you hate them?"

"I can't wear these," Ben whispers.

"Says who?" Chad angers, "Your father? Because he's not here anymore."

"You need to be able to express yourself," Charming agrees. "Even if you only wear it in your dorm, it's a start."

"And if expressing myself is too hard?" Ben faces Charming. "I've always played the part of the perfect prince, heir to the throne. If I'm not King Ben, then who am I?"

"Whoever you want to be." Ben quiets, and Charming comments, "You're free now to make your own decisions. Whether it be the way you dress or the way you rule, no one can tell you who you are or what you should strive for."

"If I dress the way I want, the people will think I'm weak." Ben evenly expresses, "What would you advise me to do?"

"The people like you, because you're honest." Charming answers, "Your honest approach to things makes you stronger than any threat your father could have made. If you're true to yourself, their confidence in you will only grow."

"You're certain of that?" Ben doubts.

"Every ruler has their critics," Charming answers, "but the critics you have right now are the ones who want to see more of you. I say, give them what they want."

"I need to think about this." Charming nods, and Ben takes the shirts from Chad. "Thank you. I do like them."

Chad has a hard time finding his smile. "What are friends for?"

"Question is now," Charming looks between them, "when are you two ready to go back to school."

"School." It's as though a bus crashes into Chad's chest. "Like. Where teachers are."

"We would obviously have a formal meeting with Fairy Godmother beforehand," his father reassures.

"And when's that supposed to be?" Chad unenthusiastically asks.

"So, lets hear the order of events," Fairy Godmother prompts.

"Order of events?" Chad repeats.

"He visited you in the hospital, after you'd been paralyzed during the tourney game," she reiterates. "What happened next?"

He rubs his leg, where the pin had pricked him. "Do I really have to paint you a picture?" Chad angers. "The hospital had cameras. Just look at those."

"Sadly." Fairy Godmother frowns. "That would require a police investigation, so unless you'd like to press charges—"

"Press charges?" Chad outrages. "I can't even get you to believe me."

"If I'm going to confront a professor about sexual assault, I'm going to need to know how serious we're speaking of here."

"Pardon," Charming interjects, "but wouldn't any kind be serious?"

"Of course." She glances between them. "But here's how this goes: the school opens an investigation, we inform the professor that he will be put on a paid suspension during said investigation, and we interview the students and staff to see if they've seen any worrying behavior. We see if any of them can corroborate your story, and once it's confirmed to be true, Professor Hawthorne will lose his position as this school."

"That's it?" Charming addresses, "Something so serious, and all that happens is that he loses his job? Professor Hawthorne just published a best-selling novel. He raised money to research the acuti virus in-depth. He has more followers online than every royal combined."

Fairy Godmother raises her hand. "I know. He has other livelihoods to fall back on."

"People would pay him just to show up to their event," he argues.

"If you want true justice," she recommends, "you would need to report to the police. The only power I have is over this school."

Chad crosses his arms. "That's a lie."

"Chad," his father says.

"Want to talk about power?" Chad raises his eyebrows. "Why don't you bippity bobbity boo Ben human before he kills someone?" He straightens, widening his eyes. "Or—better yet—spell every faculty member to tell the truth when you ask them if they're interested in molesting underage guys and stabbing them with frickin' Nobel Prize pins?"

"Is that what happened?" Fairy Godmother seriously asks.

Chad's expression slips, but his voice remains strong, "That graphic enough for you?" She nods and reaches for the landline. "What are you doing?"

She meets his eyes. "Calling him here. I will have to tell him about the investigation and gather his class plans for the substitute."

"But… he'll know it was me."

"You're free to leave if you wish," Fairy Godmother reassures, and Chad's head lowers. "Professor Hawthorne is thirty-four years old. It's unlikely you're his only victim."

"And if I am?" Chad softly says, before he leans back in his seat.

"You think you're the only student he's hurt in his fifteen years of teaching?"

Chad doesn't speak, and his father comments, "He wasn't helping you, Chad. You might not think he got anything out of it, but what is got is something to think about later." Chad sniffles. "Whatever help he claimed to have offered you, it was a lie."

His voice rings in his ears. The best way to defend against a predator is to play dead. If you don't make any moves, they're unlikely to retaliate. "I lied."

"What?" his dad disbelieves.

"I lied." Chad looks at him before facing Fairy Godmother. "I'm sorry, but you don't need to call him."

"I understand if you're scared," she carefully comments.

"I'm a lot of things," Chad evenly states. "I'm not scared. I don't get scared."

"Boys aren't encouraged to develop emotional intelligence," she notes. "You might feel scared or sad but only have anger to compare it to."

Chad takes a moment. "I lied. I'm sorry."

"Why would you lie about something like this?" Charming discounts.

He faces him. "Maybe I was trying to prove a point, that it doesn't matter how respected you are or how much good you do. It doesn't make you a good person."

His jaw drops. "Is this still about Pastor Richards?"

"Funny how you were able to believe me over a nine-year-old who knows nothing about sex," Chad points out.

"You're my son," he asserts. "Of course, I was going to believe you."

"Then believe me when I say he didn't rape me." He turns to Fairy Godmother. "Can I go now. Please."

"Head to the dorms," she permits, and Chad rises from his seat.

Charming looks over his shoulder, as his son leaves. "I can't believe this."

"I'd take it easy on him." He frowns at her. "I don't take accusations like this lightly. Usually, if someone says something like this, it means they were hurt in some way by someone."

"You think Hawthorne really did it," he assumes.

She holds the pen between her fingers. "Professor Hawthorne is a narcissist. He has broken rules before, and he does try to charm his way out of it each and every time."

"But something like this," he negates.

"After how Chad reacted to finding out that Hawthorne was in charge of Carlos's recovery, I have to believe that he does perceive him as a threat." She explains, "Whether Hawthorne is a sexual predator or not is the only thing up for debate here."

Charming falters. "Chad said Hawthorne didn't do anything."

"Do you believe him?"

"I believed him when he said it happened." Charming sighs. "Now, I don't know what to think. I mean, it wouldn't be uncharacteristic of Chad to go to extremes to prove a point."

"Sadly, there's no way to no for sure," she empathizes.

"What about the investigation?" Charming questions.

"We can't investigate something we know nothing about." She eyes over the papers. "We don't know what crime he's committed, if any. For all we know, he might have just offended Chad in a very public, unflattering way."

Charming hesitates. "I've had guards posted to Chad and Ben. I'd like to know if I may allow them to continue monitoring them."

She sets the pen down and meets his gaze. "I will need to do a background check on them, and they will be required to sign the appropriate paperwork."

"Okay," Charming accepts.

"Chad's guard can monitor his classes during the day and patrol the dorm hallway in the afternoons," she conditions. "Ben's guard can follow him as needed and patrol the hallways at night. Neither one of them is to enter the dorm rooms, unless the door remains open."

Charming's mouth cracks open. "Teenagers don't leave their doors open."

"For good reason," she points out.

"And bad ones," Charming counters. "Ben has a history of suicide attempts."

"Doug's already on campus." He releases a breath, and she reassures, "Believe me. I put in the necessary measures after last semester's events."

Charming frowns. "Alright. So long as the guards are allowed to enter the room if someone calls for help."

She takes a moment. "If Ben has a visitor. Not for Chad."

His eyes narrow. "Why not Chad?"

"Chad doesn't coax people into sexual activities and then decide to eat them instead."

His face relaxes. "That's… very considerate of you."

She nods. "When should I expect them?"

"Well," Charming thoughtfully says, "Chad's guard is still sick, but Ben's could sign the papers in the afternoon, maybe."

"Is he here now?"

"No." He explains, "Derek's been a little overworked. I gave him the day off."

Her eyes widen. "If my daughter had your kid's problems, I wouldn't leave her alone for one second."

"Trust me. That was the plan." His eyes shift. "Somehow, it never occurred to me that they might get sick."

"Ben," Chad panics, as he runs over and drops to his knees. "It's okay." He places his fingers around the cut, where bloods seeps though, and Ben winces in pain.

"Don't breathe too hard," Chad commands.

"Take the knife out," Mal urges.

"Then nothing's stopping the blood." He looks up at her. "You have magic."

"Not for this," she hisses.

"But you can freeze time," he reminds her. "Like when he was trying to jump—"

"I can slow down time," Mal corrects. "I would have to come up with something fast to make it not completely pointless."

"Chad." Ben grips his free hand. "Look at me."

He examines his green hazel eyes. "I'm here."

"It's time." He cries. "You're king."

"I don't want to be king." Chad sadly grins. "I want you. I need you here. With me. We're going to get through this. You'll see."

"Chad." He whispers, "Let me speak." Ben stares as Chad's lips close. "I need to… I… I love you."

Tears flow from Chad's eyes. "I love you too."