I'm Ben

(Wednesday-Thursday Night, June 3rd)

Ben eyes the floor, "Did Mal just tell you or—"

"No," Carlos answers. "You're picky about meat. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"I don't know why I'm like this," he whispers. "My parents try to talk to me, but my father doesn't drink blood… Not anymore, at least. I'm not normal, even from their view. How am I to tell them? I can't even tell myself."

Carlos hesitates, "Maybe they already know." and when Ben turns to him, he sees the tears on his face. "I think, um, that my mother knew things about me before I did, and… maybe your parents are trying to talk to you, because they know what you're going through. Even if they don't do it themselves."

There's a sudden stab, and Ben hunches over, "They leave me in this pain?" He shakily breathes, "If they know, why don't they help?" Carlos glances down, mouth open without words. His friends think his mother was horrible to him, but at least he can say she helped him through this, or, in the least, she tried. Ben's parents haven't even tried. They're just all talk. "You know," Ben holds his arms over his stomach, "I always had this pain, but…" More tears fall to his face, "I don't remember it ever being this bad."

Carlos scoots over, "It's okay." and he holds one arm over Ben's back as he places his other wrist in front of him. "I'm here. You can stop the pain."

Ben looks down at the wrist, "I— I don't know how."

It takes him a moment, "I think you do."

Ben eyes the small area, "Maybe if I use my front teeth."

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Carlos quietly comments.

He lets out a breath, "Nothing's comfortable about this." before he shakes his head. "I can't do this. Why are we doing this?"

"We're doing it, because you need it," Carlos calmly answers.

"I don't need it," Ben denies. "I don't need it. You can go."

He looks over him, "I'm not going anywhere." and Ben cries even further. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because," he breathes. "I don't want to do this, and I hate that this thing keeps trying to get me to do it."

"What thing?"

"The— The… thing," Ben answers. "And you're all taking its side, but I'm Ben." He faces him, "I'm Ben. You should be hearing me."

"Ben," Carlos hesitates. "I'm confused. You're in pain. Don't you want help?"

"What I want," he sternly states, "is this thing out of me. Whatever this thing is that's hungry for blood, telling me to hurt people, and wanting more and more, I want it out."

"Ben," Carlos softly counters, "this thing is a part of who you are."

"No," he asserts. "I'm Ben. Me. Not this thing."

"Okay," Carlos's eyes widen. "You're Ben."

"Yes." He nods, "I'm Ben." as he slowly looks away.

"So," Carlos comments. "What now?"

Ben frowns, "I don't know."

He watches him grip onto his stomach, "How about I hug you?"

"No," Ben shakes his head. "It thinks it can hurt you if you do that."

"I'm not afraid of it."

Ben looks back at him, "I am."

"And you know what?" Carlos thinks. "That's okay." He moves forward, wrapping his other arm around him, "It's okay." He waits for it, and just as he'd expected, there's a pinch in his neck as he feels a wetness fill the area. It doesn't hurt as much as he'd expected, but he does notice himself grow calmer as the time passes. It's the blood loss. It must be.

After Ben finally releases himself, Carlos watches him lay down on the bed and covers the bite with his hand. He hears Ben mutter something in French, drifting to sleep, and Carlos stands to his feet. He nearly falls, using an arm to balance himself, but he's able to get to the office door. He opens the door, trudges up the stairs, and his sight flickers as he forces himself to make it to the door. He knocks, the blue haired girl opens it, and then it all goes dark.

When Carlos opens his eyes, he hears her say, "He's waking up."

"About time." He turns and sees Mal with crossed arms. "What part of not letting him near your neck did you not understand?"

"Mal," Evie furiously whispers. "Don't you want to know if he's okay first?"

"Right," she sits down across from Evie, before she pretends to smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he whispers. "I think so."

"Great." Her high pitch suddenly lowers as she frowns, "So, what part of the plan, exactly, involved you nearly dying?"

Carlos tries to sit up, "He wasn't eating. I just thought… I knew he would if..."

"Okay," Mal puts up a hand. "Just tell us what happened."

"I don't know," he places a hand to his head.

Evie turns to her, "Maybe we should let him sleep this off."

"You mean, like Ben's sleeping this off?" Mal disbelieves. "We need an alibi, E. What are we supposed to tell Ben's parents if we don't even know what happened?"

"I don't think they saw me," he whispers.

"No," Mal counters, "but Ben's covered in blood. If his parents see him like that—"

"If he sees him like that," Carlos interrupts, "he's going to think something happened."

"His father would probably get mad," Evie thinks.

"No," Carlos takes a breath. "Ben. If he sees himself, he's going to think something happened. You can't leave him like that."

"Something did happen," Mal counters.

"He didn't want to do it," Carlos quietly asserts. "I made him do it. It's my fault."

"You don't need to take credit," Mal frowns. "Ben's the one who did it."

"But he didn't want to," he says louder.

Mal moves closer, "Look."

"No," Carlos sits up more. "You listen. Ben was ranting about how him needing blood wasn't him, that it was like a thing living inside him." He thinks, "Like a parasite."

Mal and Evie share a look, before Mal excuses, "He's probably just talking about his eating issues. It does feel different from you, doesn't it, E?"

"It does," she frowns in confirmation.

"This was different," Carlos strains. "He was a mess. You should've seen it."

"He was a mess, because he was starving himself," Evie informs. "And he spends so much time alone. The voice must have been driving him crazy."

"He said he wanted it out," Carlos shouts. "He said he wanted the thing out of him." Mal turns to Evie, and he continues, "I'm telling you, something's really wrong with him."

"M," Evie unsurely says. "Eating disorders are supposed to help you. I mean, they pretend to be there for you. Whatever Ben's experiencing, it's not that."

"Then what is it?" she disbelieves, and she notices Evie eye down. "Eves," she stresses.

Evie faces her, "There's two parts here. Ben binges on food, but if he's refusing to have blood…" She eyes between Carlos and Mal, "Maybe there is something more. There's a part of Ben that wants the blood, but a larger part of him doesn't. He's binging and restricting, because he doesn't like the idea of needing blood."

"And he wants the thing that needs the blood out of him," Carlos reminds them.

Mal shuts her eyes and places a hand over them, before Evie takes her other hand, "Mal?"

"It doesn't matter if he doesn't know he's a beast hybrid or not," she shakes, and when she lets the hand fall, they see the tears. "He's going to kill himself, anyway."

"We don't know that," Evie hurries.

"Don't we?" Mal widens her eyes at her. "The problem isn't him knowing what he is. The problem's just that he's this way in the first place, and he doesn't get why."

"You really think he's going to kill himself?" Carlos worries.

"He's already doing it," Mal nearly yells. "Don't you see? His body tells him he needs these things, and he's been fighting it every step of the way."

"But, M," Evie tries to reason. "That doesn't mean—"

"He can't wake up alone," Mal's eyes shift, before she stands and strides to the door. "Give Carlos one of my sweaters."

After Mal shuts the door behind her, he questions, "Why a sweater?"

Evie points near the bandage on his neck, and he pulls at his t-shirt, noticing the dark stain on the black surface, "Oh."

When Ben feels the damp cloth on his mouth, his eyes open, "Mal?" She shushes him, but he can't help but notice the wet stream of tear marks on her face. "What's wrong?"

She painfully smiles, "Nothing." but her voice is soft and sweet, nothing like the assertive grit he's used to.

He feels the damp cloth again, and he grips her wrist to get a view of the red stained washcloth. His expression falls, as he looks from it to her, "What did I do?"

"Nothing," she whispers, and when she looks down at her wrist, he lets go of it. "Something's wrong. I did something, didn't I?"

Mal turns the cloth to the dry end, "No. You didn't." before she reaches for his lips. "Carlos just wanted to help you, remember?"

His eyes shift, and his mouth widens, "I…" He meets her jade green eyes, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," she shakes her head. "He's fine."

Ben places a hand to her face, and she shuts her eyes for a moment, "Then why are you so sad?"

She takes his hand into hers, "I don't want to lose you."

"Why would you lose me?" She sobs, and he lowers her head to see her, "Hey."

She faces him, "Carlos told me what you said, that you don't think this thing for blood is you, that it's just something inside of you."

His eyes shift, "I said that?"

After a moment, she continues, "Carlos, he said it sounded like a parasite. Do you remember what a parasite is?"

"Um," Ben tries to recall.

"It's a small, living thing that takes a person's body so that it can live," Mal rundowns. "Now, I know that you don't have a parasite, but do you really feel like your need for blood isn't a part of you?"

"It feels wrong," he lets her know. "When I… It is like it's not me."

"Then let's pretend it's a parasite." Mal makes sure, "But you know it's not?"

Ben frowns, "I know."

"Okay," Mal breathes. "Now, pretending that it's one, this parasite needs blood. It's in you, so it tells you to get it for it." She pauses, "You understand?" Ben nods, and she continues, "Now, if you don't feed this parasite, it will eat you." Her eyes widen, "You will die."

He thinks, "I don't want to die."

"So, you will make sure you get enough meat and blood," Mal's eyebrows raise, "so that you won't die."

Ben nods, "Yeah." but there's this sinking feeling, and he so wishes he didn't need to.

"Just one more thing," Mal tightens her hold on him. "The parasite isn't real, so there's no way for you to take it out." She shakes her head, "You can't cut it out. You can't burn it out. You can't poison it out. If you do that, you will die." Her voice shakes, "And I don't want to lose you. I really don't."

Ben runs his hands through her curly, brown hair, "I will never leave you." and Mal moves forward to kiss him.

Carlos looks over at Ben, "Aren't you going to eat?"

He awkwardly smiles at him, "I'm not hungry."

Carlos narrows his eyes, "So, how about you focus less on solving your hunger and more on stopping it from happening in the first place."

"Honey," his mother informs, "it isn't healthy to wait until you're starved to eat."

Ben moves the spoon around the beef stew, eyeing over the sandwich and mozzarella stick sides, before he meets his mother's brown eyes, "I'm not hungry."

"Ben." Mal furiously whispers, "Would you quit it?"

"What?" he turns to her. "I haven't felt this full in forever."

"You're welcome," Carlos thanks himself.

"Welcome?" Ben's mother inquires.

He sighs, "I may have ate his stuff. He's still mad at me."

"I'd be less mad," Carlos points out, "if you actually ate so that you won't need my stuff in two days."

"Yeah," Mal sides. "Carlos won't have enough snacks that soon."

"Ben," his mother laughs, "why don't you pay for the snacks."

"Well, I will." Ben excuses, "Um. He's just mad, because last time I gave him money for the store, when I came back, I left him with almost nothing."

"Honey," she faces him.

"Yes?"

His mother partly smiles, "You're a horrible liar." and when Ben cowers, his father grumbles. He eyes up at him. His father knows exactly what he had done.

"Alright," Ben breathes, before he wets his lips. "Carlos had a snack, and I stole it." He turns to him, "I'm going to pay you back."

He takes a moment, "You can pay me in chocolate."

"More sugar?" Ben gives a look of disgust.

"Hey," Carlos points out, "beggars can't be choosers. You're paying me in chocolate."

Ben frowns, "Okay."

"And I want you to eat," he adds on.

Mal places a hand on Ben's arm, smiling, "I'd like you too, too."

Ben lets out a big breath, "Okay." before he takes a mozzarella stick and dips it into the beef stew.