I'd Be Yours

(Saturday Afternoon, July 14th)

Ben peeks into the library, and when he sees his mother look at the double doors, he sighs and opens them. He takes a step forward and folds his hands, "How are you?"

"Fine," she evenly expresses from the red couch. "Thank you."

"I, um," Ben glances down, before he gulps. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay… Father said you were really upset last time."

She sets the book aside and meets his hazel green eyes, "I'm not upset with you."

"That's not what I asked," Ben steps forward. "I asked if you're alright." She fails to speak. "Mother?" She eyes down. "If it's something I said this morning—"

"I told you," she stands and faces him. "I'm not upset with you." She nods once, "You were just being honest. I'd rather have that than have you hold this in and perhaps, possibly, act on it later."

"I would never want to hurt you," he quietly comments.

"There's a lot of people you would rather not hurt," she frowns at him, "and yet, you do it anyway." He opens his mouth to speak, but then she steps forward. "I know it's not your fault. You're just ill."

"Mother," his voice shakes.

"But I would like to know something," she steps closer. "I saw the calendar after our interaction. You already drank before our, uh, talk."

"Yes," Ben confirms.

"From who?" Ben's eyes lower, and her eyebrows raise, "Carlos?" Ben meets her brown eyes, and she shakes her head, "He's just a child. You can't be drinking from him all the time."

"I know," Ben whispers.

She walks up to him, "But what I'd really like to know is why you were thinking about my blood, when you'd already had your fill." He eyes over her, and she questions, "What? Is this just some emotional thing, for you to be close to someone—close to me?"

Ben bites the inside of his bottom lip, "Perhaps."

She takes a moment, "If I were to give you a hug, would you think of biting me?"

He frowns, "Probably."

She nods before sighing, "I don't know how to help you, then." Ben doesn't speak. "How am I supposed to stop you from drinking so much, if I can't solve the underlying problem?" Ben lifts a shoulder. "The clinical term is called donating," she informs. "If you don't need that much blood, people shouldn't have to be lowering their ability to function just so you can have it."

"I know that," Ben tiredly comments.

"Do you?" she questions.

"I don't even like blood," Ben discloses. "I hate myself every time I have it." His mother quiets, and he continues, "I wish I could be normal, that I could just eat something and feel full, that I didn't have to smell everything all the time, but this is what I am. I smell someone nice, and if I'm hungry or upset, whether I want to do it or not—which I never really want to—I act on that smell."

"The smell, you say?" his mother frowns.

"Well," Ben thinks, "yeah."

"Have you tried that vaper gel for colds?" she suggests.

Ben offers an unsure look, "You think that would work?"

"You wouldn't be able to smell anything else," she answers, "but you wouldn't get distracted by any smells either."

Ben partly smiles, "That's a good idea."

She smiles back, but as she starts to speak a vibration comes from her pocket, "Hold on." She answers it, "Dr. Roberts?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mother?" Ben concerns.

"Well, where is she now?" she disbelieves.

"Mal?" Ben questions.

His mother holds up a finger before sighing, "Yes. That's good."

Ben tilts his head and hears the doctor comment, "I'll keep you updated on the situation, should anything else happen."

"Yes," she says again. "Thank you. Have a good day."

When she puts the phone back into her pocket, Ben asks, "What happened? How's Mal?"

His mother stresses a smile, "Just a little thing, really." before she falters. "Mal can breathe fire now."

"Breathe fire?" Ben shocks. "Like, fire coming from her mouth?"

"I believe so," she uneasily responds. "Dr. Roberts hypothesizes that she couldn't do this before, because there was alcohol in her system and her body knew it could be potentially dangerous—at least to the environment she lives in."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Maybe I should have talked things through with her the other day." before he scratches the back of his head.

"Speaking of the other day," his mother continues on, "I got a call from Snow White. She'd like to do that interview with you on those rumors of what's happened to Mal."

Ben eyes off, "You promised me I could speak in French."

"Everyone from Charmington knows French," she dismisses.

"Snow White lives in WindigBerg," Ben disbelieves, "not the French Quarter."

"She's a reporter," his mother reminds him, and when he looks away, she places a hand on his shoulder. "But I see your concern, and I will confirm with her."

Ben sighs, "Thank you."

A few hours earlier, Mal watches a red-haired nurse guide her way into the room with a cane, and she rolls her eyes. How's a blind nurse supposed to keep her from escaping? Mal smirks, eyeing from the nurse to the doorway, before she steps towards the door.

"Security is outside," she warns, and when Mal turns towards her, she watches the nurse set the foam tray onto an empty area of the bed.

Mal frowns at the foam lidded cup of milk and the meat and butter sandwich, before the nurse turns around, Mal places her hands onto her arms, and she meets her blue eyes, "When those guards leave, you will come back and get me out of here."

The nurse frowns, "You're cold." before she nods. "I'll let Dr. Roberts know."

"I want to see Ben," Mal asserts.

She takes a moment, "I'm sorry, but hybrids aren't allowed in your room right now."

"Hybrids aren't allowed to see me," Mal disbelieves. "Who's supposed to give me heat?"

"You will have to take that up with your doctors."

"The only people I know who give me heat are hybrids," Mal frustrates. "Who the hell do they think they're going to let touch me?"

She falters, "I'm sure that's not—"

"Never mind." Mal thinks, "It's been three days. I'll be out of here soon."

The nurse hesitates, "I heard your stay has been extended to the week."

"A week?" Mal grits her teeth, before she shoves her into the padded wall, "They're keeping me for a week?"

"Uh." She hopefully smiles, "Don't kill the messenger?"

Mal eyes over her, "Great idea. You look a lot more like the size I'm used to having for meals than that sandwich over there." and she smiles when she notices the nurse's fear.

The door thumps against the wall, and security pulls Mal away from the woman. One of the guards picks up the cane and places a hand on the nurse's back, "Let's get you out of here." and after they leave, the large guard keeping Mal away, lets go and hurries out the door. Mal rushes after them, but then the door beeps shut.

Mal slaps the door, "Ugh." before she moves over to the one-way glass and changes her eyes to inferred. They're still there. She pounds, "Let me out!" and the heat signatures face her. "I said, get me out of here," she shouts, and she steps back as a wave of heat escapes her breath. As her eyes change back to jade, she catches a flash of blue. Mal steps towards the glass again and blows a breath; however, nothing happens. She tries again and again, but there's still nothing. The alcohol withdrawal must be causing some sort of hallucination or sight abnormality. She huffs, and there it is: the fire. She takes a deep breath, letting it out in the same way, and there it is. Mal smiles, moving her face closer to the glass, and she watches as it starts to melt away. The guards come into view, their expression filled with shock and fear, before Mal steps through the dripping glass. She eyes over them once, before she turns down the hallway.

Dr. Roberts stands in front of her, "Mal. What are doing?"

"You can't keep me here," she furiously whispers, before she shivers and places her hands over her arms.

"We're just trying to help you," he calmly comments.

"By locking me in a room without a heat source and feeding me three stupid sandwiches a day?" she seethes.

"Belle did say eventually you would need more," he acknowledges. "I'm sorry."

"You're damn right," Mal grits her teeth. "I could have four thousand calories and not gain any weight. I bet I haven't even been getting two thousand while I was in there."

"Why don't we check your weight now and see a nutritionist, now, then," he suggests.

"I don't want a nutritionist," Mal strides forward and grips his arms. "I want out."

"It's not safe for you to go through withdrawal unsupervised."

"I don't care," Mal shouts, before she glows her eyes. "I said—" She takes in a deep breath and slaps where she'd been stung in the neck; however, it's too late, and she falls to the floor as the world turns to black.

"Mal?" Dr. Roberts inquires. Her eyes slowly open, and he asks again, "Mal?"

She sits straight up and gasps, "What happened?"

"Mal," he lifts a hand. "It's okay."

Her eyes dart over the windowless room, "Where am I?"

"You've been transferred to another room," he informs. "I'm going to ask you not to catch this one on fire, as there is only brick underneath the padding and—"

She holds onto her arms, "I want out of here."

"Mal," he starts, before he watches her blow onto her hands.

"Why isn't it working?" she shakes, before her eyes widen at him. "What did you do?"

"A sedative is unlikely to—"

"How long was I out for?" she panics.

"A couple hours." She stares at the white floor, and he comments, "Mal. It's okay."

"No, it's not," she hisses. "Anyone could've done anything to me."

His blue eyes lower as he frowns, "Mal. No one did anything."

"How do you know that?" she insists.

"I was with you almost the entire time," he reassures.

"Almost the entire time," she points out.

He feels a cold breath come from her, "Mal. If someone had done something, wouldn't you be warmer?" She stares past him, and he comments, "There's cameras. If you'd like, I can arrange to show you the footage."

Mal gulps, "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay," he partly smiles. "Now, it seems that breathing fire lowers your body temperature to the point that you can't use that fire anymore." She faces him, and he continues, "I will allow someone of your choosing come to give you heat, given that they are willing."

"Lonnie," Mal answers.

"I thought you wanted to speak with Ben?" the grey-haired doctor counters.

"Ben needed space," Mal shivers. "He said I needed to stay away, and like some slut, I just couldn't listen."

"He feels a similar way," Dr. Roberts informs. "Ben can't stand that he could have hurt you the way he did."

"I'm not the one with claw marks on my face," she counters.

"You were just defending yourself."

"Would you stop it?" Mal tears up. "Ben told me straight up that he would hurt me if I got too close to him. It's my fault I'm in here, not his."

He hesitates, "Maybe you think you could have avoided this, but even if you could have, that doesn't make you a slut or otherwise."

"Come on," Mal disbelieves. "If it just keeps happening… it has to be me."

"No, it's not." He informs, "You're just a victim of your circumstances."

"Everyone keeps saying that," Mal seethes. "What the hell, that even mean?"

Dr. Roberts watches her hunch over, shaking, "Let me contact Lonnie. If you don't try to hypnotize her, I'll allow you to speak with Ben after. Okay?"

"Yeah," Mal whispers.

"Good." The doctor points to the camera, "No one who would hurt you can get away with it, alright?" Mal nods, and he stands. "Alright." He walks to the door but then turns around, "I will also be making sure you have a better dinner tonight, so no eating anyone. Okay?"

Mal half laughs, "Yeah. Okay."

Dr. Roberts smiles, "I'll be back shortly."

When Ben enters the room, he folds his hands and awkwardly smiles, "Mal." She looks up at him, and he scratches the back of his head, "So, how are you? Or, uh…" Her eyes shift as she frowns, and he steps forward, "So… Lonnie."

Mal gives him a look, "Are we really doing this again?"

"No," Ben quickly responds. "Sorry."

"I should be dealing with Evie's jealousy," she comments. "Not yours."

"Jealousy," Ben thinks, before he shakes his head. "Right. Um." He moves to sit on the other side of the mattress. "So, how are you?"

"Hungry as hell." Mal eyes over him, "Are you okay with being this close to me?"

"Yeah, um," Ben glances down. "I have, uh, Vicks in my nose. The smell is having me not smell anything really right now."

"So, you don't feel like biting me right now?" Mal frowns, before she puts a hand to her mouth. "No one wants me."

He watches her eyes water, "Mal. That's not true."

"Then have me." She takes his hands, "If you want me, have me."

"Mal." Ben wets his lips, "If I were to have you, I wouldn't be able to stop." His frown deepens, "You would die."

"But then you would be whole," Mal reasons. "If you did it, I'd be yours. Forever."

When Ben stands, his hands slip from hers, he turns around and walks towards the wall, hand covering his gaping mouth. It's the same thing he told his mother. Ben turns around, "And what about Evie?"

"Evie," Mal partly smiles, standing up. "That sweet, innocent princess, she deserves way better than me." Mal walks over to him, "At least with you, I could give you something." before she places her hands on his shoulders. "Even if it's just a minute."

"Mal," Ben sighs. "You need help."

"I just want my life to mean something," Mal clings onto his shirt. "For me to mean something to someone." She leans in closer, "If you take me, I just know you would remember me. I would mean something to you."

"You already mean something to me." Ben breathes, and the smoky scent starts to invade his senses. He turns his head away, "Mal. I think it's not working… I can smell again."

She places a hand to his cheek and turns his head towards her, "Take me."

"No." He grips her wrist to take it off him, "Mal. I said no." before he grabs her other. "I want you to live, so I can have you in my life. Why can't I just have you like that? Why do I need to have you by taking your life?"

"I'm not good for you," Mal evenly answers. "This is the best thing I can do for you."

"Mal." Ben tears up, "You're the best thing that's happened in my life."

She glows her eyes, "You should have me." and a moment later Ben twists Mal around, pushes her against the wall, and bites into her neck. The sweet, smoky taste floods his mouth, and he places a hand onto her hip. He swallows the blood, and with each gulp, he just wishes for more, hoping it will never end; however, the blood slows, and he bites deeper. Something pulls him away, and he fights his way back to her. He has to have her. He has to have all of her.

When Ben's eyes crack open, he turns his head away from the bright lights, and he sees the grey-haired doctor sitting beside him, "Dr. Roberts?"

"How are you feeling?" he questions.

Ben swallows, "Like I have chalk in my mouth."

"Don't you mean charcoal?" his mother counters. "You did just try to eat a dragon."

He sees the light shine over her and sighs, "You're beautiful."

She notices his cocky smile, "And you're delirious." before she motions the doctor to the sink. "Would you like to get him some water?"

Dr. Roberts moves over to the sink, "It's probably the sedative." before he fills a paper cup and goes to hand it to Ben. "He may be a little blunt."

"Because, he wasn't already," Belle jokes, before she looks down at her son. "Didn't you just eat yesterday?"

Ben suddenly frowns, "I remember everything."

"Perhaps you'd like to tell us?" he requests.

Ben wets his lips, "She, uh." before he meets his blue eyes. "She hypnotized me. She said she wanted her life to mean something… that she wanted to be a part of me forever."

"Isn't that what you told me," his mother recalls, "that if you drank from me, I would always be a part of you."

"Yeah," Ben cringes, before he unsurely turns to the doctor. "Am I just crazy? How could she have thought something I was thinking?"

"It's not an uncommon idea that something someone eats becomes a part of them," Dr. Roberts reassures. "In some older tribes there used to be rituals surrounding the idea of reincarnation or transference of knowledge through cannibalism. In one tribe in particular, the family of the deceased would be obligated to eat the body so that their family member may live on through them." He eyes from Belle to Ben, "It would be easier for a carnivore to come to that type of conclusion, since their biology already has them consume animals—even humans."

"That doesn't excuse Mal's behavior," Belle intrudes.

Ben narrows his eyes at her, "Mal? I'm the one that hurt her."

"She hypnotized you," she reminds him.

"Because, she's not well," Ben defends, "and the only person she was trying to hurt was herself." Ben turns back to Dr. Roberts, "Please, say you can help her."

"Her court-ordered therapist arrives Monday," he informs. "We will see if we can collaborate with her to see what we can do."

Ben nods, "Thank you."