"What the fuck is going on?"

Leslie jolted awake to screaming, never exactly having been a deep sleeper. Her eyes were fuzzy and it was hot and she was very tightly wound around Ben, who she realized was shaking. She shifted, moving to push her hair out of her eyes, when the yelling started up again, and she realized what it was.

"What the fuck, Leslie? What are you doing?"

Oh god. Oh god, shit. Mark was standing in the doorway, Mark was home early. Mark, who was still her fiancé, and she still wore his ring on her finger, was staring wild eyed and red faced at her as she was naked and in bed with another man.

"Mark!" she squeaked, sitting up in bed and pulling the covers over herself. Ben was beside her, frozen in place and completely petrified, nearly ripping his hair out of his head. She suddenly found herself very grateful that Ben had at least managed to pull on his boxers before they fell asleep last night. "Mark, listen to me—"

Mark pointed a shaking finger between her and Ben, the rage bubbling precariously under the surface. "No. No, no, no. This… this is… Leslie, the ONE goddamned man I told you from the START wanted you. The one man I was insecure over—"

Suddenly, she was angry. "Don't play the insecurity card. That makes you sound like a victim."

"I AM THE VICTIM HERE!" he screamed, and Ben flinched beside her. "What part of that do you not understand? Shit, Leslie, I asked you to marry me! I got down on one knee and was ready to start a family with you and you… how long has this been going on?"

This was terrible. This was absolutely, one hundred percent terrible, and not at all how she pictured this was going to go. She imagined sitting down with Mark that night, alone, and calmly explaining to him that she no longer wanted to marry him, that she had caught feelings for someone else. She wanted to work things out with as little conflict as possible, because she knew dealing with Chris at work was already going to be bad enough. But now… "Since before you proposed," she choked out. She couldn't even lie, god, why didn't she lie?

There was a scary flash in Mark's eyes. "You… you said yes to my proposal… you agreed to marry me knowing you were cheating on me with your fucking boss? Do you have any idea how messed up this is, Leslie? This is a seriously fucked up thing—"

"Leave her alone."

A quiet voice, but was heard nonetheless. Leslie and Mark's eyes darted over to Ben, almost forgotten, and Leslie wished he had stayed that way. If he hadn't said anything, she likely could've protected him. She could've gotten him out before Mark turned on him. But now…

Mark's eyes went dark as they trained on Ben. "What… the fuck did you just say to me?"

Ben's fingers gripped desperately at the blanket like a lifeline. "I said… leave her alone. You can't talk to her like that."

"I'll talk to her however the hell I WANT to talk to her, Wyatt, and I'll do the same to you. You don't think you're off the hook, do you? I swear to god, I should beat your ass for putting your hands on her—"

"NO!" Ben shouted, looking about ready to stand up, boxers be damned. "No, screw you, Brendanawicz. You don't get to have any say in any of this, because this whole time all you've done is be awful to Leslie."

Leslie winced. "Ben—"

"Excuse me?" Mark interrupted. "All I've done is be awful? What the hell have you done? I've known her longer, I've been with her longer, I know her better than you ever could—"

"Leslie deserves better than you."

"AND LIKE HELL YOU'RE WHATS BETTER!" Mark and Ben were both standing now, Ben small and shirtless and Mark very tall and very angry. "You think you can just sneak in here and steal her away from me?" Mark shoved Ben's shoulders, knocking him backwards and almost off his feet. He kept moving too, his hands in fists, as if begging Ben to start a fight. "I swear to god, I swear I'll kill you, Wyatt."

"ENOUGH!" Leslie screamed, wrapping a blanket around herself and throwing herself in between Mark and Ben. She pushed at Mark's chest until he backed up, and she stood in front of Ben, an arm outstretched. He didn't deserve to have to deal with this. "ENOUGH, Mark, don't you dare touch him."

Mark snorted. "You're right, I should've left touching him to you."

She felt her head about to explode, clutching the blanket around her body like her life depended on it. "No. No, you know what, Mark? I've got something to say to you, and you're going to listen. I'm going to be honest with you."

"Have you ever been honest with me?"

"YES!" she heaved. "Yes. I have. And then I wasn't. And now I'm going to be more honest than I've ever been before." She took a deep breath, and prepared herself, but try as she might she couldn't plan out these words. They were going to come out of her however they wanted to, because after so long of holding them in they were now bound to spill all over. And maybe that was okay. Maybe she was sick and tired of hiding how she felt and dancing around Mark's feelings. "We got together over two years ago. You kissed me by the pit in Lot 48 and I wanted to say no to you that night. I wanted to yell at you or reject you or anything but what I did. And then I accidentally tripped you."

Mark gave her an odd look. "What are you talking about? You tripped me?"

"I didn't mean to. And I never told anyone, just let everything think you fell. But I felt so bad about it, I decided to go out with you."

He laughed, cold and empty. "So you're telling me I was a goddamn pity date?"

Leslie held up a hand. "Let me finish. From the very beginning of our relationship, I didn't act like myself. I twisted every part of my personality to fit what you wanted, what made you happy, and it got to a point where people didn't even recognize me when I was around you. I didn't even realize I was doing it… until a very smart person told me I should yell more."

She imagined Ben behind her, but didn't dare look at him. She knew he was concealing a tiny grin, she knew he was creeping closer and closer towards her as if to keep her safe, to stay by her side. She was very thankful for him for that.

She continued. "I should yell more. I do it with everyone else, but never with you. Not enough with you."

"That's bullshit," Mark said. "You've been yelling at me a lot lately."

"Lately, exactly, that's the key word here. Because of what that very smart person told me. Because I've been slowly realizing he was right, and I've been getting better. Stronger. Smarter."

Mark's hands were on his face. "Then what the hell did you accept my proposal for?"

"I shouldn't have," she said. "It was a moment of weakness. I was losing a lot and I thought it was my only option. I realize my mistake now, and I'm ready to fix it."

Mark started to look a little panicky as Leslie rose her hand. "Les? What are you doing?"

She stared at the ring on her finger, but there were no doubts in her head. She knew, one hundred percent, that she was making the right choice, and she wouldn't regret it. "I'm finally ending this," she said, and she slipped the engagement ring off her finger and held it up to Mark. "I'm finally freeing myself of you."

There were tears in the corners of Mark's eyes, tears that didn't deserve to be there, but maybe she felt kind of good seeing them. But they weren't sad as much as angry, his face contorted and red, and he looked on the edge of something very big. He snatched the ring from her hands and shoved it violently into his pocket. "Screw you, Leslie," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I don't want to marry a whore anyway."

The room froze, and Leslie's ears were blocked off with a sudden ringing. She felt rooted to the spot, her body jerking unkindly. What was that word he just used? Was this really happening?

She felt Ben against her arm, pushing ahead of her. "What did you just say?" Ben asked.

Mark stared right at Ben. "She had an affair with her own boss. That makes a whore—"

Mark never finished his sentence, because Ben's fist had connected with his face.

/

Ben had almost fought Mark one other time before now.

At Andy and April's wedding, he had come very close. He was very drunk then, and very jealous over how he couldn't have Leslie, and Mark was being an asshole. He never actually fought him, but still. He would have. He wanted to.

Ben was not drunk now. And Ben was not missing Leslie, but instead had since become Leslie's boyfriend. But one thing remained the same: Mark was being an asshole. Even worse than ever. He knew exactly what that word meant to Leslie, he had heard very extensive rants and how that word affected women everywhere, and Mark used it on her. He actually called her a whore, when he likely knew exactly the kind of effect it would have on her. So, as opposed to last time, Ben punched Mark in the face.

There was no better time to do it than now.

The second his fist connected to Mark's mouth, he didn't regret it, but his hand sure wasn't thanking him for the action. He immediately felt the snap, his bones crunching with the impact. Mark stumbled backwards and grabbed at his mouth, while Ben clutched his hand to his chest, wincing.

"Oh my god!" Leslie cried, but she didn't run to Mark, kneeling on the floor. No, she came to Ben, to where his fingers felt numb. "Oh my god, babe, that was so hot!"

"Excuse me?!" Mark yelled, muffled under his hand. There was blood peeking between his fingers. "What the hell?"

"Good lord," Ben whispered, feeling very frazzled. "Oh… oh god. Leslie, I'm so sorry—" The thought to punch Mark never even fully occurred to Ben, it sort of just happened. He was so angry over his choice of words and how he was yelling at Leslie and making her feel like a horrible person… and all that pent up rage over all the wrong things Mark had ever done to her, that it just sort of… happened. And, oh god, Leslie had tried to stop Mark from being physical, and then he turned around and did it. "I'm so sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean, I didn't think—"

He was interrupted by the feel of Leslie's lips on his, one hand cupping the back of his neck to fix their height difference, pulling him into her. He gasped at the kiss and could never say no to her, falling into it, but the guilt only stayed at bay for a moment. Why was she kissing him and not berating him?

"Never apologize for that," she told him fiercely as soon as she pulled away. "Ever. I think that was one of the sexiest things you've ever done."

Oh. Well, if that was true, Ben supposed he would have to punch mean jerks for her more often. Especially if it meant she would make out with him afterwards. Even if it nearly broke his hand.

He told her as much. "Um, I think I may have broken my hand."

Her eyes widened. "Oh— my god. Oh no. Do we need to go to the hospital?"

"Go ahead." It was Mark that said the words, finally pulling himself back up, and complete terror ran through Ben's body. Oh god, Mark was definitely going to beat him within an inch of his life and that was why he was suggesting they go ahead to the hospital. He was truly dead meat now, who even cared about his hand? His head wasn't even about to be attached. He gripped Leslie with his free hand and she held him close, as if she were on the exact same wavelength as him.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Mark said, and he was weirdly calm. Scarily calm. "Not physically, at least. Because I can do better than that."

Leslie's lower lip trembled. "What are you talking about?"

Mark shrugged, wiped the blood off his mouth, and adjusted his shirt collar. "Nothing, nothing. You two go to the hospital. I've got important meetings at work today that I'm… very excited to get to. In fact… I think I'll head over to City Hall now."

Mark slammed the bedroom door, and Leslie grabbed Ben's arm in a way that made him wince. "Oh my god, Ben. He's going to tell Chris."

Fear struck Ben's heart as he came to the same conclusion. This… this wasn't good. If Chris heard about Ben and Leslie's relationship from anybody except the two of them, well…

"We have to," he told her. "We have to get dressed and skip the hospital and go right now. We can call Ann on the way. But Leslie… if we don't get to Chris before Mark does… then we're both fired before the end of the day."