Sloth: this is a pretty depressing chapter as we dig into the mindset of someone who's been conditioned to believe they're the problem. I'm also half tempted to start splitting the story into parts that work better as individual stories. Because half way through this chapter, I kind forgot about Emma. whoops.
Chapter Ten. Because of You
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Storybrooke, November 3th, 2011
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He should have just waited until he got home to listen to his music. Sure, there was the chance that Grampa Moe might be in one of his moods, but Ben had been good the whole week. Even with the mishap with Evie earlier with his bruise, he had been quick to make sure no one else saw it. It had been an accident and Grampa Moe didn't need to get in trouble because he didn't keep up with the older man. So he was confident that his behavior earned some time for music.
But dammit he was just so excited to try out his new headphones.
He had saved up for weeks for them. He saw them on one of his trips to Dark Star Pharmacy. They were a beautiful blue with yellow cords. They had a little volume and playback control attached to the left cord, giving their own the ability to switch songs and change the volume without having to take out their CD player. Which was great because his mother's CD player was kind of big and now he could keep it safe in his jack pocket.
It was worth the purchase, and the sound quality was something out of this world. Kelly Clarkson's voice filled his ears. Despite the slight reverb and echoe, Ben felt relaxed as he listened to the music. The world around him slipped away. His feet moved along with the beat that flooded his ears. He couldn't stop from mouthing the words and for a few short minutes, he forgot his voice didn't work. It was just him and the music.
And then reality hit him across the face.
He had been so engrossed in his music that he didn't even see Mr. Gold until they collided with one another. The flower he was supposed to deliver to the pawn broker was now laying smashed on the ground. And worse of all, Mr. Gold's suit had a big dirt stain on in. He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he just lost another delivery, or that he lost Mr. Gold's delivery.
"You should be more careful, Mr. French," Mr. Gold hissed. As least, that's what Ben assumed. Despite the impact, he never took his headphones off and he was too terrified to do it. His hazel eyes watched with trepidation as Mr. Gold wiped the dirt of his suit. His muscles tensed, waiting for the strike.
"You know, its rude to listen to music when someone's speaking to you."
He pulled the headphones out of his ear so fast, the bounces around a bit and smacked him on the cheek. His fingers started to play with them. The feel of the cool plastic under his fingers were a little calming, but not even that coupled with his familiar feeling of his teeth against his bottom lip could help. He watched. Waited. His eyes kept a look out. Grampa Moe didn't usually drag it out this long.
"Come now, there's no need to bite your lip. It was a simple accident," Mr. Gold told him. He even had a kind smile. Which to be honest was kind of creepy. Mr. Gold never smiled unless he was going to take something.
Oh god, what if he took the truck? Their flower truck was on loan from Gold and while they were good at paying the man on time, Ben was told one screw up and they could kiss the truck goodbye. And no truck meant no business. His eyes started to water at the thought of trying to tell Grampa Moe he just lost them their truck. He felt his chest get tight and suddenly it was getting difficult to breath.
"Ah...Mr. French. There's no need to cry, it was a simple accident."
Why was he so stupid? All he had to do was deliver the stupid flowers. No mess. No fuss. And now he ruined his delivery and pissed off the guy who had all the power in town. His vision got blurry and he wiped at his eyes.
Men don't cry. Men don't cry, Ben. Men don't cry.
"Is everything alright?"
Someone else had arrived and Ben wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. Here is was, a poor excuse of a man, getting gawked at like the idiot he was. Grampa Moe was right. he was always right.
"Everything's fine, Mr. Rodgers."
"It's Deputy Rodger, Mr. Gold."
Oh god, the deputy? Was he going to jail?
"I highly doubt you're currently fit to be doing any form of police work at the moment," Mr. Gold sassed, confusing Ben to what was going on. He needed to focus. It was how he got into this mess in the first place. He needed to get a grip or Grampa Moe really was going to replace him with a monkey.
'Focus, Ben. Focus.' he thought to himself, accentuating each word with a tap to his head. A hand came down on his shoulder and Ben, much to his complete and utter embarrassment, flailed.
His body reacted as naturally as it could to unwanted contact. Only his spacial awareness wasn't all that great. He stepped back off the sidewalk. The change in depth caused him to stumble back until he felt his head connect with the side of the truck. Pain exploded in his head, his vision clouded with white spots. He could here a commotion around him. Arguing. As his vision cleared, he saw Mr. Gold entering his shop as Deputy Rodgers was crouched next to him.
"Are you all right, Lad?"
He was never alright, but he nodded to please the man. Though, nodding caused the back of his head to ache and he flinched instinctively.
"It's alright to say 'no'. You took a pretty hard tumble," the man chuckled. Ben looked at Deputy Rodgers. He didn't know much about the man. Ben never got out much, and any news he heard he heard from his classmates. And all he knew about the deputy was that he was apparently indisposed due to an accident with his hand. It was why his eyes were drawn to the man's missing hand. Where there should be a hand, there was only a stump wrapped in bandages and tucked inside a black strap. He had the whole arm in a sling, as it he just had a sprained arm rather than a missing hand.
When he was caught staring, Ben shamefully looked down at the floor, shrinking down and hoping Rodgers' didn't get angry. He didn't expect Rodgers to chuckle.
"Notice the arm, eh? Word of advice, Lad. Never reach for a boat propeller," the man said with a goodhearted laugh. Ben was taken back. He didn't expect that. Usually he got a cuff to the head for staring.
"Now, Gold might be scary, he's not cruel. He's gone to get a first aid kit. You took quite the fall. He feels really bad about grabbing you, but you gave us a bit of a scare what with you hitting yourself. Is it ok if I examine your head? I promise, I'll just look. No touching, Deal?"
Ben blinked. Was the deputy asking for permission to touch him? The man was officially weird. Still. He was a law officer and that meant he had to obey. So Ben leaned forward a little, his bottom lip once again getting chewed on. As promised, Rodgers didn't touch him once. He just looked. Things must have been good because it took a while before Rodgers gave him the all clear.
"Well good news, yer not bleeding. But it'll leave a bruise. Nothing some ice can't fix."
Ben looked up at the man. He wasn't sure how to react. Rodgers was actually being nice. Most adults either ignored him or gave him a tap upside the head. But Rodgers...It was a little uncomfortable. And Ben wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He didn't have time to dwell on it though as Mr. Gold returned with a first aid kit. There was an ice pack in it. He was offered the aforementioned item and gingerly took it.
"What's that on your wrist?" the pawn broker asked, alarm laced through his words.
Ben pulled back his hand as Gold reached for it. He cursed himself for not covering up better. Never show the bruises, Grampa Moe said. He had screwed up earlier in the week because Mal had grabbed him to hand him an invite to Evie's party. He didn't blame her. If he had just accepted the invite, she wouldn't have to get forceful. He tried wearing longer sleeve, but apparently that didn't work either. God, Grampa Moe was going to hate him.
He got up. Mr. Gold was the last stop on his route for the day. He could just head home now and just lay down in his bed.
"Ah, Benjamin."
"Careful, Lad. Steady."
He swayed, the distance between the floor and his feet seeming to change every second. After getting his barings, he offered the ice pack back to Mr. Gold.
"That's not necessary. You'll be needing it."
"Aye. You're in no condition to be going anywhere yet. I can't in good conscience let you drive either," Rodgers told him.
Ben looked between the two men. They didn't seem to want him going anywhere. And Rodgers was an officer of the law while Gold...well he was Gold. A kid like Ben was nothing to them. Defeated, Ben sat back down, placing the ice pack back on his head. Sitting there on the floor, he was only briefly aware of the two men's conversation.
From the sound of it, Gold wanted Rodgers to leave and it made him nervous. His back pressed against the truck, praying Gold wouldn't take it for the damaged flowers.
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"Peace offering?"
Emma turned at the new voice. She was still getting used to Storybrooke and it wasn't uncommon for someone new to come up to her. What startled her though, was the fact the voice came from within the Sheriff Station. While yes, she was still getting used to her new job, she had grown accustomed to everything in the station.
Everything that is except the dark haired guy in leather who was holding a box of donuts to her.
"Uh thanks...?"
"I see Graham hasn't spoken of me. I'm actually hurt."
Suddenly it clicked. As he sauntered over to the desk opposite her's, Emma made a mental check of everything Graham had told her of the other deputy. A love of black leather? Check. Sauntering like he owns the place? Check. Thick Irish accent? Check. Missing hand? Unfortunately, check. "Oh yeah. Your Eugene."
"Yes I'm - wait what?"
"Eugene? Unless there's another Irish deputy missing a hand," Emma snickered.
"Bloody hell. Did he actually give you my real name?" he huffed as he leaned back in his chair like an upset teenager. Emma just laughed.
"What? Like Finn is better? So, why the donuts?"
Rodgers mumbled something under his breath about getting back and Graham and Emma was very tempted to see where it would go. She wasn't used to having co-workers, but Graham was nice and Rodgers didn't come off as a jackass, so bonus. Still, now that she was actually face-to-face with the man she was covering for, she might as well pick his brain.
"Well, I thought I'd formerly meet the newest addition to the force," he said. Suddenly Emma felt guarded. In just one moment, Rodgers had gone from slouching in his chair, to sitting up straight. His posture rigid, guarded yet judgmental. He had become this haunting raven that stared her down from across the table.
But Emma Swan didn't back down just because someone was judging her. She returned the gesture, staring him down, daring him to say anything bad about her. They stared at each other in silence for only a few minutes.
"I think Graham picked a good one," he smirked and he slouched in his chair like a bratty teenager. Emma wasn't sure if she was impressed or annoyed now. "Speaking of our intrepid leader, where is Humbert?"
"Oh please tell me that's his first name."
"Last name, sadly."
"Shame. Graham's picking up his nephew from his mathletes thing," Emma replied as she popped open the box and grabbed the single bear claw within.
"Was that today? Well, Harry's a smart lad. They'll probably get first place this year."
"Why do you need Graham, anyways? Aren't you supposed to be on paid leave for another week?" Emma asked through a mouthful of fried doughey goodness.
"Aye. But..." he paused, chewing briefly on his index finger. Emma thought he was going to keep his thoughts to himself, but Rodgers seemed too eager to talk. She inched forward, a gesture telling him to go one. If they were going to be working together, then they might as well start trusting each other now.
"I was on my way to get the donuts when I ran into a curious scene at Gold's."
"Why am I not surprised Gold's involved?"
"No love for the vulture?"
"Not particularly," Emma replied. The memory of Gold's underhand, and just downright disgusting deal with Ashley lingering in the back of her mind.
"Well, its not Gold I'm concerned about." Now Emma was even more curious. "Do you know who Benjamin French is?"
Emma searched her memory. Unfortunately she couldn't say she remember a face to go with the name.
"Well, Swan, it's lucky day. Because I think we might have a child abuse case on our hands."
The serious Rodgers returned, his eyes piercing cold and determined. Suddenly the bear claw tasted stale.
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"You stay in there and think about what you've done!"
His back hit the closet wall and his head bounced against it. The force was enough to get a frail, strangled squeak from Ben. If he thought his head hurt before, it hurt worse now. Men don't cry, he repeated to himself as he rolled onto his stomach.
The door slammed in his face, literal inches from smacking into his nose. Even in the darkness that encapsulated him, his vision blurred from the tears that threatened to spill. Men don't cry. Men don't cry.
And yet...
He drew his knees to his chest, wrapping them tight with his frail arms. He knew Grampa Moe did this because he cared. He cared enough to teach Ben that his actions have consequences and when you screw up like he did today, a two nights in the dark room wasn't so bad, right? It...It was just unfair because he had been so good all week.
Sniffing, Ben wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He sat in the silence, the creeks and groans of the house answering his silence questions. When he couldn't hear Grampa Moe anywhere near him, Ben fished out his headphones. As the melody filled his ears, Ben laid down on his side.
Men don't cry he thought as he cried himself to sleep.