Suicide Watch

(Day 15: Sunday Night)

"I know you probably don't want an apology," Belle says as she shifts through the clothes in the closet, "but I really must apologize for what my husband said earlier."

"It's fine," Mal tiredly responds. "He didn't ask anything anyone else hasn't… I just wasn't expecting one of my boyfriend's parents to say something like that to me."

"He's a very stubborn man, and he really doesn't like to be wrong," Belle tells her. "You made a greater impact on him than you know."

"I guess that's good," Mal quietly responds. "But I'm pretty stubborn too, and yet I haven't ever asked anyone why they looked a certain way."

Belle laughs, "No one is as stubborn as Adam… You know, he didn't even tell me what his name was until after he returned to his human form?"

Mal laughs in shock, "How? What were you supposed to call him by, then?"

"That's what I asked him." She sighs, "I remember his answer like it was yesterday." She smiles warmly at her. "He said a lot of people just call him a beast, so to just stick with that."

"So," Mal questions, "while all of that love was building up to break the curse, you didn't even know his name during that entire time?"

"Something as simple as a name doesn't matter when it comes to love. All you need to love someone is to understand them and know who they are as a person… along with being compatible, of course."

I'm telling you, you're going to like it. No. Mal pulls his hand out of her shirt. I don't want to do this. He bares his gritted teeth in a smile, before he forces her hands above her head and holds them there with his hook. I get it. You're shy, but you'll thank me for this later. He runs his hand down her cheek. Come on, Purple. Just imagine how much heat you'll be able to get from me like this. "No. I said no," Mal shuts her eyes as she mouths the words.

"Are you okay?"

Mal opens her eyes and tries to smile, "Yeah. It's just—" She gestures, "You were right. A name doesn't mean anything if you don't know who the person really is."

"Anything you'd like to talk about?" she offers.

Mal laughs, "No. No. I'm fine. Really."

"Okay, then," Belle frowns with concern, before she looks over the items in her hands. "These should fit you, and I don't think grey or black will clash with anything."

Mal takes the light grey, shoulder hanging sweater and the black sweatpants, "Thanks."

Belle smiles, "No problem." before she shuts the closet doors. "Now, for your room." When they step into the hallway she comments, "I know you're technically just a guest, but I think I'll have you stay in the west wing closer to us." They walk down the hallway and stop in front of a door, but just as Belle's about to open it she pulls her hand away. "You know. I think I'm just going to look around it first and make sure everything is suitable for you."

Mal sees her unsureness, "You have servants."

"Yes," Belle strains a smile. "I'd just like to check a couple things first, though." She places her hand on the doorknob, "Please. Just wait here. I'll only be a moment."

Mal frowns as she watches Ben's mother scoot through the opening, before she shakes her head and takes out her phone. There's five text messages from Evie and two from Jay. She opens up Jay's first, figuring it should be simple or meaningless. (1) I heard what happened. I'm here if you want to vent. (2) Evie is really worried about you. I thought I'd let you know… Mal lets out a long breath as she goes back to see Evie's messages. (1) I just saw the news article. Where are you? (2) The guys don't know where you are either. Please tell me you're okay. (3) Ben skipped practice. Are you with him? (4) … I'm sorry that I couldn't be there for you. If you get this message please text me back. If not then… please. Just answer me. I love you.

Mal places a hand to her forehead. What kind of friend doesn't bother to check their phone for a full day and on a day when people will clearly be worried about you? She taps on the message box, but looking at the prior messages, she has no idea what to say. It takes her a minute to begin, "I'm fine Evie. Yes, I'm at Ben's, and I won't be able to come home tonight… His mother insisted that I should stay. Thanks for your concern. But really, I'm fine."

When Belle comes out Mal looks up from her phone and sees her holding a big bag. "What is all of that?"

"Oh. You know," Belle laughs. "Just some unnecessary clutter."

"Clutter?" Mal repeats.

"Very unnecessary items," she insists. "You won't miss them."

"Right," Mal unsurely replies, before her cellphone dings.

"Oh. Are you texting someone?" Belle asks.

Mal smiles, "Just my best friend." and when Ben's mother lifts her head to peer over the screen Mal brings it closer to herself. "Which is still very private."

"Yes. Of course," she smiles. "Sorry for being nosy. But your room is ready now, so you can enter it any time you like."

Mal tries to smile back, "Thank you very much." and when she finally leaves she checks her phone again. There's a new text from Evie. (1) I hope you're doing well. Have a nice night, then. I love you. Sleep well. Mal whispers as she texts, "Yeah. You too." and then she proceeds to walk into the room. Whatever Ben's mother had taken, it certainly wasn't any of the valuables. That lamp alone must cost a fortune. She sets her phone on the bedside table and continues on into the bathroom, setting the clean clothes on the counter before turning the hot water on in the tub.

When she looks into the mirror she knows no one would have guessed that she'd just cried at the dinner table. Sure, there are still water marks, but the good thing about being a cold-blooded creature is that the constantly low body temperature keeps you from looking flushed. Until I take this bath, after which it will either be a tossup of people accusing me of blushing or complementing me on my health… Really don't know which is worse. She opens the cabinet mirrors and finds some deodorant, a brush with ponytails on it, lotion, and shaving cream. But for some reason no razors. Huh. I wonder how that happened. She rolls her eyes before seeing the pills on the top shelf. And yet, she left the ibuprofen. How nice of her. Mal shuts the cabinet and is forced to face herself, as she's met with the mirrors. She knows she said and did a lot of horrible things tonight, but she couldn't have predicted this would happen. It's not like I could have known to bring my own. So, it will just have to wait until after she returns back to her dorm.

"I'm baaack," Mal hears her mother's cackling laugh, before she sits straight up in bed and frantically looks around the room; however, no one is there. She takes a minute to catch her breath, before she sees the clock reads 1 A.M. She shakes her head and pulls out her phone before texting Evie. I'm not going to school tomorrow. Check on my mom in the morning for me. One square of beef jerky should be fine. Make sure to turn her heat lamp back on. Mal looks at the clock again. Going back to sleep won't be of any use. She has to get up, so after going to the bathroom and brushing her hair she heads for the door.

"Miss Mal?"

Mal turns to the blond guard, "Yes."

"It's late. Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"No, actually," Mal realizes. "I just couldn't sleep." She shakes her head, "Why are you outside my door?"

"Her Majesty stationed me here to keep an eye on you and keep you safe."

Mal almost rolls her eyes, "Did she tell you why?"

"No, miss," he shakes his head. "I can only assume she thought I'd be able to do my job without sharing any of the details."

"Wow. How perfect," Mal sarcastically comments as she looks down the hallway. "I was going to take a walk and maybe look around a little. I assume you'll be joining me?"

"Yes, miss. May I suggest a tour?"

"Under one condition," Mal states. "What do I call you?"

He smiles, "Louie, if you must."

"Okay, then," Mal begins to walk. "What's down this way?"

There's a knock at the door, and Mal groans before getting up to answer it. Ben smiles, "Hey. Did you sleep well?"

Mal tiredly shuts her eyes and places a hand to her head, "What time is it?"

"It's 9 A.M. I heard you went on a little tour of the castle last night, so I let you sleep in for a couple hours."

She shakes her head, "If you knew I didn't sleep well, then why did you ask me?"

He smiles, "Common courtesy. My apologies."

"My apologies," Mal laughs. "Maybe we could drop the formalities and just… what exactly are our plans for today?"

"There's a few hours before lunch. How about we fit a movie in?"

Mal nods, "Sound like a great idea." before she sees the guard a few feet away from them. "He's not going to be there, is he?"

Ben offers a questioning look, "Why would he be?"

Mal looks away for a second, "They were ordered to, and I quote, keep an eye on me and keep me safe." Ben doesn't speak. "I also looked in the bathroom cabinet last night, but there weren't any razors. I'm pretty sure your mother had me put on suicide watch."

It takes a moment for Ben to respond, "I didn't know."

Mal tensely laughs, "It's like the moment I express any emotion at all, suddenly everyone just gets super worried about me. It isn't right."

"Well," Ben retorts, "you did say some very… shocking things during dinner. I'm sure she had nothing but good intent when she did that."

"Still. I wasn't going to do anything."

"Hey. Look." He places his hands on her shoulders, "If my mother really did as you claim, then it just means she cares about you." He smiles, "Which is a welcome change, considering she nearly fainted at the prospect of you all coming here, quite literally." Mal doesn't speak, but her sad eyes say everything. "But I'll talk to her. Okay?"

Mal attempts to smile, "Okay." and then Ben kisses her on the forehead.

"Go to the living room. I will meet you there shortly." He nods with a smile, before he steps back and turns to leave. He walks through the dining room, goes down the staircase to check the sitting area, before he walks down the hallway to the library. His mother sits comfortably in an armchair reading a French book. "I should have known you'd be here."

She looks up at him, "Oh. Ben." and keeps her finger where she'd left off. "Do you want to talk to me about something?"

He steps into the room, "Mal is under the impression that you had her on suicide watch last night."

"Smart girl."

"So, it's true?" Ben furiously questions.

"You heard how she was talking," his mother reasons. "What was I supposed to do, just let the poor girl go back to school as if it never happened, possibly even leading her to make some irreversible decision everyone would regret?"

It takes a moment for Ben to evenly respond, "You could have at least told me— told us. She deserved to hear it from you, not by finding out there weren't any razors in the bathroom last night."

"She was looking for razors last night?" his mother questions.

"Well, yeah." He sees her expression, "What's so odd about that?"

"Ben." She hesitates, "Could you sit down for a minute."

Ben walks closer and sits on the footstool, "What is it?"

His mother marks the page and sets the book aside, before she folds her hands, "I'd like us to play a little game."

Ben frowns, "Which game?"

"The game is Tear Apart the Sentence, and the sentence is 'Mal was looking for a razor last night'. Can you tell me three flaws in that sentence?"

Ben shakes his head, "I don't understand. She was going to take a bath. She must have just wanted to shave her legs or something."

His mother nods but fails to smile, "I'll give you a hint. The clothes I gave her had pant legs and sleeves."

"You're wondering why she would have needed to shave in the first place," Ben realizes.

"Second hint," she continues on. "When do most people shave?"

"In the morning," Ben answers before letting out a small breath. "And not at night."

"Now," his mother recognizes, "there's a chance that she might have just wanted to impress you, but were you planning on seeing her last night?"

Ben shakes his head and almost laughs, "No."

"Now, then." She quietly asks, "Can you tell me what the third flaw in the sentence is?"

"If she really wasn't going to use the razor for shaving, then what would she have needed it for?" Ben shakes his head, "I can't believe this."

"It's hard," his mother nods, "but I'm not going to tell you how to handle this. You know her best. Whether you tell her about your suspicions or not is up to you."

"This is supposed to be a stress-free day," Ben acknowledges. "If I ask her what she was really planning on doing with that razor, then she could think that I see her as weak or that she's somehow failed us. She may even break down and cry." He looks up at his mother and shakes his head, "No. I'm not going to tell her, at least not today."

- I don't know about all of you, but I would get really sick of being taught through games during serious situations very quickly.