Medicine

(Day 27: Friday Evening)

When Ben returns to his dorm he stands in the doorway in paralyzing fear, as he sees Doug sitting on the bed and searching the computer as he holds a bottle of pills in his hand over the opened blue bin. "What are you doing?" Ben finally says as he comes in and slams the door behind himself for privacy.

Doug is speechless, as he looks from the bottle to Ben, "Aziz left it open. So, I just— just—"

Ben strides over and snatches the bottle from him, "So, you went through it?"

Doug looks away at the sound of the anger and the sight of his betrayal, "I just had to know what was going on." He looks back at him. "Ben. Are you— Do you—"

Ben drops the bottle back into the bin and paces the room, "I can't believe this. How much has to go wrong in one day?"

"Ben," Doug starts again, but then Ben punches the wall.

He grips the bottom inch of wall from the hole he had made, as he rests his forehead on the wall. "I'm not on anything."

"I wasn't going to ask if you were," Doug quietly replies.

Ben slowly turns and stares at him, unconvinced, "Really?"

"Are you okay?" He points, "Your hand is bleeding."

"Odd," Ben remarks as he rotates his hand for a good look. "I didn't even feel that."

"You should clean it in the bathroom. You know, to prevent infection."

"Right," Ben agrees, before he goes back over and moves past his bed to reach the bathroom.

When the water turns back off Doug evenly responds, "I'm guessing you've been accused a lot of taking drugs recently."

Ben steps out into the doorway, "It has been a running theme."

"I will admit," Doug confesses, "that with your lack of sleep lately and these emotional outbursts… I was kind of wondering it too."

"But you just said you didn't think I was on anything."

"I mean, yeah," Doug shrugs. "I don't now… even though I would like to know how you punched through that wall."

Ben walks back over to it, examining the hole, supporting planks, and the wall behind those planks. "I just… I'm just a little strong." He turns back around and insists, "You can't tell anyone about this."

Doug looks at him in disbelief, "I'm pretty sure someone is going to figure it out once they see it."

"No," Ben shakes his head, before he goes over to the poster of the periodic table and takes it off of the wall.

"Hey. That's mine. What are you—"

"It's fixed now," Ben interrupts, as he moves to reveal the poster covering the hole.

Doug shakes his head, "Ben. That's not going to change the fact that there's a hole there. What happens at the end of the school year when we move out?"

"Look." Ben takes a step forward, "I promise I'll get someone in here to fix it. Just, please, don't tell anyone."

He almost laughs, "You make it sound like you have something to hide."

"I don't," Ben reassures.

"Really?" Doug questions, before he gestures to the bin. "Then what exactly is all of this?"

Ben eyes the large container, "It's just medicine."

"I mean, yeah," he accepts, "but it's an awful lot of medicine. You've got like three forms of headache medication and a ton of flu and cold stuff." He sees Ben look away. "Is there something I should know about?"

Ben looks back at him, "No. No, there isn't."

Doug places a hand to his forehead, "Ben. I'm your roommate." before he looks up again for answers. "Just tell me what's going on."

Ben shakes his head and goes over to grab his backpack, "That's a hard thing to do when I'm doing absolutely nothing."

"Are you sick?" Ben stops placing the items in his bag. "Oh, my God. Ben."

"I'm fine," he insists as he finishes placing the school supplies in the back pocket, and then he zips it shut. "There's nothing to worry about."

Doug watches as Ben goes off into the bathroom, "You're not packing a bag just because of me, are you?"

"No. Of course, not."

"Then why are you leaving?"

Ben exits the bathroom and sets his blue backpack on the bed, "I'm going to my parents early, but it has nothing to do with you." before he opens the third pocket. "I was already planning on going there. I just know they're going to be worried."

"Why would they be worried?"

Ben grabs a bottle of ibuprofen from the bin and sighs, "Look. I need you to know that I'm really not supposed to talk about this to anyone, and if I tell you then you'd be the second or third person to find out today."

It takes a second for Doug to respond, "I'm your roommate. If anyone has a right to know, it's me." He looks down, "I mean, what happens if something happens to you and I can't help, because I didn't know whatever it is that's going on with you?"

Ben opens the light bottle and shakes his head at the one remaining pill, before he grabs another bottle and adds five pills to the first one. "I've been able to handle it myself this long."

"Uh. Clearly not," Doug refutes. "Not if you're ending up in the nurse's office and having Aziz come get this stuff for you."

Ben places the bottle in the front pocket along with a packet of Alka-Seltzer, before he zips it up and sits down on the bed himself. He sees Doug watching intently, just waiting for answers. He clasps his hands together and looks down at them before nodding, "You're right. I can't keep doing this by myself." He looks back up at him, "But my parents have ordered me not to tell anyone about this."

"Who cares?" Doug infuriates. "You're making decisions for the kingdom— for the whole damn country. If you're old enough to do that, then I think you're old enough to make decisions about your own life."

Ben laughs, "Yeah. That's a really good point."

"Yeah," Doug stresses, "it is. So, why don't you stop avoiding this and just tell me what's going on already."

Ben shifts his seating and offers a serious look, "If I tell you, then you can't tell anyone else. Ever."

Doug glances down at the bin for a second, before he looks at him evenly, "I'll take it to my grave, so long as it doesn't take you to yours."

Ben nods, "Well, first off. You asked why my parents would be worried."

"Yes," Doug recalls. "I did."

"Well," Ben starts. "The reason why they're probably going to be worried is because the last time I spoke to my mom I was in the nurse's office."

"Shouldn't that be a good thing?"

Ben shakes his head, "Um, no. It really isn't." and as the memory invades his mind, it takes him a minute to explain. "What I have… I suppose you can just call it a condition— there's no name for it— but it makes me different in these weird ways."

Doug glances at the wall, "And?"

"And," Ben continues, "only my doctor knows how to handle it." He sadly laughs, "There have been times before where I'd be treated by people who had no clue about me, and… well." He blinks to prevent tears. "Let's just say I'm lucky to even be sitting here right now."

"Wait," Doug shakes his head. "You can't possibly be saying that you've almost died because of a nurse or doctor before."

"Multiple times," Ben informs, before he shakes his head. "It was when I was younger. I had no idea what was going on. I thought everything I was going through was completely normal, and whenever an adult told me to do something or go somewhere I did."

"God," Doug looks at him in shock.

"My parents were always so furious at whoever it was that had me seek treatment." He attempts to smile, "I remember this one time, especially, when I was having a sleepover at Chad's and his mother took me to the doctor."

"Why did she take you to the doctor?" Doug asks, half in confusion and half in interest.

"Well. I have a really high body temperature, and when I tried to explain to her that it's been like that and that my parents knew about it, she didn't even bother to call them." He laughs, "They just took me to the doctor there, and—" He shakes his head. "I was already taking medication to reduce my fever, so when they gave me more medicine I got really sick. Like, vomiting and everything. My stomach just hurt so badly, and I'm pretty sure that was one of the first times in my life that I actually had a headache."

Doug furrows his eyebrows, "They gave you an overdose."

"Yeah." Ben half laughs, "I'm aware of that now."

Doug shakes his head, "I don't believe this."

Ben frowns, "It happened." before glancing down for a moment. "I wouldn't make this kind of thing up."

"No. I know," Doug irritably responds. "What I don't believe is that someone who goes to school specifically for medicine for four to ten years could almost kill a royal."

"It's not their fault," Ben excuses. "They're not trained in this kind of thing."

"It does matter," Doug debates. "If it can happen to you, then that means it could happen to anyone."

"No," Ben shakes his head.

"Ben," he insists.

"No," Ben interrupts. "It's not their fault." He takes a relaxing breath, before the realization hits him and he shakes his head again. "Look." He sees Doug looking just as angry as before, "There just isn't enough funding for everything, and doctors—" He silences for a moment. "Doctors are trained to treat humans, and with how different I am… well, I might as well not even be." He sees his friend's expression even out, "It's not something that could happen to anyone. It just happened to me, because… well. Because I'm different."

- I really want to hear your thoughts on this chapter. What do you think about the doctors not knowing how to treat nonhumans or hybrids? What about Ben's backstory? Anything you have to say, I'd really like to read.