I Love You Too

(Day 91: Saturday Evening)

Ben looks around the brightly lit room as he sits on the end of the tall bed, glancing over his parents before looking at the brown haired doctor. He hears thuds and clanks of metal, but he can't see what the doctor is doing. Ben watches his mother smile and his father breathe with relief, before he sees the doctor turn around with a weirdly shaped object. He walks towards him, saying something in English, and Ben leans back in fright, "What is that?"

When the doctor look towards his parents Ben follows his eyes, and then his mother informs, "It's a stapler to stitch up the wound on your head." Ben eyes over the floor as he looks back to the doctor, and he nods before facing forward at his parents. He feels the pinching, but his eyes wander towards the hallway. People keep looking in as they walk past, and he hears the clicking sound of the photo the girl takes before the door shuts. Ben sees his father standing next to it, and their eyes meet briefly before Ben eyes off towards the plastic cylinders near the sink. There's cotton balls, sticks, and swabs, and when he looks at the other side of the sink he sees the hand sanitizer machine on the wall before the doctor blocks his view and says something.

Ben looks at his mother, "Can we go home now?" and she offers an unsure look before eyeing up at the doctor. He hears the incompressible words again and lets out an annoyed breath, before the man steps in front of him and flashes a small light into his eyes. Ben squints and bears his teeth, until the light goes away and the doctor holds a finger up in front of him. It moves to the left, the right, up, and then down, before he holds up a couple fingers and says something. "Many?" Ben repeats with furrowed brows, and the doctor speaks a sentence very similar to the one before. It takes Ben a moment to realize, "Two." and then the fingers switch and he lets out a relaxing breath at his stupidity. "Five." The fingers switch again, and it takes him a minute to search for the English word, "Eight?" Ben watches the doctor turn to his parents, before his mother nods with a frown.

After the doctor leaves Ben sees his mother stand, and he stands from the bed before heading out the door; however, it's then he feels his mother's hand on his right shoulder, and when he turns around his slight smile slips as he sees her frown. "Where are you going?"

Ben glances towards his right and sees the glass doors past the lobby, before he unsurely comments to her, "Are we not going home?"

She slowly shakes her head, "Not yet." before she attempts to smile. "The doctor wanted us to get an x-ray for your shoulder. Remember?"

He sees that her warm brown eyes have somehow turned to that of watery mud puddles, "Right." and he looks away for a moment. "Where would that be?"

"Just follow me," she says, before she turns around, begins walking with his father, and he follows closely behind her. The room they enter is also secluded, and after the woman in the lab coat addresses him with a smile he attempts to smile back with a nod; however, her next sentence doesn't make any sense and he frowns again. "Ben," he hears his mother and looks towards her. "Your jacket." Ben looks forward again and touches the collar of his jacket, before he sees the table with the hovering machine. He unbuttons it and takes it off. "I can hold onto it for you." Ben turns back around to hand the coat to his mother, and she folds it over her arm before he looks back and walks toward the table. There's something under it, and it seems to connect to the device hovering above.

He hears the woman say something and looks back at her, "Pardon?"

"Lay down," she says, and after a moment he moves to lay his back down on the table. It's cold, but it's nice. Except for his head: he readjusts it so the sore spot doesn't lay on the hard surface, but at the sight of his father he looks back up at the square head of the machine. It's like a giraffe with its long, metal neck running down to the table. That means the table is its back. Ben is currently lying on a giraffe's back, and the table has legs. That means the giraffe as legs. He hums. It really is a giraffe. "Stay still."

Ben watches as the woman moves the giraffe's head over his chest and shoulders, and the bright light stays there for a set of clicks and then another set. The doctor turns her head, and he notices the black, tied up hair. He smiles at the messiness of the curls. It's like Mal's hair. The woman moves the giraffe's head parallel to the table, and Ben frowns as she says something. He watches her walk away and then stands, before he watches her talk to his parents. His mother nods with a smile, before she looks at him, "Come on, Ben."

After Ben walks towards them they leave the room, but when they make it back to that first hallway he frowns at the sight of them entering the first room again. He lets out a breath before walking in, and when he notices the seat next to the desk has been left open he looks at his father who merely nods down to it. Ben takes it and turns towards the chair next to him, facing his mother, "How much longer are we going to be here for?"

"We need to wait to see how serious your shoulder injury is, and in the meantime you will be checked for a concussion."

Ben eyes away for a second, "I thought I was already checked for a concussion."

"Well, yes," she thinks, "but because you were showing signs of having one, they wanted to go more in-depth. Remember?"

Ben looks away towards the desk, mumbling, "No." before he reaches for the wallet in his pocket and stands.

She sees him walk to the door, "Where are you going?"

"I'm thirsty," he frowns. "I wanted to get a drink."

She stands up, "Well, at least let me get the blood out of your hair." before she takes a wipe from her purse and cleans the back of his head. "You don't need to be walking around like this." She stops, and Ben turns to see her toss the wipe into the trash.

"Can I go now?"

She faces him, "Just be quick. The nurse could be here any moment."

Ben furrows his eyes at the word, before he abruptly leaves the room and heads down the hall to the vending machine. All of these doctors, and what? None of them was a nurse? He takes the wallet out and puts five dollars into the machine. He takes out the first Diet Coke and snaps it open, before he hears the sizzling bubbles and brings it to his mouth. He takes in a deep breath, but it quickly escapes before he brings the can to his mouth again. It's cold and crisp, and before he knows it the can is empty. Ben shakes the can, before he crushes it and tosses it into the recycling bin before going to grab the second one.

After he gets back into the room and sits in his seat his mother comments, "A soda? I thought you said you were thirsty. That's going to dehydrate you."

Ben glances at her, his eyes shifting, before he turns back to the soda on the desk and opens it. He smiles and takes a drink, before he rationalizes, "Well. I wanted a soda, so I got a soda and I'm having a soda."

"It can't be good for the healing process," she worries, but he doesn't even look at her. He just takes another drink, and he notices his father in his peripheral vision about to speak; however, before he can the door opens and Ben sees the blond nurse. She says something long and incomprehensible, so Ben goes for his drink again. She sits down and smiles as she talks to him. Her teeth are abnormally white, and he notices her pink lips sparkle. Are nurses even able to wear makeup? It must be Chapstick, he decides, before she stops speaking.

Ben turns back to his mother, "Where's Nurse Sinclair? We always get Sinclair."

"This is the Emergency Room," she frowns. "We get whoever is available."

He turns back to the now frowning nurse, and it takes him a minute to find the words, "What you said?" She offers a curious expression before starting to talk again, but he's no more able to understand her than the first time.

"Well. Go on. Answer her," his father prompts.

His mouth gapes as he narrows his eyes at him, "You can just fucking leave."

"Ben," his mother furiously whispers in disbelief.

Ben turns to her, gesturing at his father, "He's why I'm even here in the first place."

When she looks at Adam he frustrates, "I reached out for you. I tried to save you."

"I don't care," Ben shouts, "and I don't care that you didn't lay a hand on me. As far as I'm concerned, you might as well have pushed me down those stairs."

"How could you think that?" he breathes, and Ben notices the tears intrude his eyes. "After everything I've done for you— for this family." He shakes his head, "Don't you dare say I wasn't there for you."

"You're the reason I needed help in the first place," Ben exasperates, and before his father can retaliate his mother speaks up.

She quietly states, "Adam." and waits for him to look at her. "Maybe you should go home. It's getting late, and I can handle it from here."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he disagrees.

It takes her a moment to say, "You'll know where I am. It's not like I'm going anywhere." and her eyes shift. "You should know that by now."

He looks at her for a moment, "I didn't do anything."

"I know," she reassures, "but it's been a long, stressful night, and you have to be able to take care of yourself too."

He nods, "I love you." before eyeing between her and Ben. "Both of you."

She tries to smile, "I know." and then he stares at Ben.

Ben repeats, "I know." but his father still doesn't go.

"I love you," he says again.

Ben nearly rolls his eyes, "Yeah." before he frowns at his father. "I love you too."

His father nods with a relaxing breath before he exits the room, and Ben turns towards the nurse when she says something. His mother answers, and he looks between the two until the nurse talks again. He still can't understand her. He needs a drink. He reaches for the soda and brings to it his mouth, because after everything that's happened he just needs to take in that calming taste; however, soon it empties and he clanks it down onto the desk. He hears the nurse ask a question, and he brings a hand to his forehead as he looks away. It's quiet for a split second, but then she starts speaking again and Ben widens his eyes at her, "Would you just shut up already?"

"Honey," his mother tries to reason.

He swiftly turns towards her, "No! I can't even understand a word she's saying."

"What do you mean, you can't understand a word she's saying?" she quietly inquires.

Ben wets his lips, "I understand some words. It's just the sentences. The sentences make no sense."

"What? Just because she's speaking English?" his mother questions, and Ben looks away from her as he feels the tears intrude his eyes. "Is that why you wanted Sinclair?" He turns back to her, only offering a pained look. "I don't understand. You're speaking French just fine."

"Well, I learned French before grade school, didn't I?" he retorts with disdain, before he shakes his head, breathing heavily as the tears fall. "I was just speaking fluent English this afternoon. How could this be happening to me?" He hears the nurse ask something, and Ben watches as his mother hesitantly responds. He looks back at the nurse and watches as she finds a file folder, before she takes out a stapled group of papers and places it in front of him. He looks over the English words, and after a moment he sees a hand fold a couple of the papers over to the back to reveal the French assessment. He lets out a relaxing breath, and as he notices a pencil get set in front of him he hears her say the word circle. Ben glances up at her for a moment, before looks back down to eye over the questions and picks up the pencil to circle the answers.

- So, the thing about my father is that when he calls me when the call is ending he will say that he loves me, and he doesn't let me hang up until I say I love him too... Love was always one of those words I didn't want to say if I didn't mean it, and with everything he's put me through I'm finding that word to have less value all of the time. If I get into a committed relationship one day, then maybe I can say it in a different language to give it the illusion of having meaning; however, the concept of saying something just because it's sociably correct has ruined a lot of words for me. Like sorry. When my mother says sorry for something, it literally means nothing because there's times when she uses it just to end an argument or attempt to make someone feel better. Like hugs. I hate hugs, but she insists they're healing. So, there's times when she hugs me when I'm upset, and then she acts like whatever problem there was no longer exists. Seriously, one time I was trying to settle something with her to make sure it didn't happen again, and after she hugged me I still wanted to solve the problem. She got mad and said I just wanted to argue. But, no. I'm pretty sure she's the one that wants to get into an argument, because if she didn't then she wouldn't be telling me on a weekly basis that I'm going to get attacked or raped or killed for walking in town and then on just about a daily basis tell me that I have no independence at all (which gets to the point of me thinking that if I'm going to die, then just let me die already. The more she tells me I'm going to die, the less I care if I do). She wonders why I'm not productive, when she counters that unproductiveness with the concept of her dying and questioning what I would do if she did. It's like, seriously? If I'm going to die, if she's going to die, then what's the point? What's the point in being productive? What's the point at all? For anything? I know this is technically abusive behavior, probably, but she's mentally ill and she's doing it because she loves me... So, it's not her fault. It's mine. It's always just mine... which leads us into our next chapter.