I May Know That, but I Don't Believe It

(Day 91: Saturday Night)

"Ben," Mal worries as she walks into his hospital room, and when she sits next to Belle she notices the sling for Ben's left arm, "What happened? Are you okay?" He stares at her for a moment, before he says something in French to his mother and she responds. Mal eyes between them, "What's going on?"

They look back at her, before Belle cautiously explains, "Mal." She pauses, "He has a concussion. He can't speak to you right now."

"What do you mean, he can't talk to me?" she disbelieves.

Belle takes a moment, "A concussion can cause slow response and memory loss. I don't know precisely why, but… he's having a hard time with English right now."

"Memory loss?" She tears up and hysterically laughs, "Forgetting an entire language is not memory loss."

"I know this must be hard for you," she sympathizes.

"No," Mal interrupts. "What's hard is having a conversation with your family and not knowing what the hell is going on. This—" Her eyebrows furrow as she slightly shakes her head, "How am I supposed to be able to spend time with him if I can't even ask when?"

"Concussions are temporary," she reassures. "All he needs is some rest."

Mal's eyes shift, "How did it happen?"

It takes a minute for Belle to say, "It appears he fell down the stairs."

"Fell?" Mal skeptically responds. "How exactly did he fall?"

She shakes her head, "I don't know all of the details."

"Can't you ask?" Mal persists.

"There's no need to bother him with that right now," Belle reasons, and then Mal sighs. "It's really important that his mind rests."

"How long?"

Belle offers an inquiring look, "What?"

"You said concussions are temporary," Mal hurries on. "How long is temporary?"

She glances down, "We think that he may have lost consciousness after the fall." before she faces her. "The doctors say that if that's the case, then it could last a couple weeks." Belle watches her look towards the ceiling, "But that doesn't mean that it will be this bad for that long." before Mal places a hand to her head. "He could be talking to you in basic English in just a matter of days."

Mal observes Ben's frown, the IV running from his arm to a bag of clear liquid, and the blue sling, "Just not today." before she stands from the chair to leave; however, she feels a hand grab hers, and when she turns around he's leaning forward.

His eyes shift before he says, "Stay." and Mal releases a breath before sitting back down. He leans back on the inclined bed and partially smiles at her, "Je t'aime." Mal laughs through a sad breath, before she shuts her eyes to his kiss hand and the tears run down her face.

When Evie sees Mal come back into the dorm she asks, "Hey. How's Ben?"

"I don't know," she painfully grins, and then Evie stands from the sewing machine. "There's something wrong with his arm, and he has a concussion." She starts to cry again, "But no one's telling me anything. Everyone's just speaking stupid French, and…" Evie walks up to her as Mal places a hand to her mouth, "Ben can't speak English."

"What are you talking about?" Evie questions. "He takes Pre-College English with me."

"His mother says it's temporary," Mal uneasily breathes, "but what if it isn't? I mean, how does someone forget an entire language?"

"Hey," Evie hugs her. "It's going to be okay." She clutches at the back of Evie's hair as she sobs. "It's going to be okay." Evie remembers what Ben had said, "We just have to believe."

The next morning when Evie hears her phone go off she takes it from the bedside table, smiling at the picture icon before accepting, "Hi, Ben."

He frowns, "Is Mal there?"

"Yeah," she answers before turning over to tap Mal on the shoulder. "Little dragon, Ben's here for you."

Mal turns over with squinted eyes, "Ben?" as she sees him on the phone.

He has furrowed brows, "You're in bed. With her."

"It's not like that," Mal starts to defend.

"Yeah," Evie starts to explain, pulling the phone back enough to get them both into frame. "Mal was just really upset last night because she was worried about you, and I talked with her until she fell asleep. We didn't even do anything."

Ben eyes between them, before he looks at Mal, "You were upset. Are you okay now?"

"I don't know," she unsurely replies. "Are you?"

"Better," he frowns, before he attempts to smile, "Didn't know what a spoon was that morning, so that was fun."

"This," Evie corrects.

"Pardon?" Ben inquires.

"You said that morning," Evie explains, "but wouldn't it have been this morning?"

When Ben doesn't speak Mal mentions, "So. Your arm."

He glances at the sling, "Right." before he looks back at them. "My shoulder. It's—" His eyes shift, "It's not broken. That's not it."

"Fractured?" Mal suggests.

Ben's frown deepens, "Maybe." and then he changes the subject. "So, your plans today?"

"I was thinking we would watch some movies," Evie turns to Mal, before she looks back at Ben, "Unless, of course, you want to see Mal in person in which case—"

"Evie," Ben loudly interrupts in frustration, before he slowly comments, "You're talking way too fast. And long. Stop it."

Evie frowns, "Sorry." before she turns to Mal. "Let me know how it goes."

After Evie leaves the frame Ben sighs, "Sorry."

"Are you really better?" Mal inquires, and Ben glances down, failing to speak. "If you can't talk…" He looks back at her. "Your mother said it's… just for now."

Ben wets his lips, "Can you text?"

"I know how."

He nods, "There's languages. Click it and it changes."

"Okay," Mal unsurely responds.

"I won't answer right away," he warns her. "I still have to… rest." She nods in understanding. "I have to go now." He smiles, "I love you."

She smiles back, "It was nice talking to you."

Ben nods before ending the call, and he looks up as his mother enters the room. "Was that Mal?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Maybe."

"You shouldn't be straining yourself," she concerns, before she sits by him in the chair.

He takes a stressed breath, "I know, but as much as I love your company, my friends need to know I'm okay. All they know is that there's pictures of me in the ER." He watches her look away from him. "What is it?"

She looks back at him, "There's reporters outside the hospital. They're asking for you." He frowns with a slight nod. "You know you can't speak to them. Your English can be taken out of context without the right words, and if your French gets translated—"

"It could be translated wrong," he finishes. "I know." He shakes his head, "Not that I can say anything anyway."

She hesitates, "What do you remember?"

"I was talking with father." He remembers his father clearly, but the words he had spoken are inaudible. "It was something about the council meeting, I think, but I don't remember." He stares past her, "He just kept coming closer and closer, and… like an idiot I just stood there." He shakes his head. "I could have walked back down the stairs. I mean, how hard would that have been, just to walk down the stairs?"

She eyes down for a moment, "I thought I heard something." and when she looks back up he can see the tears in her eyes. "In the kitchen, I thought I heard something, but the kettle was on and—"

"Mother," Ben softly interrupts. "This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it?" she questions. "It's not like I was out working. My job is to take care of this family: to calm your father and to keep you safe, but when you needed me I wasn't there."

"Mom," Ben begins, before he makes a noise in hesitation. "I know you don't want to hear this, but Father is going to be unwell whether you're there to help him or not." He looks into her eyes, "And honestly, I would rather have me fall down the stairs and get a cracked shoulder, rather than have you get involved, get knocked over the railing, and… not survive."

The tears fall to her cheeks, "You're my child. I should be keeping you safe."

"And you have been," Ben reassures, "in the best way you know how." He glances down, "I may not always feel like you care about me, but I know you do." He nods, "You love me. I know that." before he reaches for her hand and squeezes it. "I love you too."

She nearly smiles, but then she eyes down for a second, unable to keep herself from mentioning, "You know. This isn't entirely your Father's fault either." Ben rolls his eyes, before letting out a breath. "He's—"

"Ill," Ben finishes. "Yes. I know." He shakes his head and lets go of her hand, "Mother." He wets his lips, "If you really think father is ill, then shouldn't we bring in a professional?"

"He would never allow that," she whispers.

"Yeah. Because, he's paranoid," Ben irritably responds. "Is that part of the illness or is that just from being abandoned as a kid? Is he even really ill at all or is it just environmental? How are we supposed to know any of this, unless we ask for help?"

She evenly responds, "Honey. By now, I think you're well aware that he isn't in his right mind when he does these things. If he were, he wouldn't always be so regretful."

"He's not always regretful," Ben disputes. "Half of the time he just moves on like nothing ever happened."

"Because he's ashamed," she lets him know, before she takes his hand and he looks down at it. "Your father loves you. You have to know that."

Ben looks back at her, and it takes him a minute to find the words, "Just because I know he loves me, that does not mean I believe it."

She shuts her eyes and breathes, "Ben."

"True love is putting another's needs above yours," he interrupts. "Like how Audrey's father faced off with Maleficent to save Aurora, like when William captured the Evil Queen to find Snow White, and how Elsa was able to save herself by sacrificing her life for her sister's." He widens his eyes at her, "That's what true love is, Mother, so tell me now: when did Father ever put your needs before his?"

"How about when he let me go to save my father, even though it meant I would no longer be around to potentially break his curse," she immediately answers. "And need I remind you that something as rare and unprecedented as true love was not a requirement to break his curse? All he needed was old-fashioned love, a bond born out of the sheer intense connection with another."

"Unless the sorceress really meant true love," Ben argues, "and that's why the curse broke improperly."

"And whatever makes you think the curse broke improperly?" she half laughs in disbelief.

"How else could I be exhibiting signs of being a hybrid?" Ben points out.

"Have you been exhibiting signs?" she calmly asks.

"I don't know," Ben loudly states with furrowed brows. "You tell me."

She watches him take his hand from hers to bring it to his forehead, "Honey. Where is all of this coming from?"

He lets out a long breath before looking back at her with wide eyes, "There's a way for Father to be discreetly examined. You know there is."

She observes him for a moment, "Ben. I want to know what's wrong with your father as much as you do, but bringing a new person into this isn't going to help with his stress. At least when you're sick we have a family doctor for that, but we don't have a psychologist."

"I'm pretty sure psychologists can't take on patients of the same family either," Ben mumbles. "Something about not wanting to side with one patient and failing the needs of the other." He shakes his head, "Aside from group sessions, they're not really a family doctor."

"You're taking that psychology class," she remembers, and then she sees Ben frown up at her. "You must have been looking for something your father could have been ailed with."

Ben slightly nods, "Yes, but it's something I found after they taught us what a DSM is." He looks off in thought, "I bought one, and when I was looking through it I found something called Intermittent Explosive Disorder, but it's like he's almost too good to have it." He meets her eyes, "Are you sure he doesn't just have anger issues, that all of this could just be cleared up with anger management classes or some online course?"

"Ben," she bides time. "I've offered your father several tips and suggestions over the years, but he hasn't responded well to much of it at all."

"By not responding," Ben examines, "do you mean he wasn't listening or do you mean that it wasn't working?"

She glances down for a second before eyeing up at him, "I mean that he will forget to use those tips if I'm not around, and no. They don't always work either." He looks away from her. "Whatever illness he has, Ben, your father can't control it. Not completely."

"You don't even think this was his fault, do you?" Ben tears up.

It takes her a long moment to answer, "I believe it would not have happened had he not been there."

He swiftly turns to her with bared teeth, "That doesn't answer my question."

Her frown deepens, "You know how your father is. When he's unwell he can overact to the smallest things, and your defensiveness… it doesn't help matters." Ben huffs through a grin as he nods. "I'm not saying it's your fault, but it's not your father's either."

"Because he's ill?" Ben turns back to her and shakes his head. "He's not even diagnosed. You can't keep using that as an excuse for his behavior."

She gives him a look, "You need more compassion. He feels just as bad for what happened as you do."

"Compassion," Ben exasperates, before his mouth gapes in disbelief. "I could have died. Again. And you chose his side. Again."

"We're family," his mother disagrees. "There are no sides."

Ben eyes off and shakes his head, "Get out."

"Hey," she softly asserts. "I love you. You know that."

He frowns at her, "I may know that, but… right now." His voice cracks, "I don't believe it." as the tears fall from his eyes.

"Honey," she tries to reach for his hand, but he pulls it away."

"I said get out," he shouts, before she slowly straightens up in the chair, takes a moment, nods, and then stands to leave the room.

After he watches her leave and the door closes, he shuts his eyes and more tears fall as he releases a shaky breath. Ben opens his eyes and takes quick breaths, searching for his phone, before he takes it and swipes the screen to put in his password; however, when he gets to his home screen he stills. There she is with her bright smile and loose curls of brown, and he lets out a long breath before hurrying to his texts. He has over a dozen new messages, some from people he doesn't even know. He notices one from Coach Jenkins and taps on it, before he presses the French button to translate it. Hey kid. How are you doing? Of course he would be worried, Ben mulls it over. He had always acted like a father to him. It's just too bad he's not. Ben scratches his head before beginning to type, but then he halts. What is he supposed to say? That he fell? All of those times that his parents never showed up to his games, how he had mouthed off about his father when he was kid, and now that he's hospitalized for something other than a fever what is he supposed to say? If anyone's going to have questions it would be him, and even though he did fall that just sounds like some lame excuse. Ben sighs, before he decides not to reply and go find Doug's texts.

When he gets to Doug's messages he notices the new one. Heard you're in the hospital. What happened? Are you okay? Ben immediately responds, "I fell. I'm fine. You should sneak in some soda for me." A few minutes later he hears his phone and looks back down before translating it. What do you mean, you fell? Ben types, "Down the stairs. I have a solid color bottle. You should sneak me some soda in it." He tentatively stares at the screen as he waits, and it feels like forever before he gets the next text. No. Ben shifts his eyes in annoyance before smiling, "Please." He sends it, but then he begins to worry. He compares his watch with the wall's. Thirty minutes have passed with no response. He picks up his phone again in panic, going back to plead some more, but he stops himself from sending it. This could be a test. Doug thinks he drinks too much soda, so he's testing him. Ben shakes his head, before he slaps a hand to his head and shuts his eyes. No. It's the bottle. Doug's looking for the stupid water bottle, but unfortunately Ben can't recall where he's placed it. He sighs, before he leans back and groans.

When Ben hears the door he opens his eyes and sees Doug. "Were you sleeping?"

Ben takes a minute, "Feelings. They aren't good for me." as he watches Doug sit down, and he grins at the black bottle before reaching for it.

Doug pulls it back, "How did you fall?"

He frowns at him, "The stairs."

"How?" Doug repeats.

Ben's eyes shift, "I'm a idiot." before he goes for the soda again.

He keeps it from him, "That's not an answer. And, by the way, vowels have an before it. Not a."

Ben looks down for a moment, "I don't speak English."

Doug scratches his nose, "And, uh, how did that happen?"

He reaches to the back of his head, fingers touching the stitches, "I fell."

"Was it your father?" Doug breathes before observing Ben's eyes look about the room. "It was. Wasn't it?"

"He didn't touch me," Ben simply states, before he looks back at Doug and opens his hand in front of him. "Bottle."

Doug sighs before handing it to him, "Three cans, but that's it. No more." before he sees the tube running from Ben's arm to the bag. "Morphine?" He sees Ben's left arm in the blue sling, "Is your arm broken?"

After Ben takes a drink he sets the bottle down to bring the hand to his shoulder, "Here… Cracked. It's cracked."

"You need morphine for that?"

"Morphine?" Ben furrows his brows, before Doug points to the hung-up bag and his eyes follow. "Ibuprofen. It's fever."

"Are you just cutting out all of your articles now?" he questions, but when Ben gives a confused look he glances down before pointing out the box of beef jerky, "Well. At least you have those."

Ben notices them, "This place don't have meat. Mom gets it when I'm here."

"Yeah," Doug think aloud. "Humans are technically frugivores and our digestive system isn't smooth like a carnivore's, so when we eat meat it can get caught in there and rot— especially if it isn't cooked enough." He adjusts his glasses, "There's actually studies that link it to cancer and shorter lifespans." before he sees Ben's blank stare. He stops and then slowly states, "Meat is bad for humans."

"Protein heals," Ben remembers.

"Yeah," Doug answers, "but protein isn't just meat." Ben fails to respond. "It's okay. You're a hybrid. It's probably fine." His eyes shift away from him, before he eyes down at the thin blanket over his legs. "So. You here a lot?"

Ben nearly chuckles before leaning back on the bed and clicking his drink open again, "I hate—" He tries to find the word but can't think of it, "This place." and then shakes his head.

"What's wrong?"

He continues to frown, "English. Life." and it takes him a while to find the last word. "Everything. Everything is wrong." His mother comes to mind and he feels his heart begin to quicken as the tears intrude his eyes once more, and he brings the bottle to his mouth to take a long gulp of the soda.

Doug forces the bottle down, "That's three cans. You know you're only supposed to have one a day, right? And I told you I wasn't getting any more." but then he sees Ben's blank stare and sighs. He meets his eyes, "Save some for later." before he takes his hand off of the water bottle and Ben stares down at it. "Later. You can have it later."

Ben frowns at him, "I want it now."

"Why?" Doug asks.

His eyes shift off as they well with tears, "I'm sad." before he lets out an unsteady breath. "She chose him again." He trails off into French and his speech quickens, "She always chooses him over me. It's always about how he's innocent, how he's done so much good, and that he loves us." He laughs, "Because he loves us, right? He did this, because he loves me." Ben lets out a heavy breath as he watches Doug go onto his phone. "And I always have to say I love him too," his eyes shift up. "I can never not say it, because if I don't he just keeps claiming he does, saying that me and Mother are everything to him, and that he would die for us."

After Doug adjusts the app's settings he presses the microphone, and he waits to read the translated words on the screen. Ben sees the microphone turn green and tries to pull himself together, "I don't understand why she can't just choose me. Why can't she just choose me, once?" He slightly shakes his head, "And she goes on about how kind and gentle he is like he's some fucking prince, but no. He's not kind, not as kind as her. And she's just completely deluded." Ben gulps, "She fell in love with a monster— a literal monster— and now I'm a hybrid, she's choosing him over me, and it's wrong. It's just all wrong." He takes long, shaky breaths as he watches Doug attempt to interpret the errors.

After several minutes Doug looks up at him and slowly questions, "Ben. I need to know. Did your father do this to you?"

Ben looks up towards the ceiling and lets out a breath, "No. It's not his fault. It's never his. It can't be, because he's ill. No. It's mine, because I'm right in my mind— apparently— and I just wasn't patient enough to wait it out. And he didn't even touch me, so there's that. He didn't push me. No. I could have walked back down those stairs. I mean, how hard is it to walk down some stupid stairs? No." He shakes his head, "I was being defensive, not careful enough, and just being a complete idiot. So, it's my fault." His eyes shift down and he mumbles, "It's always my fault… because my emotional control is the only thing I will ever have, and I don't have it." He reaches for his forehead and feels the warmness, "I'm tired."

After Doug finishes reading the paragraph he looks back up, "Ben." but when he does Ben's eyes are already shut, his head tilting to the side. Doug glances down, standing to his feet, and he presses the down button on the hospital bed to lower the incline and let Ben sleep.

- Just two things to vent about here. So, there has been a few times where my mother has told me that my emotional control is the only thing I will ever have, which is another thing that's just not very encouraging. She hasn't said that recently, but whenever I bring up the fact that she told me that she just defends herself by going into a long essay of why it's true. Now, the second thing is about compassion. My mother always tells me that I need to have more compassion, because I hate that she uses Dad's illness as an excuse for everything he does, as if it's all just okay... Anyway, it's getting late, so I won't get into this one, but yeah. I informed you about which things I have taken from my life to put in these three chapters. I hope you've enjoyed the context.

- Do let me know what you think of Ben's issues displayed in these chapters. Reading comments is interesting.

Next Up: I'm not sure. By the looks of things Doug is going to update Mal about Ben, Ben has his family dinner, and then he gets interrogated by teachers all day long... Doug may or may not go to Fairy Godmother. I want him to, but I didn't write that down, I don't think, so I may have to rearrange the chapters.