Starved
(Sunday Evening)
After Ben sits down and lines up the sodas his mother questions, "Honey. Is three cans really necessary?"
Ben doesn't respond, merely opening the first one, but then his father comments, "Ben. Your mother asked a question. Answer her."
Ben frowns up at her, "Yes." before he takes another drink and picks up his fork.
His mother watches as he pushes the potatoes around, "You seem quiet." and when he fails to comment she continues. "Is there something wrong?" He stops moving the white blob, but he still doesn't speak. "You know, you can tell us anything."
No. Ben is absolutely certain he can't, but after a glance at his seemingly calm father Ben faces his mother. He opens his mouth, but it takes a moment for the words to come out, "It's Mal."
"What happened?" she inquires.
Ben's eyes shift. What happened? He recalls how she'd touched him and how helpless he'd been, before he wets his lips, "She's been drinking."
His mother sighs as his father remarks, "I knew that girl would be trouble." and Ben's unable to find the energy to defend her. He continues on, "I think she needs help, but I've been having a hard time talking to her. So…"
"I can talk to her if you'd like," she offers.
Ben slightly nods, "That would be nice." but after a minute of staring down at his plate he just looks up again. "I'm really tired. Can I stay here tonight?"
His mother smiles, "You live here, don't you?" but when he fails to smile she frowns again. "Yes. You may." She nods to his plate, "Now. Go on, eat."
Ben slowly shakes his head, "I'm too tired."
Tears begin to fill her eyes, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"
He intakes her sweet scent, "No." before he faces her. "I'm good." His mother lets out a couple shaky breathes as the tears start to flow, and she attempts to cover her mouth as Ben hears the sound of her cry. It's unsettling to see her this way, "Mother. It's okay. I'm fine." but his reassurance only seems to make her sob louder.
His father leans in to comfort her, wrapping an arm around her, before he turns his attention to Ben, "Eat something."
She shakes her head, "No." and Ben can see her pained expression as she looks at him. "You're excused."
Ben stays seated, a gaped frown in his features as he quietly comments, "Mom."
"You heard her," his father defends, before he nods up. "You're excused."
Ben faces his mother once again, before he quietly stands from his seat and steps toward the hallway. He stops at his door and listens in, as his mother whispers, "He's only had one piece of meat this month, and now he's too tired to eat anything at all?" He hears his father attempt to hush her. "He's going to die, isn't he? He's starving himself to death, and there's nothing I can do about it." His father attempts to sooth her into silence again, and Ben's eyes shift toward the floor. His father didn't say he would be okay. He didn't say it was temporary, that he was just being childish, or that there'd be a way to make this okay. He hushed her, because he couldn't find a way to disagree with her. Ben looks up at the door next to him and quietly opens it, before he enters his room and then carefully shuts it. He doesn't bother to turn on any lights as he makes his way to his bed, and he lays down on the soft surface before covering up with the sheet.
He stares up at the ceiling as he watches the sunlight drift down and the shadows cast above, and as it gets darker his eyes shift. He stands from the bed and walks down the dark hallways, before he crosses the dining room and enters the kitchen. He walks straight to the fridge and opens it, before he finds the leftover gravy. He opens the red top of the plastic container, before he brings a corner to his mouth and downs the liquid. He feels his stomach rumble, before he licks the container clean and finds the turkey. He struggles to get the cap off of the large bowl, but when he finally does he sets it aside and digs his hand into it. He shoves a mouthful of it into his mouth and then recalls the dryness, before he finds the soda and pulls the remaining case out. He gets the turkey down with the soda, and as soon as he knows it the entire bowl is emptied; however, it's then he feels the stabbing pain and holds his hand hard against his abdomen.
Ben takes a deep breath before scouring the fridge for more meat, and he can feel his saliva act up as he sees it. He takes the container of thawed steak out and places it onto the counter, before he rips the plastic off. He doesn't even care that it's not warm. The intense bittersweet taste is welcomed this time, and his teeth tears through it easily. Ben tastes the blood in his mouth and sucks on the wound of his cheek, before he turns onto his side and shuts his eyes to sleep.
When Ben wakes up the next morning he groans at the light flooding in through the windows, and he squints as he checks his watch. His eyes widen in panic, before he pulls the sheet off from him and stands from the bed. He hurries to use the bathroom, before he rushes out his bedroom door; however, when he gets to the stairs he hears the voices. He halts, and the next moment his mother calls, "Ben?" He glances down the stairs, but when he hears her voice again he looks forward and steps down the remainder of the hall.
When he makes it to the edge of the dining room he sees Dr. Roberts smile, "Good morning, Ben. Would you like to take a seat?"
"I have school," he unsurely responds.
"You don't need to worry about that," his mother informs. "I called them after you slept through your second class."
Ben's mouth slightly gapes, "But I'm not sick." His parents eye each other, and none of them say a word.
It takes minute for the grey haired doctor to ask again, "Would you like to take a seat?" and Ben looks at his feet as he steps in place. If he walks in there he's going to get in trouble.
"Honey," his mother softly addresses, and he looks up at her. "Come here, please."
Ben takes a final look back at the stairs, before he steps forward into the dining room and finds a seat several chairs away from both his mother and his doctor. The doctor comments, "You parents tell me you haven't been eating."
"I eat," Ben monotones, before his eyes shift away from him.
"Just not meat," he adds on, and Ben remains silent, unwilling to face any of them. "Can you tell us why you've stopped?" Ben peeks up at his parents. If he said why, they'd just tell him how unreasonable he's being again. He shakes his head, and Dr. Roberts frowns with a nod, "Ben. You're a smart kid. Do you know what the rule of threes is?"
"Uh, yeah," he vaguely recalls. "I learned in back in Life Science, I think… Something about how someone can only live about three minutes without air, three days without water, and…" He faces him, "Where are you going with this, exactly?"
The blue eyed doctor answers, "I've been told you've only eaten once this month." and Ben looks down. "Most people can only go about a month without eating," the doctor informs. "It varies based on stored body fat and the overall health of the individual." Ben meets his eyes but doesn't say anything. "Prolonged starvation can cause permanent organ damage." He still fails to speak, "Ben. If you continue on like this, your heart will give out and you will die."
Ben slowly shakes his head, "And?"
The doctor sees Belle's horrified reaction and informs, "Malnutrition can also affect the brain. That's why depressive disorders are often comorbid with anorexia."
"I'm not anorexic," Ben quietly defends.
Dr. Roberts turns back to him, "I'm not here to diagnosis you with anything. You would need someone from psychiatry to do that for you."
"I'm ill enough," Ben counters. "I don't want to be diagnosed with anything else."
"Just because you don't get diagnosed that does not mean it won't still be an issue," the doctor warns, and then Ben looks down in silence. "But we're not here for that. We're here, because your parents care about you and they wanted you to hear it from a professional."
He faces him again, "Hear what?"
Dr. Roberts hesitates, "Ben. You've already gone on like this for a month. If you continue like this you will die, and that will be sooner rather than later."
"How soon?" Ben inquires.
It takes him a moment to say, "No one has made it past a little more than three months." and then Ben nods.
He faces him again, "Okay. Can I leave now?"
"I'm afraid not," the doctor comments, before he slides a blender bottle in front of Ben.
"What's this? A protein shake?"
"I'm going to need you to drink it before you go anywhere," he instructs.
Ben pulls open the cap and takes a whiff, before he grimaces, "It smells like metal."
"It might be a little stale," the doctor informs, "but it should still have nutritional value for you."
Ben furrows his eyebrows at him as his mouth gapes in realization, "You're not seriously going to make me drink blood right now."
"I was told that the last time you ate you complained that the steak wouldn't have blood in it after it'd been reheated," he calmly comments.
"Meat juice," Ben firmly corrects with widened eyes. "If I wanted dry roast I could have just eaten here."
"The blood is from the butcher," he informs. "It should be very similar to what was in that steak of yours." Ben shakes his head. "It's just animal blood and chocolate protein powder, non-plant based. I highly suggest that you try it."
"And if I don't?" Ben counters.
It takes a moment for Dr. Roberts to respond, "If you don't drink that, then your parents have given me permission to find you a discreet psychiatrist."
Ben freezes, before he makes sure, "Psychiatrist, not psychologist?"
"Yes," he confirms.
Ben faces his mother, "You want me to be put on medication."
The doctor informs, "I could do it myself." and Ben swiftly turns back to him. "But I don't know why you're doing this and therefore I cannot know for sure what could help." Ben gulps as the tears intrude his eyes, and he lets out a long, quiet breath. "I know how much medicine you already take, so believe me when I say this is the last thing I want, but I'm afraid that if you refuse to drink this shake, then you will have left me with no choice."
"Son," his father voices, and Ben looks at him. "All of this trouble can be avoided if you simply drink it."
Ben stares down at the red bottle. Blood. It's blood. "I don't want to," he whispers.
"Honey," his mother whispers in return. "It's only one drink."
He looks up at her with tears in his eyes, "And you're letting this happen?"
It takes a moment for her to respond, "Dr. Roberts is right. It's nothing different than what you've had before." and Ben sadly laughs as he looks back down at it.
What if he likes it. Even with that horrible stench, what if he actually likes it. Surely, he would go out searching for more in any way he could. He shakes his head, "I don't know if I can do this."
"You can," his mother informs. "Just don't think about it." Ben's hand shakes as he lifts the large bottle up to his mouth, and the first thing he notices when the substance enters his mouth is the gloopyness. He separates the glop with his tongue before swallowing, but when he takes another drink what he notices is the taste. The chocolate has overridden the metallic taste, almost complimenting it, and he calms a bit as he finds it easier to chug it; however, he feels the tears come loose from his eyes. He wishes it had been worse, but it didn't taste completely terrible and when he makes it past a pint he knows it's true. His stomach isn't having a problem with it, and that can only mean one thing: he is anything but human, not even close to what he'd been raised to believe he was. He finishes it and clanks the bottle down onto the wooden table, before he rests his head in his arms and cries. "Honey," he hears his mother say, but his breathing is too unsteady to respond.
"Why is he crying?" Ben's father questions.
The doctor evenly answers, "Could be guilt. Could be stress."
"Honey," his mother says again. "What's wrong?"
When Ben fails to respond once again the doctor comments, "Remember. He's still only a teenager, a hybrid teenager may I add. Emotions will be high."
"He's never had emotional problems before," Belle disbelieves. "Not like this."
"Like I said before," Dr. Roberts states, "malnutrition can affect the brain, and he doesn't have the same energy he used to. That combination can make things harder."
"So, what do we do?" Adam questions.
The doctor sighs, "Try to keep him eating. Eventually, his mind should start functioning properly again."
"And if we can't get him to?" he counters.
Dr. Roberts takes a moment, "Then we may need to reconsider that psychiatrist."
- Just to be clear in case you missed it, Ben never left his bed. He was daydreaming about eating all of that stuff. What actually happened was that the hunger made his teeth feel tense, he accidentally bit his cheek, and that's the blood he tasted. That's it. That's all that happened.
- Next Up: Belle talks to Mal, Chad has his "date" with Ben, and Mal acts up.