Distraction

(Day 131: Thursday Night)

"You're forgetting your role," Ben sings with a frown, before he looks up from the notebook. "I'm supposed to be the depressed one, remember?" Chad fails to respond, and Ben wets his lips before setting the mechanical pencil down onto the desk. "Okay. What is it?"

Chad's blue eyes look up at him, "I don't think God wants us to spend time together."

Ben shakes his head, "You're not making any sense."

"I know you're not a believer," Chad starts.

"No," Ben interrupts. "It's not that." He looks over him, "It's just, why would God care if we're hanging out— or working— together?"

It takes a minute for him to answer, "Because, you're a distraction."

"A distraction?"

"Yes," Chad simply says, before he becomes more nervous. "Bad things happen when I'm around you. It's a sign."

Ben brings a knuckle to his mouth in thought, before he rests his arm on the desk, "Chad." He meets his eyes, "My life's not a fairytale." before looking off. "If you can't handle the collateral damage, then I understand. But, please, do not blame this on some god."

"I'm not making an excuse," Chad sadly defends. "I want to be with you. I do. But the more we spend time together the more bad things happen, and it's not your life. It's mine. My life gets worse. It has nothing to do with you… aside that it gets worse when I am with you."

"Chad," Ben slowly comments, "sometimes coincided things are just that: coincidences."

"No," he insists. "This is different. I know it is."

Ben slightly nods, "Okay. Tell me, why do you think God is doing this?"

It takes him a moment, "I told you."

"Because I'm a distraction," he says.

Chad's mouth opens before he slowly explains, "I'm happier when I'm around you. I think about the time we spend together more than a lot of things, more than God."

Ben nods, "I get it. You can only have one man in your life."

"This isn't a joke," Chad stresses.

"I know it's not," Ben evenly responds. "So, how about you stop talking in circles and give me a straight answer so that I can help you."

"I," Chad begins, but he finds himself unable to admit to it.

"You what?" Ben softly prompts.

"I can't disobey Him again," Chad whispers. "It's been really bad when I do."

"Okay." Ben offers a stern look, "All you have told me so far is that God doesn't want you to be happy. Well, so what? Screw Him. You are the only heir to the Charmington throne, and as king of this country I say you can spend as much fucking time with whoever you damn well please." He smiles, "And, you know what? If God has a problem with that, He can take it up with me. Because, I honestly don't see how He could make my life any frickin' worse."

Chad slightly smiles, "Thank you."

Ben lets out a breath, "Yeah. Now, come on. We have kingly work to do."

The following afternoon Ben knocks on the door with the thermos, and when Evie answers he asks, "Can I see Mal?"

"She's sick," Evie warns.

"That's why I need to see her." Ben holds up the silver bottle, "I got her some soup."

She nods, "Okay." before she steps aside.

When Ben goes inside he notices Mal look at him, and he walks over to her, "How are you doing?"

"Cold," she shivers.

He glances between the sleeping bag and the heat lamp above, before he twists the cap off of the thermos, "Here. Maybe this can warm you up." He places the lid on the bedside table before pouring the soup into the cup, "I made sure to have a lot of chicken in it." and as he sets the thermos down Mal reaches for the lid; however, when she drinks from it she makes a face. "Is something wrong?"

"No." Mal makes a noise, "It's just the taste. It's—" Rotten? No. She can't say that. "I'm sorry. Everything's weird right now."

"Of course," Ben realizes. "Makes sense." His eyes shift between the lamp and her again.

"I don't expect you to give me any heat," she comments.

"I would," he assures, before he wets his lips. "But I can't get sick."

"No." Mal slightly nods, "I get it." before she loudly breathes with another shiver.

"Ben," Evie says, before he turns toward her. "You should leave."

Ben merely frowns before looking back at Mal, "I love you." and after she curls up more with the sleeping bag he turns around and heads back to the door.

When Mal makes it to the dark kitchen the first thing she does is go to open the second fridge, and after the light floods the room she sees the options: bacon, steak, fish, turkey, chicken, and hamburger. She catches a glimpse of the package of square beef, before she pulls it out, walks over to the island counter, and strips the plastic away. The fresh smell calls to her, and she grabs a chuck of the pink meat. It's cold but not any colder than her, and when she shoves it into her mouth it takes her only seconds to get it down; however, something is missing. It's more slimy than it is juicy, and after she finds the flaw she goes back to the open fridge. She takes the jug out, finds a glass to pour the red liquid in, and when she brings it back to the counter she sits, staring at it in contemplation. She'd promised herself that she'd never have it, but then again she'd also promised that she'd never eat meat raw.

If Mal were back at the Isle right now, she'd be starving herself. It just seemed faster to heal that way, but now that she'd made it to the land of the plenty and Ben's shown her how good bloody meat can taste she has to at least give it a try. She brings the glass up to her lips, and she lets out a breath at the intense metallic smell. It's just like those chain necklaces she used to chew on, except that she won't accidently swallow this. She can do it purposely and so she does, before she grabs another section of the hamburger. "Mal," Evie's voice is heard, and when the light flips on Mal turns towards her. Evie walks over, assessing the situation, "Midnight cravings at the worst, aren't they?"

"It only tastes good because I'm sick," Mal excuses.

"Speaking of sick," Evie comments before going to shut the fridge door, swiftly turning back to her. "You should be in bed."

"I was hungry," Mal widens her eyes.

Evie walks up to her, "I could have easily gotten this stuff for you."

It takes Mal a minute to admit, "I didn't want you to know."

She frowns at her, "And why's that?"

Mal hesitates, "You would've seen me differently."

Evie's eyebrows furrow, before she takes a step forward, "You're afraid of me seeing you differently?" She huffs in disbelief, "M. I've seen your mother eat like this countless times. If you're worried about me seeing you differently, then you should be more worried about how you threatened my father's life."

"Afterlife," she corrects.

Evie notices her shiver, "Cold and rampantly hungry, and yet you still feel like you can talk to me like this?"

"Like what?" Mal counters.

"Like what I say doesn't mean anything," Evie shouts. "Like, that because I have feelings for you, you can just use me for whatever and then toss me out like trash."

She offers a serious look, "I don't think of you like trash."

"Well, you don't love me."

Mal stands up and leans forward to kiss her, "Tell me I don't now." and Evie silences. "Think about it," Mal seethes. "Do I treat you and Ben any differently?"

"You're cold," Evie bypasses. "We need to get you to bed."

Mal glances at the counter, "What about—"

"I'll grab it for you," she reassures, "but first we need to run you a hot bath to get you warm, and maybe if you stay in bed this time you can keep that heat longer than five minutes."

It takes Mal a moment to say, "Thank you."

Evie sighs, "You're welcome." before they exit the kitchen.