Bad Bunnies

(Day 155: Sunday Morning)

"Oh. Aziz. Hey."

"Um," he nervously smiles, as he notices Doug's confusion. "Ben really needs to have breakfast today."

"Yeah," Doug readjusts his glasses. "That's not going to happen."

He shakes his head, "Why not?"

Doug nods, his eyes up in thought, "It's Sunday. It's morning. He's asleep."

Aziz shakes his head, "And?"

"And." Doug takes a breath, "He's not going to wake up."

He frowns in slight annoyance, "What time did he get to sleep?"

"Doesn't matter." Doug quickly comments, "He'll be asleep 'til noon." before he maneuvers to switch spots with him. "But feel free to try." He puts up a hand, "Wait. No." before he uncomfortably smiles. "Just stay here on Ben watch. I'd like to have breakfast this weekend."

"Why can't I just wake him up, so we can all eat?" Aziz irritably replies.

"Do you feel like getting yelled at in French?"

He takes a moment, "No."

"Good," Doug smiles. "Then you'll let him sleep." Aziz takes a deep breath before stepping over to the table to take a seat, and after a minute he gives Doug a look. "If you really want to try," he slowly comments, "then turn the lights off." His eyes scour the room, "Like, all of them. It'll make him think it's later than it is." He looks away from Aziz's furrowed eyebrows and notices the cracked curtain, before he points, "Fix those. They need to be closed more."

"You just want to keep him asleep," Aziz doubts. "He needs to eat."

Doug offers an even expression, "The light hurts his eyes. He won't wake up until it's gone. But if you'd rather open the curtains further, feel free. We can all miss lunch too." Aziz's mouth cracks open in contemplation, but when he doesn't comment Doug speaks, "Not everyone wakes up at the break of dawn."

"Before dawn," Aziz lets him know.

"God," Doug spouts, looking away, before he places a hand to his head. "It's too early for this." He faces him, "Sit. Stay." before he points to Ben. "Watch." He takes a deep breath, "I'm going to eat something. Finally." before he turns into the hall and mumbles over his shoulder. "Don't upset him. I'll be back soon."

After he leaves Aziz watches the door close, before he looks over at Ben, stands from the seat, and goes to shut the curtain. He looks down at Ben and whispers, "If you ate, you wouldn't be so tired all the time." and after a moment he eyes the bedside table. "Where's your sunglasses?" The top of the bedside table is spotless, so he opens the drawer; however, when he does he pauses. He glances from Ben to the bottles, before he picks them up and puts them back into their place one by one. The ibuprofen and cold medicine isn't surprising. Someone with such a high body temperature probably has a lot of things like that.

However, when Aziz picks up the next three bottles he takes a moment to look at Ben. Melatonin, Valerian Root, and Natra Sleep are all a part of his secret drawer. He puts the last bottle in its place, before he picks up the small book. He flips it open, and page by page there it is: exercise, type, time-amount, and at the very bottom: sleep. Aziz flips through the pages. Ben never sleeps. He sighs and puts the book back, before kneels down and whispers, "Ben." Ben makes a sound, and he speaks a little louder, "Ben? Can you hear me?"

"Aziz?"

"Yes," he answers.

"You're in my room," Ben mumbles.

"It's time for you to get up," Aziz softly speaks.

"I need to get the papers done."

"You can to that later," he counters. "You need to come down and eat." Ben makes a noise, and he questions, "Where's your sunglasses?"

His eyebrows furrow, but his eyes remain close, "I can't wear those downstairs."

"Why not?"

It takes him a minute to answer, "My father will break it again."

Aziz takes a breath, "Ben. Your father's not here."

"He'll hear it," he whispers. "He'll come and… break it."

"Why?" Aziz inquires.

"I can't let the people see me with it."

"Why?" he repeats.

"Because," Ben irritably mumbles. "Just because."

"Ben," Aziz shuts his eyes for a second, "that's not a real answer."

"It's the answer I got."

It takes a long minute for Aziz to opinionate, "You really should come down with me."

"My papers aren't ready," Ben counters. "I can't speak without my papers."

"Speak?"

"You should speak for me," he thinks up.

"For what?" Aziz shakes his head.

"The people," Ben quietly answers. "They're waiting."

Aziz's mouth cracks open, "You're asleep." but he doesn't respond. "Ben?" He repeats it a little louder, and when there's still no answer he shakes him. "Hey."

"I could kill you." Aziz halts, standing upright. "No one would know. It could be our little secret." He stays quiet and still, and Ben sucks his cheeks before turning onto his stomach. Aziz hears Ben's stomach growl and steps forward, "Ben?"

"The bad bunnies are gone."

"Bad bunnies?" Aziz questions.

"They were digging the roses," Ben mumbles. "I got rid of them for you."

Aziz nods, "Okay."

"Aren't you going to say thank you?"

Aziz smiles as he laughs, "Thank you."

"Hey," Doug notices Ben enter the dorm. "How was dinner?"

Ben sits adjacent from him, frowning, "My mother invited Mal and the other Islanders to stay at the castle for this summer."

"You don't seem very happy about it," he notices.

Ben wets his lips, "It's just…" He lowers his head. He has no words.

"Your father," Doug quietly assumes.

Ben slowly faces him, not bothering to deny it, "He has a lot of rules. They won't know what any of them are, what happens if they don't follow them, or… the signs."

"Signs?"

"The way he speaks, the words he uses, his face," he lists, before he eyes down towards the floor. "You can tell when he's ill."

Doug takes a moment, "You keep calling it ill. But he's still the same person. You know that. You have to."

"Doesn't matter," Ben mutters as his eyes shift. "It's not his fault. He has no… control over it. And sometimes…" He solemnly laughs, "Sometimes it's over nothing." before he shakes his head. "They won't be safe there. They're… bad seeds: fairies, witches, and killers." He meets Doug's green eyes, "If my father can't deal with me, he won't deal with them."

"What are you going to do?"

Ben eyes over the room, before he unsurely shrugs a shoulder, "The East Wing?"

"Oh, no," Doug's mouth gapes. "I've heard this story before."

"No," Ben calmly asserts. "I would be doing this for their safety, and they wouldn't have to stay. They could leave at will."

"Still," he pursues. "Do you really want to repeat your father's mistakes?"

"If I can make this work," Ben thinks, "then it will be like it never happened. I could turn something bad into something good."

Doug sighs before readjusting his glasses, "You know, Ben." before he faces him. "I really wish you couldn't told me about all of this sooner."

Ben glances down, "There was nothing to tell." before his eyes meet his. "I had no words. I still don't. It's like…" He wets his lips, "Like this is all just some movie or book, and… you know how it ends. But you play your part in the story anyway."

"And how does your story end?"

Ben takes a moment, speaking before he even knows what he's going to say, "Like everyone's does." He darts his eyes from the table to him, "I'll be dead."

"So, you do eat."

Ben's mouth gapes as he sees Aziz near the arch, "How did you know I was here?"

"You're a royal, Ben," he reminds him. "People are going to take pictures."

Ben wets his lips, "No one's ever really have before." before he eyes down at his steak. "At least, not here." Aziz comes to sit down, and he comments, "I don't want you here."

"Why not?"

It takes a minute for Ben to say, "I can't have someone here." before his eyes scan over the two entrées and three plates of steak, half of which has already been eaten. He faces him, "This is just something I have to do alone."

It's quiet for a long moment, before Aziz asks, "How long have you been doing this?"

Ben opens his mouth to speak, but he makes a disgruntled noise before staring down at the table, "It got pretty bad freshman year. But, I really can't think of a time when I wasn't doing this kind of thing."

"Why do you do this?"

He lifts a shoulder, shaking his head before laughing, "I was just so hungry. All the time." He continues in a whisper, "And nothing really helped." and he takes an unsteady breath. "I would just eat and eat, until there was nothing left. And then… I fell behind in other things— important things— and so… I stopped altogether. I, uh, went back-and-forth between eating everything and having nothing… because it didn't do anything." His eyes shift, "It's nothing but a big time waste."

"And now?" Aziz softly asks.

Ben faces him, gulping, "And now?" He half laughs, "I gave up. I don't even think about it, really. It's just something I do— something I have to do."

He looks over the large amount of food, disturbed, "Ben." Aziz shakes his head, "You don't need to do this." Ben looks down, and he continues, "Food is just a tool to live. You can't make it any more important than that."

"I'm not trying to," Ben shakily says, before he meets his eyes and Aziz watches as the tears fall from his eyes. "I wish I didn't need food at all."

"You're making food more important than you," Aziz calmly asserts, "whether you're eating it or not. Don't you hate that? Where's your will, your self-worth?"

Ben looks down, "It scares me." before he looks at him again. "You know, if someone goes without eating and then they eat a lot, their stomach can break. They can die."

Aziz's mouth gapes, "Ben. If this can kill you and you know it, then why? How can you do this when you know that?"

"Because," Ben slowly responds, "I can't stop." Aziz fails to comment, staring in shock, so he elaborates, "It's the only way I know how to be okay."

"But you're not okay," he disbelieves. "You're binging. You're restricting." Aziz realizes, "Ben. You have an eating disorder."

"No, I don't," he quietly denies. He grins in pain, "I'm just trying not to be hungry. Because, I'm always just so frickin' hungry, and… it's always just been this way." He laughs again, "You know, you would think I would be used to it by now." before he shakes his head. "But I'm not. I'm really not. And I just can't take it anymore." Aziz fails to speak, and he questions, "Why did this have to happen to me?"

"Have you talked to your doctor about this?" he suggests.

Ben takes a moment, "Not so directly." as his eyes shift down. "I think he would just blame it on being a teenager, you know, or being active." He thinks, "It did get worse around when all that started happening."

"A nutritionist would know," Aziz remarks. "Different people need different things. If you need more of one food than another—"

"Aziz," Ben interrupts. "Please. I don't want to deal with this right now."

He nods, "Okay." And there's a long pause before he changes the subject. "You know, I came this morning to take you to breakfast."

"You did?"

Aziz nods, "Yeah. Uh." Before he tries to smile. "Sounded like you were too busy killing off all the bad bunnies in your rose garden."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "I—"

"It was just a dream," he acknowledges. "It's fine. I get bad stuff too. It doesn't mean you want to think that way."

"It's just your mind getting ready for things," Ben recalls, before he questions, "What bad stuff have you dreamed about?"

"Mostly?" Aziz lets out a stressed breath, frowning. "Either getting held for ransom or the Jihadist extremists breaking into the castle to rape my sister." Ben's jaw drops. "Yeah. Um." He glances down at his hands before unsurely meeting Ben's eyes, "Not really the kind of thing you want to think about. And when I die, I can always feel it happen." He takes a moment, remembering the dagger, "I never wake up before I die. I have to feel it first." Ben doesn't speak, so he grins, "I guess my mind's really good at preparing itself."

"Yeah," Ben continues to frown.

"Well. I should let you be." He stands before raising his eyebrows and motioning a hand over the table, "You still wanted to do this alone. Right?"

"Uh, yeah," Ben attempts to smile, before he wets his lips. "I kind of have to."

Aziz nods, "Well, be safe. And give me a call if you feel your stomach break."

"Will do," Ben lets out a breath, before he watches Aziz leave. He glances over his meal with a deep frown. How is he supposed to eat this now?