Ben was encircled by many people. He couldn't see their faces but he could hear them muttering about him, as they stood around him, poking him and examining him. He only wanted them to go away, to leave him alone… A bright, intimidating light shined over him, blinding him, as a shadow of a faceless man bent over him. "Benjamin." The male voice echoed.

Ben felt warmth as he woke up. He opened his eyes and had the familiar surroundings of his own, safe, room, just as he remembered it, the daylight passing through the thin yellow curtains, the warmth of the sun flooding over his face. Had everything that had happened been just a dream?

Ben turned his head looking to his left, to see his father, asleep in his chair, slumped over the bed. His hand still near Ben where he had been stroking his hair. Ben lay there for a while, thinking about all the crazy events that had happened over the last couple of days. It seemed to have lasted for months and months, when in reality it had been only a short time. It was almost like time travel, Ben mused to himself. Like someone had been able to slow time down. For a while, He listened to the birds chirping cheerfully, and the soft sounds of his father's breathing, studying the streams of sunlight as tiny particles swam through it.

Growing tired of lying there, Ben carefully and quietly pulled back the blankets, slipping out of the bed in the most careful manner he could. Sneaking out of his bedroom, with his father unawares. He felt thirsty, and was quite bored of laying around as he had been doing that for what seemed forever. But he was reluctant to face his father, and be questioned by him. What was he to answer? He wished not to admit that his hostile friends had turned on him. His pride would not permit the haughty 'I-told-you-so' look that he would be sure to receive. Ben wished only to forget the events that had happened in the last days… Forget that he wasn't wanted… Forget that Charles Widmore had turned on him…

Ben opened the refrigerator, quickly catching a beer can that nearly fell out as he pulled the door. He placed it back on the crowded shelf, and maneuvered the items around so he could get the milk jug. He poured himself a glass and sat down at the kitchen table drinking it in silence. Listening to the soft ticking of the clock suspended on the wall that read that it was half past ten in the morning.

The soft sunlight streamed through the window, touching him with it's warm rays and Ben was sure that it was peaceful moments like this that truly made life worth living.

"Ben?!" A startled voice came from the other room. "BEN!!" Roger rushed out of the room and into the kitchen, his eyes falling upon his son who sat in the chair drinking a glass of milk. Ben shrunk under his gaze, expecting to get yelled at. Roger's face however, turned to one of relief. "Ben…" He exhaled. "I thought maybe….I thought someone…" His father trailed off, and he stared at him anxiously. Ben was aware of the cold glass of milk in his hand, feeling rather foolish and uncomfortable under the speculative stare of his dad when he was doing something as innocent as enjoying a drink at the kitchen table. The clock ticked on as if orchestrating the awkward moments of silence as the two of them both looked at one another. After a few moments Roger broke the silence and asked, "Are you alright?" Ben hesitated before he nodded in reply. Roger swept his stringy hair back, leaning one arm on the wall, giving a sigh. "Don't ever sneak off like that again-" Ben hunched his shoulders, looking down in submission, as he had expected to get a long lecture, which is precisely why he snuck off in the first place. Roger suddenly became quiet. An odd look coming into his strained features, as he approached Ben. With a moment's hesitancy, Roger grabbed Ben into a half hug, pulling him into his chest as he roughly held onto him with such an intensity that Ben only knew him to have when he was under the alcohol's influence.

"God…I thought you were…" Roger began in a shaky voice, emotion breaking into his usual surly tone. Ben felt surprised, as his father had never shown any sort of emotion toward him except that of loathing or malcontent. This was an unexpected reaction. "Well…" His father said, sniffling. "I'm just…I'm glad you're back." Ben raised his head to look at his father's expression and was even more astounded to find that tears had taken place in his hazel eyes, trickling down his face. He had never seen his father cry before, ever. It was almost frightening, but Ben didn't know why. He himself felt as if he were on the brink of tears just from seeing his father in such a state. "Haha, Look at us." Roger commented, wiping his eyes. "What the hell are we all upset about?" He said with a half-hearted laugh. "You want breakfast?" Roger asked, releasing his son finally. Not waiting for an answer, Roger began to pull out various items out of the refrigerator. Ben watched his father as he busied himself with making them both an omelet, wondering what had caused this sudden change in behavior and whether it would be there to stay.

A/N:

Thank you all very much for the comments! I thank you for reading this story and reminding me to update it (lol!) thank you, thank you, thank you!

I'm afraid poor little Ben's happiness isn't going to last long... As something is always bound to go wrong, especially when emotions are running high... ;)