Tom stared at his boy as he lay silently on the bed. It had been a few hours since Ben had succumbed to his wounds but Tom hadn't asked for Hal or Matt to be woken. He wanted to get a good handle on his emotions first but the longer he sat there staring at Ben the more he realized that that was a pipe dream. His baby was dead. There was no controlling that kind of grief.
"Anne will you and Dan wake the boys? Make sure they're not groggy when they come to see Ben." Tom ran his thumb over Ben's cold hand. "I can't leave Ben." Anne nodded and went to do as she was bade. As she closed the door she once again heard the unrestrained sound of sobbing.
Hal and Matt woke to see Weaver sitting, silently looking out the window. He looked ten years older and more unfocused than they'd ever seen him. "What happened?" asked Hal rubbing his stiff neck. Dan looked at them before leaning forward and clasping his hands.
"There's no good way to say this. I'd rather you heard it from me than from some fool on the way to your father. Ben's gone. And Tom, well Tom's not taking it so well."
"Gone?" repeated Matt. "He went with the skitters again?" Hal's eyes sparkled with tears.
"He mean's Ben's dead, don't you, Captain?" Weaver nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry. He died about six hours ago." Hal gathered Matt into his arms while trying to remember what it felt like to hold Ben like that. It had been so long that Hal could only imagine it.
"How did he die? Did Karen shoot him?" Weaver chewed on his lip trying and failing to find the right words to gently tell the brothers the truth. They would know soon enough. They shouldn't have to find out from someone like Pope.
"He went to Karen to save our asses. Hal, you know about that. They hurt him pretty badly but he wouldn't tell them what they wanted to know. The left Ben for us and he died an hour or so later." Matt was weeping silently, his face expressionless save for the tears rolling down his face.
"They tortured him?" asked Hal. Weaver nodded.
"For several days. And they did it in front of us. We kept the three of you drugged as long as we could so you didn't have to watch. Tom watched at the end though. And he held Ben as he died."
"Why didn't you help him?" asked Hal blankly. Anger would come later for the brothers. Right now they were just trying to understand.
"The same reason we didn't help ourselves. There was nothing to be done but wait."
"Can we see him?" asked Matt.
"No," blurted Hal before Weaver could answer. "Not if they hurt him."
"Its ok Hal. They hurt him through the spikes. Other than that he's unharmed. You're father's sitting with him now." With that he led them to the room where they had laid Ben's body. Before they went in Weaver paused. "I know you boys are hurting real bad right now. But you have to be strong for Tom. We all do."
"That's what Ben told me to do before he drugged me," said Matt dully. "I miss him." Tom had fallen asleep while waiting for his other son's. When the door snicked shut he shot to his feet, pistol trained on them. Just as quickly he set the weapon down and went to hug his remaining sons.
"Are you doing ok, dad?" asked Hal. Tom wiped at his eyes and nodded though it was clear he was lying. Tom looked like he was on death's door, even more so than poor Ben. Matt pulled free and went to his fallen brother, his dark eyes wide.
"He doesn't look how he's supposed to," said Matt anxiously.
"What do you mean, Mattie?" asked Hal. Matt looked up his eyes pooling with tears.
"He doesn't like he's asleep. Or peaceful. He looks dead." Tom knelt and straightened Matt's jacket compulsively.
"Ben wasn't feeling very good when he died, Matt. That's why he doesn't look like what you're used to seeing."
"He didn't lose consciousness then?" asked Hal. Tom swallowed thickly, remembering the sound of his little boy dying.
"I don't want to talk about it any longer," he said finally. Hal nodded instantly sorry that he had asked. Weaver could tell him anything he needed to know. From what Hal had gathered Weaver probably knew more about his brother's death than his dad.
Matt had turned from Ben's body his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold in his sobs. It took longer than it would have a week ago but Tom slowly gathered Matt close and held him as he cried. Hal took the opportunity to take a closer look himself. His stomach knotted with grief when he saw how Ben's tan skin had taken on a delicate blue grey cast darkened to a deep indigo in lines that radiated down his limbs and through his face. Hal gently ran his finger over one of the lines, morbidly fascinated when he noticed the lines were noticeably warmer and swollen. Somehow he couldn't connect the still body on the bed with his little brother. It wasn't Ben lying so still though Hal could see the green of his eyes through his slitted lids. Ben hadn't been this still since he was harnessed. If he slept it was a light doze that left him restless and twitchy. Ben was never still. Not even when he was on patrol and he froze to listen for skitters. His fingers would always rub the stock of his gun while his head turned slowly, trying to find the direction of the sound. This wasn't Ben.
Hal was startled from his thoughts by Weaver's hand on his shoulder. For a man who had been blaming Ben for their predicament only a few days ago he looked remarkably sorry.
"Can I talk to you alone, Captain?" asked Hal. He was puzzled when Weaver winced a grimace marring his tired face.
"Yeah, Hal let's find a room to talk." Weaver led the elder Mason son away to a room a few doors from his family. Hal was silent for a long time, touring the room, feeling Dan's eyes follow him as he tried to think of why he had called the Captain away.
"I want to know what happened to my brother. I want to know why Ben is dead and the rest of the Second Mass is fine! I want to know why you didn't save my little brother!" Weaver held up his hands, patting the air in a placating gesture.
"Believe me when I say, Hal, we did everything we could to save you're brother. There was just nothing to be done." Hal swore angrily spinning from the Captain and running his hands through his sleep tangled hair.
"I want to know everything that happened since I was drugged. Everything." Weaver started shaking his head before Hal had even finished. "Don't you dare tell me no!" roared Hal. "I deserve to know! Ben's dead!"
"Stand down, soldier," barked Weaver. "You did not just spend the last several days drugged for no reason! Ben did not want you to know. He didn't want his family to know. I can't keep everything from you. Too many saw what happened. But what you need to know, what you need to take away from what you're going to hear when you leave this room, is that your brother died a hero. That's it. That's all that matters." Hal glared, his muscles so rigid he thought he might shatter from the strain.
"Ben was always a hero. That's what we all refused to see. And it cost him his life." The two men glowered at one another for several tense minutes.
"Go to your family, Hal. They need you right now," said Weaver finally, his voice having lost its confrontational tone. He sounded tired again. Hal sighed but turned to the door.
"Could you have stopped him? Before he went to meet her?"
"I could have tried," replied Weaver honestly. "But its a hard thing to walk to your death. I can't imagine how hard it would be to fight your friends for that same end. I couldn't do that to him, not when I knew he would win." Hal closed the door.
Tom had sent Matt to help with the preparations to leave. Dan had asked if they needed more time but frankly Tom couldn't wait to leave the hospital. They were going to continue on the way to Charleston, and hopefully shake whatever surveillance Karen had left in her bloody wake. On the way Tom had to find a place to bury Ben. Weaver had offered to dig the grave on the hospital grounds, where the best landscaping had been but Tom refused. He would not leave Ben in the place where he had suffered so much. Weaver had tried to be gentle when he reminded Tom that almost eight hours had passed since Ben's death and that he would need to be laid to rest soon. Tom had ordered him to leave.
Hal poked his head around the door. "Dad, we're ready to leave now. We need to get Ben ready for travel." Tom nodded silently. Hal came into the room carrying a stretcher for his brother. They both ignored how stiff Ben had become in just a few hours.
While the Mason's had been grieving Maggie and Weaver had been kind enough to find a spot in the woods to bury Ben. It was quiet, a good distance from the hospital, and most importantly full of life. The birds sang in the trees, while the odd squirrel or rabbit disturbed the brush. After the grave was dug Tom and his sons arrived, guided by Maggie. Weaver quietly set his shovel to the side.
"Are we waiting for anyone else?" asked Dan gently. Tom wiped at his leaking eyes.
"No," he said roughly. "I wanted to invite Ben's friends then I realized I didn't know who any of them were. I had no idea what Ben did when he wasn't with me. I asked Matt but he said he was Ben's only friend. If he wasn't with Ben then Ben was alone, trying to stay out of sight." Tom rubbed the back of his neck. "Did you know Ben didn't go to school anymore? I thought he went when he wasn't on patrol but he didn't. Ben used to love school."
"You can't blame yourself, Tom," said Weaver, not quite sure whether he was reassuring Tom about Ben's death or his isolation. He supposed a little bit of both.
"I knew though. I knew he was bullied but I figured he could handle it. He never asked for help. He was suffering long before Karen and I just wouldn't see it."
"Your son surely suffered from loneliness, Tom Mason. But he would not hear of coming to live with us," interrupted a new voice. The guns clicked menacingly as the safeties were turned off, ready to confront the new threat. A harnessed boy stepped from the clearing's perimeter, followed by the red-eyed skitter.
"Why are you here?" snarled Tom, anger blazing through his body faster than any explosion could spread fire.
"I received Ben's message that he had been compromised. We came in force as soon as we could but we were too late. We came in time to watch you carry him inside of your complex. We called out to him but it became apparent very quickly that he could no longer answer. We have followed you since. May I ask how he was compromised?" Tom turned away, unable to bear looking at the cause of his son's death.
"Karen had us trapped," replied Weaver after a moment. "She tried to bargain with us for Ben." The skitter and boy stepped back.
"You betrayed him?" asked the boy, his voice the strange monotone they were accustomed to hearing from Ben. Weaver scowled.
"No, we did not. Ben chose to go on his own. We tried to convince him that it was best for the war effort if he slipped away. He wouldn't leave us." The boy uttered a huff that passed for a bitter laugh.
"Ben's loyalty to the Second Mass was legendary. His tale will be told for many years hence."
"That doesn't help Ben much does it?" asked Tom turning back to look at the skitter. "My son's dead. And for what?"
"For you," replied the boy without hesitation. "Ben joined us in order to secure a better future for you and his brothers. Though I do not question his courage, I must ask: how much did Ben reveal to the Overlord? Its important that we know which agents are compromised."
"Nothing. Ben held his own against them. It was important to him that you know that your trust in him was well placed." The skitter looked down.
"Ben valued trust above much. He dreamed of the day that the Second Mass trusted him as we did." It hurt Tom that he couldn't deny that Ben had been mistrusted. Even he had questioned Ben's allegiances until his death. Hal cleared his throat from where he and Matt were watching over their brother.
"Dad, its getting late. We need to get started." As badly as Hal never wanted to say good bye to his brother he knew that nature was taking its course without their consent. They needed to lay Ben to rest before too much longer.
"May we stay?" asked the harnessed boy. Tom nodded distractedly, his focus and anger drained away by the reminder that his son was gone. Somehow seeing the skitter had made it seem as though Ben was merely injured. It had eased the pain. Now it was back in full force.
"Did Ben have any friends with you guys?" asked Matt hopefully. The skitter and boy turned to look at him.
"Ben held himself aloof from us. He was wary of making friends with us. He wanted to remain unbiased." Matt nodded and looked down. Weaver and Hal carried the stretcher to the grave and gently lowered Ben into the ground. The grave wasn't very deep but it was deeper than Jimmy's had been. Weaver frowned when he thought of the contrasts between the two funerals. Jimmy's had been large, the whole Second Mass grieving together, filling the grave with handfuls of dirt. Ben was alone except for his family and the skitters. Maggie was here to support Hal. Dan wasn't sure why he was here. He had liked Ben but found himself unable to trust him after Jimmy's death. He hadn't exactly been comforting right before Ben met Karen either. Regret tightened his chest and he sighed, looking at the child lying silently in the grave. Tom had dressed Ben in new clothes to be buried in. He hadn't been able to find something dressy and so had settled for a green T, dark purple sweatshirt, and jeans. In his hands he clasped five silver dollar coins. Ben had always loved Greek mythology. Tom wanted to make sure that he had money to give to Charon the boatman if he needed it.
"Does anyone want to say something?" asked Maggie as they stared at the body, lost in thought. Tom coughed a sob and walked away, unable to bear it any longer. Hal watched as his father blundered away his shoulder's shaking.
"I don't think we're ready for that, Mags."
"I am," said Matt defiantly. He turned to look at his middle brother. "Just before you left you asked for my forgiveness." Matt's young voice was clear, strong, and filled with emotion. "Well you can't have it. You promised me when they first came that we would make it through this together. You ruined that! Why couldn't you have just waited? We would have found a way out. Even if we didn't we should have went together. All of us. You broke our family again. And I hate you for it." With that Matt turned his back on his dead brother and stalked away, his retreat quickly turning into a run.
"He didn't mean that," said Hal hoarsely, unsure whether he was speaking to the others or to Ben. "He's just upset. He didn't mean it." Hal shifted his gaze to Ben. "I'll take care of Matt and Dad for you little brother. I'm sorry that I didn't see before how miserable and afraid you were. I understand now that you were just trying to protect yourself and Karen and all the rest of us when you ran off with her. You shouldn't have had to take all that on by yourself. I'll miss you, bro."
"Farewell, Ben Mason," said the harnessed boy simply. "The rebellion is not as strong without you. You will be sorely missed; you will join the ranks of our legendary heroes." Weaver frowned trying to think of something to say. Words had never came easily to him and with a boy like Ben who carried so many prickly issues with him it was doubly hard. Finally Dan gave up the struggle and grabbed the shovel. Maggie leaned down reaching for the green blanket that would serve as Ben's shroud. Once he was covered Weaver started the grim task of filling the grave. Hal hugged Maggie close when Weaver tossed the first shovelful of dirt into the grave. Just outside the clearing Tom held his youngest and wept.
Hal watched as he father stood over his brother's grave, his face dry at last. Hal had sent Matt away with Maggie and Weaver electing to stay with his father by himself. "How are you holding up, Dad?" Tom shrugged, drained.
"My baby's gone." Hal patted his father's shoulder, unsure of what else to to. "I'm going to kill her, Hal." The eldest Mason son looked at his father quickly.
"Kill who, Dad?" Tom's face was strangely emotionless.
"Karen. I know you loved her at one time, Hal. But that thing is not your girlfriend anymore. She enjoyed torturing him. She smiled. I could see it on her face, Hal." The dark-haired youth looked away for a minute. When he looked back at the fresh dirt that covered his baby brother he knew his reply.
"I'll help. Karen's not Karen anymore. But she is at the same time. I see her in that thing. She killed Ben. I think that with the proper push she would have killed him even if she hadn't been captured. She was always a little scary like that." Tom nodded in agreement.
"She needs to be put down. We'll be smart about it though. No one else is going to die because of her." Tom sighed. "I only wish Ben could help us do it." Hal felt his throat tighten as it hit him once again that Ben would never again go on patrol with him. They would never laugh together or argue. Ben's life was over. And so was a large chunk of the Mason family's.
Time seemed to blur together after the funeral. Charleston had revealed itself to all too real, full of problems but full, too, of promise. Arthur Manchester, Tom's mentor, welcomed them with open arms. He had hoped for a political ally in Tom but found that the other man was far too withdrawn to be of use in such a way. Indeed since Ben's death Tom had lost himself in whatever cheap spirits he could buy from Pope. Weaver had fought to pull his friend from his depression but little helped. Tom stayed sober enough to go on patrols but that was all. Hal had found himself suddenly thrust into the role of parenthood for Matt and to some extent his father. Even Anne had little success in keeping Tom from his self-destructive spiral.
So it was that Anne fidgeted nervously, watching her lover pour a finger of bourbon before breakfast. "Tom?" asked Anne finally. He glanced at her quickly, still sober enough to pick up on the tiny shiver in her voice.
"What's wrong?" he asked gently, setting his glass on a small table and pulling her to him. "You've been acting off for the last week." Anne clasped his hands compulsively, her fear evident on her face.
"I have something to tell you, Tom," whispered Anne. "But I don't think that your going to like it." Tom tried to pull one hand free to reach for his glass but Anne held him tight. "I'm pregnant, Tom. I wanted to tell you when I first knew but I didn't know how to tell you." Tom leaned back from her, his face flickering with emotions unknown.
"Pregnant?" asked Tom finally. Anne nodded a tentative smile lightening her face.
"Are you happy?" Tom pulled free from her and went to his bourbon. Her heart clenched painfully as she watched him pick it up. "Tom?" To her surprise he went to the sink and poured the alcohol down the drain. He followed that with the rest of the bottle.
"I don't know, Anne. I want to be but I can't help but think of Ben. I couldn't protect him. I haven't been protecting Hal and Matt. Am I really fit to be a father again?" Anne took the empty bottle from him.
"You're getting off to a good start," smiled the doctor. Tom smiled weakly and patted her hand.
"I miss him," whispered Tom. "I wonder if he'd have been happy here." Anne laid her head against Tom.
"I don't know. But I think he would be happy knowing we were safe and had a chance at joy." Tom nodded.
Matt was quiet as he handed Pope a canteen of water. In recent weeks he had been given the mission of carrying food and water to the different sentry stations during the day. Usually he would be chattering away at Pope, cheerfully ignoring the other man's pretended disgust, but not today. Really, he hadn't talked much since Ben's funeral.
"You've been quiet for a while," said Pope his gruff voice lowered to just above a whisper.
"Haven't had much to say," replied Matt flatly, hoping to stave off the conversation before it started. Pope was not a man to be staved off.
"Come on, kid, usually I can't get you to shut up. What's going on in that little Mason head of yours?" Matt shrugged silently. Pope took a drink and tried a different tack. "So how's your old man and brother?" Matt started to walk off but Pope snatched his arm none too gently. "I asked you a question," said the older man threateningly.
"Fine, I guess. I don't see much of them. Hal's too busy going on missions, trying to find Karen. Dad's trying to quit drinking. Its not working."
"At least he's trying," replied Pope. "Thought he was gonna drink all my stash for a while there." Matt frowned trying to fight down the white hot anger that seemed to be his constant companion nowadays.
"You shouldn't have sold that to him," said Matt quietly. Pope scoffed.
"I've got to run a business, little man. That means selling to paying customers no matter what I think about them." Matt slammed his hand against the car they were camped beside.
"Bullshit," snapped the boy ignoring Pope's startled expression at the expletive. "You could have refused to give it to him. At least then he wouldn't be such a screwed up mess!"
"Hey, you'd better get a few things through your head," snarled Pope. "I'm not your daddy's babysitter for one thing. And another is that you'd best get off your high horse when it comes to your formerly esteemed father. You'd best be glad that Tom's even still alive because if it'd been my kid screaming like he was being skinned alive, let me tell you, I would have put a bullet in his head then I would have ate one myself." Matt scowled and looked away.
"If it was so bad why didn't you shoot Ben yourself? From what I hear it would have been better for him." Pope chewed on his mouth for a second, looking like he had bit into a lemon.
"I was going to, ok?" he whisper roared then looked around self consciously. "Weaver said no though. The man was foolish enough to hope that maybe some miracle would save your brother. He thought the little razorback's skitter friends would save him." Matt looked away.
"I hate them both," he muttered quietly, a private thought that burned at his soul so fiercely it had to be said aloud though he had no intention of letting Pope or anyone else hear.
"Well that's a real shame," said Pope, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Especially since your brother went to save you. I didn't like him, I didn't trust him, but even I had to give the kid props. The second Karen mentioned you he decided to go. I don't think you could count on anyone but your father and maybe Weaver to do what old Spiky did." Matt whipped his head back around, anger blazing in his dark eyes.
"He had a name! My brother had a name! It wasn't razorback or Spiky, it was Ben! Why can't you ever call him Ben?" Pope leaned back a satisfied look hidden in his eyes.
"You certainly sound like you hate him. Defending his honour though he's too dead to know it." Matt couldn't argue any longer. Tears in his eyes he threw an extra canteen at Pope's head so he wouldn't have to come back in the evening. Before Pope could recover from his hasty dodge the boy was gone, running back to Charleston. Pope rubbed his cheek where the bottle had grazed him.
"Well now you can't say I never did anything for you, Spik-Ben. Can't say that now."
A/N- Since Ben died before they arrived at Charleston and found out about the Overlord's weapon that needed to be destroyed (i.e. The one that was preventing the Volm from coming.) Red-Eyes and his gang attacked at great loss. They succeeded and the Volm came. This means Dai is still alive. During this time Tom has left his alcoholic haze and has become president (Yay Tom!). Everything has progressed as it would have if Ben had lived except that Hal is not a spy since he was never near Karen. Baby Alexis is also fine.
Deni sighed and rolled her aching shoulders. She had been on patrol for most of the last two days and now it was time to report in. Colonel Weaver was waiting for her in the command tent with Tom Mason. She liked the President of the New United States. He was more approachable than most of the higher ups and he didn't treat her like a freak. Mason looked exhausted, but that was pretty much the norm for the man. She'd never seen him look well rested.
"What's the report?" asked Weaver when the preliminary pleasantries were over.
"The perimeter is quiet, sir. The rebel skitters report though that eight clicks outside of the patrol zone there is heavy skitter presence." Weaver nodded digesting this new information. The briefing continued for another hour before Deni was dismissed. She accepted it gratefully, thinking longingly of a shower and bed.
"Deni!" called Mason's voice. "Do you mind if we talk a minute?" asked the President anxiously. Deni nodded trying not to let her worry show. It wasn't everyday that the President called her aside. In fact this was the first time they had spoken outside of briefings.
"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. President?" Mason ducked his head an embarrassed grin on his face.
"Tom, please, when we're just talking. I was wondering how you've been getting on since coming to Charleston. You look a little tired."
"Nothing a shower and bed won't fix, sir—I mean Tom." The President nodded quickly.
"Have you been getting enough sleep? We don't want to over work you." Deni shook her head quickly bemused at his sudden concern.
"The harness means I don't need as much sleep as other people." Mason nodded his gaze turning far away.
"If you need more time between missions, please just ask. Any trouble with bullies I want to know about that too." Deni nodded hesitantly, worried about this new attention. If it weren't for the spikes in her back she would worry that the President had an appetite for younger fare than Docter Glass but the spikes pretty much assured that no boy or man looked at her lustfully. Perhaps he was trying to gain her trust for some other purpose? Mason started to walk away but turned when she called.
"Can I ask what this is about, Tom?" Mason looked puzzled for a second then nodded understanding.
"You're wondering why the President would take a sudden interest in a young scout?" Deni nodded cursing her blunt boldness.
"You remind me of my son," replied Tom quietly.
"Hal?" asked Deni, taken aback. She couldn't think of a person she was less like. Hal was the alpha male type who teased her relentlessly in school. He was a good person but he had former jock written all over his commanding face.
"My other son, Ben," answered Tom quietly.
"Oh," said Deni lamely. "I haven't met him. I thought you only had Hal and Matt?" Tom winced a little.
"Not many in Charleston know about Ben. The Second Mass don't really talk about him much." Deni frowned, not sure she liked being compared to someone no one wanted to talk about. "He was harnessed like you. You would have liked him. Before he was taken he was a math geek, and loved to read all the time." Tom smiled fondly in memory. "When we got him back he was the same for a while. But then he had to grow up fast. He became a scout like you. He worked too hard like you too." Deni chewed her lip unsure of what to say. Tom pulled a tattered bit of paper from his pocket. He showed it to Deni. Drawn on the paper in pencil was a boy about her age. He was remarkably handsome with a strong jaw, short cropped hair, and cool eyes. He held a scouting rifle like it was a part of him as he stared off into the distance, presumably searching for enemies.
"An artist in the Second Mass drew this for me after... well after. Its really good, looks just like him." Deni took the drawing to study it more closely. The way he was turned she could just see the spikes on his neck.
"What happened to him?" asked Deni hoping that somehow the boy she was looking at wasn't dead.
"He was killed a few weeks before we reached Charleston. He never got to see this place." Deni glanced up, surprised to see the tears in the President's eyes. He wasn't a man who wept easily.
"How did he die?" Tom shook his head, taking back the drawing, staring at it like somehow it could bring his son back.
"I won't tell you that. That wasn't what was important about him. Rather, I'll tell you how he lived. You'll like that better, I think." Deni nodded and followed as Tom found a place to sit and talk. Late that night when she lay in bed she cried for the boy she would never meet. He sounded like the friend she had been longing for so many months. He sounded like the friend who would make her feel safe, the friend who may have someday turned into something more. Tomorrow she would ask Dai to tell her about Ben. She knew the Asian man had been part of the Second Mass, even now he held a position of authority. He would tell her what Tom Mason couldn't bare to. But no matter what Dai told her she would remember the figure on that tattered bit of paper. That was the Ben she grieved for.
A/N- The majority of this was written before the second episode even aired. I thought I had uploaded but evidently it didn't take. I didn't know until a week ago so I took the opportunity to add a few things I had forgotten to write. I'm very sorry for the wait. Please review and tell me what you think. If you'd like me to reply to the review (some reviewers don't like that so I generally don't) just end the review with RR. Thank you very much for taking the time to read, I hope you aren't disappointed! =)