A/N: Thank you to the reviewers and a thank you to Greg for beta-ing.
XXII.
Because of the spikes it hurt Ben to lie on his back. Though they were filed down as best they could be, at the right angle and with the right amount of pressure – surprisingly little – they could tear through fabric and other textiles with an unfortunate ease. Since getting the harness removed he'd ruined a lot of blankets, sleeping bags, t-shirts, cots, pillows, and sheets. It served as a lingering reminder that even something as simple as sleep came with a price for a half-alien, and it left him wondering how high the price something more complicated – like, say, love – would be.
Jimmy had left the tent shortly after 'making up' with Ben. He'd claimed he needed to take a walk, clear his head and sort through everything that had been discussed, of course he hadn't said this in so many words, it actually went more along the lines of, 'I need a smoke', but Ben understood the underlying message: Jimmy needed to get away – away from Ben – to process.
Ben understood, sort of, Jimmy's need to analyze his emotions before accepting them. Understanding didn't make it hurt any less, but it certainly helped keep him calm and rational despite.
Ben had collapsed across his sleeping bag the moment Jimmy slipped from the tent, burying his face in his arms and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to get his own bearings straight after the heated encounter. He thought of the confessions that had come out, and flinched, realizing how close he had come and how miserably short he'd fallen of three stupidly complicated, misleadingly simple little words.
If he had to be honest, they had been on his tongue, lined up at the tip, ready to shoot forward in the confusing blur of the moment. Hell, they had been on his tongue for days, weeks, who-the-hell-knew-how-long, in the brevity of those sweet moments when he was allowed to hold Jimmy in his arms, or in the long drawn out moments apart spent silently hoping, wishing, desperately praying to be reunited soon with Jimmy, and it was actually becoming physically painful holding the words in.
And what if they did come out? What if he did say those words? Ben groaned, propping his chin up on his folded arms and glaring at the crumpled corner of his sleeping bag. Though he had used a damp rag on the outskirts of camp to hastily clean up, he was still sticky with blood and ichor, and still reeked of Skitter innards.
Ben drew his brow together, pressed his lips into a thin line, and dwelled momentarily on the events miles outside of camp. Three dead Skitters was hardly a loss in the world, but he couldn't help connecting the missing chunk of time with the horribly sickening moment when he'd grasped Jimmy by the arm and violently wrenched him back into place.
Ben shifted, stretched his arm out in front of himself and flexed a hand open and closed a few times, turning it over to examine its contours. Though he recalled his emotions at that moment, pure rage, he couldn't remember much else. One moment he was upset because Jimmy wouldn't listen to him, was disregarding him and his judiciously upset emotions, and the next, Jimmy was crying out in pain and he was the reason.
Three dead Skitters, Ben closed his eyes and curled his fingers tightly into his palm, three little words with a price set far too high.
Ben collapsed into his arms again, rubbing his face haggardly back and forth a few times and grunting against the skin. He was agitated because of the promise Jimmy forced him to make: stop hunting. He could already feel the adrenaline coursing through him, the energy bouncing uncontrollably through his veins. An argument, a couple chaste kisses, and already Ben felt on edge, despite having only just returned from a hunt and a long run. He was getting worse, he couldn't deny that anymore.
Ben sighed, pushed himself up and gracefully rose to his feet. He would visit the showers, then, another heavy sigh, visit Dr. Glass.
Outside, the damp gray haze of early morning had settled across the horizon. A few of the 2nd Mass civilians were beginning chores for the day. They paid Ben little heed when he passed by towards the community center. The showers were thankfully empty that morning. He drenched his upper body with cold water, soaking his sullied shirt, and knocking the icy droplets off with a swipe of his hand then swiftly exited the community center once more.
Though they were in the middle of the autumn months, and the layers of clothes people had taken to wearing evidenced that the temperatures had dropped dramatically in recent times, Ben didn't have much regard for the climate. His alien-altered body seemed to retain heat more easily and though he acknowledged the cold, he sensed it almost distantly as though he were recalling the feeling of being cold and not actually experiencing it at that moment; he didn't quite feel it anymore. Moving across the front lot of the community center towards the medic van through the chill air in a light t-shirt, his upper body clearly saturated, he managed to cause a few double takes from civilians in passing, but no one's attention lingered long on him. Just the half-Skitter freak behaving like a half-Skitter freak, nothing to raise alarm about.
Ben rapped the medic van's side door then waited a few seconds for a response. He could hear rustling inside, and though he wasn't so adept with his 'super' hearing that he could easily identify who was in there, he could definitely discern that it was at least a person. He knocked again, and waited. Footsteps slowly padded that direction and the door flung open, a groggy Dr. Glass peering out through squinting eyes.
"Ben," she greeted around a wide yawn. She brushed her hair from her face and folded her arms over her stomach, "Sweetie, what are you doing here so early in the morning?"
"I didn't mean to wake you," Ben replied nervously. He was never certain how to behave in front of the doctor, because of her role in camp she knew more about him than possibly anyone else, and that in and of itself was somewhat unnerving, but then there had also been something unspoken but undeniably sexual between his father and her that, in light of his mother's too recent death, he wasn't entirely certain he approved of, "I can come back later."
"Oh no, you're fine…please, come in," Dr. Glass instructed, moving aside and ushering Ben up the tiny steps with a quick wave of her hand. Ben obliged, clambering into the van and the door whacked shut behind him.
The 'medic' van was really an old Winnebago, gutted of most nonessential parts and refashioned for the 2nd Mass's purposes with a couple extra cots, cabinets, curtains, and such. Medical miscellanea lined the walls and were stuffed in the overhead compartments. The place usually smelled of blood and bleach, sterilizers, gauze, ethanol. It really was a dreary place but, despite its homey appearance and clinical odor, Dr. Glass spent more time inside of the medic van than anywhere else in camp.
"I fell asleep out here," Dr. Glass admitted, stretching her arms to the ceiling and causing a series of cracks and pops along her spine and shoulders. From the sounds and looks of things she didn't fall asleep lying down. She finger brushed her hair quickly and attempted in vain to straighten out her disheveled garments.
"That happens a lot lately," Ben noted quietly, and she glanced at him curiously but remained silent, his eyes dropping sheepishly to scan the medic van floor. He didn't feel like following up that peculiar comment with the explanation that he could hear her in the medic van sleeping; she was a smart woman, she could surmise as much on her own.
"Yes, well, I've been working late in the night, recently," she explicated, "I'm the only legitimate doctor for miles around and, unfortunately, I am trained as a child's physician. Luckily, I guess if you want to see it that way…well, majority of the 2nd Mass are children, but not all of them, and most medical needs that arise are beyond the scope of a physician's work, so, you might see how that poses a bit of a problem."
"Yeah," Ben allotted.
Dr. Glass motioned to the thick tomes that lined one of her shelves, and then pushed her long, loose, dark strands of hair absently behind her ear and leaned against the countertop that lined part of the van and was the remainder of the 'kitchen area'.
"I've been staying up reading when I have the time," she continued, "Trying to bulk up my knowledge on more relevant medicine."
"Makes sense," Ben said, and then smirking distantly, wondered in a humored tone, "You didn't happen to stumble across any passages about 'alien genetic engineering', did you?"
Dr. Glass grinned, bit her bottom lip to stifle back her laughter, and shook her head, joking, "I haven't yet, but you will be first to know when I do."
"Darn," Ben mock admonished, "Really could use that information right about now."
"Oh?" Dr. Glass straightened, her features contorting into grave concern, "What's going on? Is everything alright? Have the spikes been acting strangely? Have you noticed any change-"
"Calm down, I'm okay," Ben interrupted sharply, holding his hands up in surprise at the sudden tumult of questions. He shrugged, wandered to one of the cabinets and poked about disinterestedly, as he quietly confessed, "I've just been feeling weird lately, more restless than usual."
"What do you mean by 'restless'?" Dr. Glass prompted, as she found her stethoscope draped across a coat rack and tossed it around her shoulders, crossing the van towards Ben. He watched her movements warily from the corner of an eye, keeping his attention for the most part focused on the items in the cabinet; vials of various liquids labeled with names he didn't recognize and probably couldn't pronounce.
"Just…a lot of energy; I've been sleeping less," Ben answered, stepping away from the cabinet and meandering towards one of the cots, partially fibbing, "I've been going out running a lot. I run farther and longer every night, and it doesn't seem to be helping." He sighed, lowered his eyes as a bit of color touched his cheeks, "…and I'm worried about Jimmy."
Dr. Glass perked a brow, folded her arms over her chest, "What's wrong with Jimmy, sweetie?"
"Well," Ben murmured, fidgeting with the bedspread on the cot, his heart pounding in his ears, his cheeks especially red, "When I get restless sometimes…I go see him…and…well we…"
"Oh," Dr. Glass interrupted, flustering though only slightly, she was still a professional after all, "I see."
"Yeah," Ben cleared his throat, and ran a hand along his neck, avoiding the few spikes jutting there as he whispered, "It was okay at first, but now…" He closed his eyes, and sniffled loudly, "I'm wearing him out."
"Has he said anything?" Dr. Glass questioned gently.
"No," Ben muttered, and then shrugged, "It's Jimmy. He won't say anything. But I know that it's hard on him. I can't help it though and..."
"Ben, sweetie, if it's not a problem for him," Dr. Glass began tentatively.
"What if it becomes a problem for him?" Ben cut in, spinning to face Dr. Glass, "What if something happens to him because of me? Because I can't control…?" He trailed off and dropped his eyes to the ground, "I just wondered if there was something you could do…about the restlessness…"
"I'm not sure," Dr. Glass admitted. She pursed her lips together, and studied Ben a moment, "I could run a few tests…but the best I can suggest is to keep doing what you're doing. Find ways to burn off the excess energy. I'm not sure entirely what that harness did to you or the others, what it's continuing to do to you. I wish I had the resources to find out but…"
Ben shook his head and ran the back of his hand across his mouth, then nodded stiltedly.
"Yeah, I figured you'd say that," he retorted, sounding far harsher than he intended.
Dr. Glass was only trying to help and it wasn't her fault that she didn't have the equipment necessary to better examine his condition. The best she could manage was a check of his vitals and an offering of sleeping aid, not that she would offer, there was no telling how the medication might affect his altered physiology.
"Do you talk much with the others?" Dr. Glass inquired, and Ben startled, glancing her curiously. He didn't have to think hard on who she meant by 'the others'.
"What for?" he demanded.
"Comparison of symptoms, maybe," Dr. Glass answered easily, "Moral support mostly. You're all going through similar, if not the same exact things. I know that your life is very confusing right now; your body isn't your own anymore. You all went through things that no one but one another could ever understand. I know that Rick and you feel more cut off from the other four, they lost their spikes and whatever the harness did to them, if anything, seems minimal at most, but they suffered too. It might help you to overcome some of those apprehensions, maybe to better understand the changes or try to work through them, if you discussed it with others that are going through the same things."
"I don't need to talk about it," Ben said firmly.
"Sweetie," Dr. Glass started, then sighed and shook her head, "I know talking is the bane of any teenager's existence. You would much rather suffer silently than expose those emotions and worse, leave yourself vulnerable to scrutiny, but you are a smart kid, Ben, and I know you realize that there are certain benefits to letting it out and there are undeniable detriments to keeping things bottled inside."
Ben scowled an unintended reaction to Dr. Glass's advice. Dr. Glass sighed, leaned back again and stared distantly at Ben a moment, examining him, assessing him.
"Do you talk about it with Jimmy much?" she wondered.
Ben relaxed slightly at the shift of conversation back to the somewhat comforting topic of his lover. He shrugged; it was the best he could manage because there really wasn't an answer. The two boys talked often, on occasion the harness came into their conversations, but they never really spoke directly about it.
Admittedly, Ben didn't want to talk about it with Jimmy. Jimmy accepted that Ben was once harnessed and he tolerated the spikes, and Ben couldn't be more thankful of that. It had to be difficult for the other boy to look past them, they weren't exactly an attractive feature, but Ben didn't really want to push the limits of that acceptance and toleration. Simplest terms, Ben didn't want to find out what Jimmy really thought of the spikes or of him as a 'razorback'.
Not to mention, Jimmy had enough hardships on his shoulders without Ben tossing his own troubles on top of the load. He wanted to lessen Jimmy's burden, not add to it.
"Ben," Dr. Glass chastised, "You cannot keep this up. If you need someone to talk to…"
"We talk about it," Ben interrupted, lying through his teeth, "Jimmy and me. We talk about it. A lot. And he's great. Or as great as he can be…it's Jimmy. Were you going to run tests now or….?"
Dr. Glass looked skeptical but, to Ben's relief, didn't press the matter. She motioned for him to take a seat on one of the cots and rummaged in the cabinets for various items.
"I'll do a standard check-up and then draw some blood, alright? I don't have many options when it comes to tests I can run on your blood-work but…I'll make do," Dr. Glass said as she pulled up a chair beside Ben and settled in for the examination.
Dr. Glass started with blood pressure, pressing her fingertips gently to Ben's wrist and counting as she watched the second hand tick by on her watch, then she felt Ben's lymph-nodes for abnormalities and any swelling, then placed her stethoscope center of his chest and then either side of his mid-back and listened to his heart and lungs. Every so often she would pause and jot something down, routine physician behavior.
For the first several minutes as she worked, Dr. Glass remained relatively silent, issuing brief, soft commands when necessary and though Ben found the quiet unnerving, it was not as discomforting as any conversation he imagined they could possibly hold, especially not after the one they'd just had.
"How is Hal doing?" Dr. Glass questioned and Ben flinched involuntarily.
"Okay, I guess. Why?" Ben returned.
"I haven't seen him in several days," Dr. Glass answered earnestly, recording notes on Ben's condition and smiling faintly up at him, "I worry about you boys…what with your father…" she faltered, focused her attention back to her writing.
Ben felt a cinch on his heart and a strange rush of anger flood his body.
"We're fine. You don't have to worry about us," he snapped.
Dr. Glass fidgeted with her pencil a moment. Her gaze, set on her notes, was slightly unfocused. She drew her breath in deep, let it out slow, and then nodded thoughtfully.
"I don't mean to overstep," she apologized, "Your father has been a good friend to me in the past and I promised him-"
"It's okay," Ben cut in sharply, keeping his eyes locked on the cabinet across from him, avoiding looking at Dr. Glass altogether as he spoke, voice stiff and perfunctory, "Hal and I are both fine. And we're grateful that you help watch Matt. Thanks. You needed to draw blood, right?"
"Um…yeah," Dr. Glass murmured, setting aside her notes and fumbling for a fresh needle. She unpackaged it and motioned for Ben's arm, expertly locating a vein and sliding the needle in. It pinched slightly, but Ben barely registered the pain. He rarely noticed most pain those days, and even then it had to be drastic; just another after effect of the harness.
Dr. Glass contained and labeled the drawn blood, putting it aside with Ben's paperwork. She swept her hair back with both hands and smiled at Ben.
"All done. Vitals seem…normal…normal for you, anyhow," she announced, "I'll take a look at the blood later today. There's an empty nurse station in the back of the community center, I keep thinking I should set it up as a temporary medic office, but then I keep worrying if I do we'll-"
"Need it?" Ben suggested. Dr. Glass smirked glumly.
"Yes, and then we'd have to leave in a hurry," she confirmed, "Did you need anything else, sweetie? Any questions, concerns?"
"No, I think that's it. Thanks, Dr. Glass," Ben muttered, standing and starting for the exit. He paused, turned slightly back and Dr. Glass perked an inquisitive brow at him, "Actually….you don't…maybe…have anything for sore muscles, do you? Like an ointment or anything?"
"I do," Dr. Glass said brightly. She crossed the van to one of the cabinets and dug around inside, producing a small red and white tube. She handed it over, and instructed in a half-teasing tone, "Apply as needed to the affected area. Return it later, okay?"
"Yeah, I will. Thanks," Ben murmured, pocketing the item, "I'll…um…see you."
He didn't await a response, clambering hastily out of the medic van and letting the door thwack shut behind him. Outside, he started back to his tent only to pause a few meters short as he caught sight of a familiar form slinking out of the community center and striding towards the outskirts of camp. His brow pinched together in confusion even as a broad grin broke across his features.
"Hey, Jimmy," he called out and the other boy stumbled to a halt, eyes darting agitatedly around before ultimately stopping on Ben.
"Hi," Jimmy whispered greeting. He folded his arms over his stomach almost protectively, his muscles were all visibly held tense, and his chin tipped low and eyes flickering back and forth every so often. He seemed a little worked up, which was understandable, he'd gone to see Weaver about his current – or by now former – assignment.
"How did it go?" Ben wondered in a sympathetic tone, bridging the distance between them.
"Fine…it went okay," Jimmy stammered response. He took a couple steps back and Ben halted his advance, watching the other boy warily.
"Was Weaver mad?" Ben asked, worry quaking in his words. Weaver's opinion meant everything to Jimmy, if the captain had shown or verbalized any discontent in Jimmy's decision to back out of his assignment, it would crush the boy.
"Uh…no…not really," Jimmy carefully answered, examining a patch of dirt, as he cleared his throat and whispered, "He actually wants us to go on a supply run tonight at a shopping complex nearby."
"Us?" Ben repeated, gesturing between himself and Jimmy questioningly.
Jimmy nodded confirmation and Ben grinned.
"Really?" Ben exclaimed, "That's awesome. I've been so bored at camp since he cancelled my op."
"And grounded you," Jimmy murmured.
"Yeah and grounded…" Ben faltered, slumping his shoulders and wincing as he realized he hadn't exactly shared that information with Jimmy, "Oh."
"Yeah," Jimmy agreed.
"I was planning on telling you about that," Ben hastened to explain.
"It's fine," Jimmy cut in, insisting, "It's really okay. There was…uh…no time to talk about it. You can tell me about it later…" He paced away a few steps, rubbing the back of his neck absently.
"Okay," Ben conceded, relieved if not incredibly surprised that his failure to mention sneaking off in the middle of an op to hunt Skitters and being duly punished for it wasn't about to turn into another blow up, "Later it is then. Erm…what time do we leave?"
"Just as soon as I…uh….tell the others in our group about it," Jimmy meekly replied. Ben frowned slightly.
"Oh, others. Great. Of course. Who else is coming with us?" Ben questioned, then pleaded, "Please tell me not Hal."
"No…not Hal…." Jimmy meandered away then turned back and wandered aimlessly towards Ben again, pausing a few feet short and hanging his head as he studied the toes of his boots.
"Good. I can deal with anyone else but Hal right now," Ben lamented.
"We're taking the other unharnessed kids," Jimmy mumbled.
Ben faltered. He had to repeat Jimmy's words in his mind several times before he could even begin to process their meaning, so of course, in his brief disorientation, he dumbly asked, "What?"
Jimmy tilted his head to the side and watched Ben, his eyes wide and shimmering some odd, almost frightened emotion.
"Roman and his lot," Jimmy quietly clarified, "They're coming with us."
"Why?" Ben demanded, heat rushing straight to his head. He narrowed his eyes on the other boy and folded his arms across his chest.
"Because, it's what Weaver ordered," Jimmy answered forcedly nonchalant. His words were growing softer, beginning to waver and crack.
"Why?" Ben seethed.
"Because…." Jimmy murmured, shrugging, "They need the practice…and…this way I…uh…can drill them on…scenarios…and…battle…tactic stuff…"
Ben had to choke down several breaths before he could even attempt speaking. He ran his hands over his face and stalked back and forth a few times, his entire body felt as though crawling with ants.
"This is how you stop training the unharnessed kids? By taking them on a practice op?" he growled.
"I know, Ben, I just…." Jimmy fumbled for explanation but couldn't seem to find one, so he fell silent, glaring miserably at the ground.
"Just what? Goddammit, Jimmy, what the hell happened in there? What did you tell Weaver? Did you even bother telling him anything at all?" Ben cried, "This isn't even remotely what we agreed."
"I…well…" Jimmy opened his mouth, closed it, and buried his face in his hands, "I don't know."
"Obviously," Ben griped, "How exactly do you mix up 'Weaver, I can't train them' with 'Weaver, send me out into the battle field with them'?"
"Would you calm down, please," Jimmy hissed, glancing nervously around camp from behind his palm, as though expecting to find a crowd of onlookers, "So things didn't go quite how I planned in there, it's not the worst thing that could ever have happened."
"Or maybe it went exactly how you planned," Ben retorted.
Jimmy's brow cascaded together, a strange flash of pain cut across his eyes.
"What is that supposed to mean?" he demanded unsteadily.
Ben shook his head, balled his hands into tight fists, anger bubbling through him like acid in his blood. There was a taste, almost metallic, in the back of his throat, and a sort of ringing in his ears. He could feel that static in the distance, pushing out the hairs at the base of his neck.
"I think I was pretty clear on my meaning," Ben grit out.
"You think I planned for Weaver to send us on this op?" Jimmy whispered stunned, "What the hell? Why would I….?"
"Why would you agree to train them in the first place?" Ben asked heatedly.
"I told you-"
"Bullshit," Ben snapped, "You really expect me to believe that you just took pity on them?"
Jimmy flinched, shuddered and pulled his arms tighter around himself, mumbling, "What other reason do you think I would have?"
"To get Weaver to stop giving me missions," Ben said, "Stick me on the sidelines."
Jimmy lowered his eyes to the ground, his mouth parted slightly. It was the only confirmation Ben needed, and it ripped right through him. He turned his face away, glared at the line of houses across the street from the community center. What exactly did a relationship mean, what did any of it mean – 'lover', 'boyfriend', whatever the words were – if one was trying to undermine the other?
"What time do we leave?" Ben questioned.
"Whenever we're ready…" Jimmy mumbled.
"And how long will we be there?" Ben pressed.
"Three hours at most."
Ben nodded, "Good, plenty of time."
"For what?" Jimmy wondered, peeking up at Ben, his expression a mix of confusion and fear.
"For me to go hunting," Ben coolly replied.
"But…you promised…" Jimmy stammered.
"No. We had a deal. You didn't keep your end, but I'm still expected to keep mine?" Ben scoffed, "I don't think so. We'll do Weaver's stupid practice mission, and then I'm going out hunting. Alone."
"Ben," Jimmy whimpered, "Please don't…"
"Don't you have a unit to debrief?" Ben snapped, agitated by the emotional break in Jimmy's soft voice and the way it cut right through him, the jagged edge of a hot, serrated knife, splicing his heart, "Let's go find the others then and get this the fuck over with."
Jimmy seemed on the verge of saying something, his jaw slightly slack, his feet firmly planted to that one spot on the ground, but seconds ticked by and not a single sound escaped his throat. Finally, he slumped slightly, and turned, haggardly crossing the campgrounds.
Ben watched Jimmy's retreating form a moment, let several feet span between them before following after.
.
.
.
A/N: See, I mentioned in an earlier a/n that they kept fighting. I swear, I couldn't get them to stop.
Please let me know what you think!
Reviewers: IcicleLilly, I'm happy the finals and semester are over too! So far, I've gotten one A back. Hope yours went okay as well! Sassysavanna190, lol, yes, Ben was not happy. And Roman is a bit of a sly one...FacePalmer123, that was my other assumption. Fandom's getting a bit stagnant...I didn't understand half of what you're message said but I gathered you became interested in some other fandom. Which is fine, I can understand that. I hope you do catch up on reading someday, I'll miss your reviews. JDMlvr1, good prediction, no make-up kisses. Maybe next chapter? Haley, I missed you last chapter. Glad you liked it! Cookie97, it's okay, I'm just glad to know you're still reading!
Uh...quick announcement that will make no one happy. I am going to be taking a hiatus on updates over the Christmas holiday. So the last update this year will be on the 23rd, and then I won't update again until Jan. 3rd of the new year, assuming we don't all perish on the 21st (I jest, of course, world's not ending. Put the ten-year-long supply pack of toilet paper back on the shelf). I plan on hopefully getting this story completed in that time so that I can come back updating more frequently, but plans have a way of...falling apart, so we'll see how that goes.
Otherwise, I'll see you guys on Thursday!