A/N: Sorry it's late. I was contemplating adding more to the chapter, but I'm just going to have to pick up the scene next week.
Thanks for the reviews you guys.
And a big thanks to Greg for beta-ing.
LVII.
By the time Ben reached camp with the four young survivors, Hal had obviously arrived earlier, spread word about their coming, as a small crowd of curious onlookers were gathered. Doubtless, many of those watching the jeep's approach were parents missing their children, hopeful they might recognize one of those refugees. It wasn't entirely out of the scope of possibility, Ben supposed, but the chances were pretty slim.
Diego parked, turned off the engine. He surveyed the group, guarded, one hand clutching the pistol, his other holding Jeanne's. The two in the back waited for their "mom" and "dad" to give sign that it was all safe. Ben hopped out of the jeep, scanned the surrounding faces. On the outskirts, he spotted his father, leaning heavily against a post. Dr. Glass had mentioned she wanted to try getting him up and about. Somehow, he looked worse than he had when they'd first brought him back to camp four, now five as dawn cracked over the horizon, days ago. Weaver marched towards the newcomers, as well, a couple officers flanking him on both sides.
Amongst the crowd, Ben also caught a glimpse of Jimmy, though the other boy quickly ducked out of sight the second Ben spotted him. Ben sighed, ignored the cinch on his heart. He could, and would, deal with it later; he had to settle Diego's crew into camp. From the expressions on their faces, it wasn't going to be easy.
"Dad," Jeanne suddenly cried out, "Dad!"
Ben startled round in time to see the young woman tear out of the jeep and push through the crowd. She thrust her arms around Weaver's neck, the captain stood stunned for a brief moment, then realization seemed to sink in, and he eagerly gathered her up into a tight embrace, blinking as tears began to form. A rash of whispers broke out amongst the 2nd Mass. Ben perked a brow, darted a look to an equally dumbstruck Diego. Okay, maybe it wasn't as slim a chance as he'd originally thought.
Barely ten minutes later, Weaver had whisked Jeanne away to the captain's tent for catching up, and Ben oversaw Dr. Glass examining Julian as Diego and Hal spoke nearby, and Will nibbled on jerky Hal had given him. It seemed Hal and Diego were getting along now, sort of made sense, they were around the same age and thick-headed assholes had a tendency to stick together. Ben snorted softly, folded his arms across his chest and set his jaw, meandered back towards the older boys.
"I thought you said your parents were dead," he commented. Hal paused whatever he was saying and Diego tilted his head towards Ben.
"Actually, I never said that," Diego pointed out, "But if we don't know where are parents are, in this world, they may as well be dead. For the record, my parents are both dead. Saw them die with my own two eyes. Anything else?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, you stole our bike and in exchange, we're giving you aid, supplies, treatment."
"And we're very grateful," Diego bit out.
"Then stop acting like a world class jerk," Ben hissed.
"You first," Diego returned.
"Okay, time out you two," Hal interjected, putting a hand on Ben's shoulder, as though he could actually hold Ben back should Ben decide to put a fist through Diego's face, "Ignore my brother. He's a little…ah…frustrated right now."
"Shut up," Ben groaned. Last time he ever confided in Hal about his relationship.
"What? You are. And taking things out on Diego isn't solving anyone's problems. Least of all yours," Hal said.
"Girl trouble," Diego surmised.
"Something like that," Hal grinned mischievously and Ben shot him a warning look, "It's his first love."
"Who's first love?" Tom interrupted as he limped round the corner.
Hal winced and Ben scowled, rolled his eyes as his father placing a hand on his shoulder, looking expectantly between the two boys.
"You have a crush on someone, Ben?" Tom questioned, and though he kept his tone light, a smile swelling with pride warmed his features.
"No," Ben grumbled, squirming out of his father's grasp, "Hal's just being a jerk."
"Really?" Tom persisted, "Because it seems like he's only being a jerk because you having a crush on someone."
Hal ducked his head and Ben frowned, tightened his arms across his chest, and set a glare on nothing in the distance.
"Alright, I get it, last person you want to tell is your father," Tom sighed, his proclamation hurting Ben more than he could ever know, as he turned his attention to Diego, extending a hand, "I'm Tom, Hal and Ben's father. I understand you're in charge of the refugees hiding out in the district?"
"That's correct," Diego confirmed, accepting Tom's hand, "Your son promised us supplies."
"Did he?" Tom perked a brow at Hal and Ben, "I really don't have much control over our stores, to be honest, and I understand we don't have a lot to spare, but I'm sure if you speak to the captain, he'll try to send whatever supplies he can your way. If you don't mind, could I have a word with my sons?"
"Right," Diego muttered, stalking away towards the younger boys.
Hal and Ben turned twin questioning stares on their father.
"Which one of you wants to explain how you got a 2nd Mass bike stolen from your care by a group of small children?" Tom asked in a low voice when Diego was out of hearing range. Hal pulled himself up as tall and straight as he could, his eyes flashed, and the muscle in his cheek twitched ever so slightly. Ben sighed, he knew the look on his brother's face and braced himself for the inevitable argument.
"Unbelievable. You're back less than a week," Hal growled.
"This is serious," Tom cut in, "You let your guard down out there, Hal, things could've turned out far worse. You had your brother with you. If something had happened to him…"
"Great," Ben grumbled and said sternly, "I can take care of myself, dad."
"That's yet to be seen," Tom said.
"You would have seen it, if you hadn't climbed on that ship," Ben returned.
A silence fell over them, only broken by the crunch of approaching footsteps. Jimmy rounded the corner, met Ben's eye, the expression on his face ambiguous, but definitely not one of panic, and Ben's heart leapt exhilarated clear into his head, pounding erratic tempo. It wasn't an accident, Jimmy being there. He wasn't so careless, especially when he avoided Ben, which only meant that he'd sought Ben out. Only five days later and he finally wanted to talk. Or possibly better, make out. Jimmy opened his mouth to say something then clamped it shut hard when he noticed Tom. He paled considerably, dropped his eyes.
"Hey, Jimmy," Tom greeted, voice a bit edgy from the argument with his sons, "Did you need something?"
Me, you need me, Ben silently commanded the other boy, say it, damn you. Out the corner of his eye, he could see Hal shift uncomfortably, glancing between Ben, Jimmy, and Tom. The older boy knew a train wreck about to happen when he saw it.
Jimmy peeked up at Tom, fidgeted with the hem of his shirt sleeves and took a tiny step back. Ben mentally cursed the entire universe, bitterly wishing the aliens could abduct his father again for an hour or something. It took five fucking days for Jimmy to work up the courage to confront Ben, and in less than five minutes Tom was going to scare him off, probably for another five days. What the hell was the point of fathers?
"No…nothing," Jimmy quietly stammered, stumbling back another step and murmuring, "I should…I didn't mean…"
"You sure you're alright, Jimmy?" Tom questioned, furrowing his brow, "You keep acting stranger every time I see you."
Hal cleared his throat suddenly, and spoke up, "Oh, that's right. You're supposed to show Ben the M14 rifles. Right, Jimmy?"
All eyes flickered momentarily to Hal then fixed back on Jimmy. Jimmy stared speechless at the Masons, mouth slightly agape. He made a small, almost inaudible noise in the back of his throat, gave a short, quick nod. It was obviously taking everything he had not to bolt right then.
"Show me what with the…." Ben started, utterly confused, but faltered when his brother elbowed him smartly in the side, hastily amending, "Yes. Yeah. Those. Right. I got to do that now, dad. Because Jimmy is…here….now."
"Show Ben the M14 rifles…?" Tom repeated, examining the three boys dubiously, while each attempted to look less suspicious than the next.
"You know, to set up and aim and shoot. All of that," Jimmy mumbled, "They're good, long range weapons…Ben needs to learn. How to shoot. One."
"And since when are you cleared to teach someone use of a rifle like that?" Tom wondered, eying Jimmy scrupulously. Jimmy flinched at the unintended insult to his skill, dropped his gaze, and Ben bit down hard on the instinctual verbal lashing that sprung to the tip of his tongue, poised to rip his father apart.
"Oh, you know, dad, since you climbed aboard the enemy space ship and abandoned your sons," Hal commented with a scathing nonchalance.
"That's not fair, Hal. I don't know, Ben, I don't really like the idea of you learning to shoot a sniper rifle from a thirteen year old. No offense, Jimmy," Tom said, though the words very clearly hurt Jimmy.
"He's kind of the best sniper we have. There's no one better in the 2nd Mass to learn from," Ben sneered, "And he's fourteen, dad."
"Okay, fine, I'm sorry, but I also think we need to talk…" Tom continued.
"We can talk later," Ben argued, "Jimmy only has right now to show me this weapon. And which do you honestly think is more important in the middle of a war, dad? Me learning to shoot a rifle that could potentially save my life later, or having a warm, fuzzy conversation with my dad about how sorry he is for leaving. I get it; you did it because you love me. Can I go now?"
Tom sighed, "Okay. Go ahead."
"Thank you," Ben grumbled, sounding anything but. Briefly, he met Jimmy's eyes, then Jimmy turned away, and together they wove a path through camp.
Jimmy led the way, he seemed to have a destination in mind. Ben didn't care where they went, he was just overwhelmed with happiness to be close enough to touch Jimmy. He almost ran into people three times, even tripping up over a debris pile, because he couldn't pull his eyes off the other boy, wanting to soak up as much of the image as possible out of fear it would be yanked away again without warning. They came to an abrupt stop, and Jimmy gestured the First Night parked on the fringe of camp. Much to the relief of many hormone-raging teenagers around camp, because of its large carrying capacity, the tinted bus was one of the vehicles salvaged during the community center attacks. Luckily, it didn't see much use during the early morning, the door was wide open signaling the bus unoccupied.
Slipping in proved more difficult than normal but not impossible. They climbed aboard separately, and Ben secured the door shut behind them. After getting walked in on by Lourdes and her boyfriend, Ben made certain to learn if the bus door had a locking mechanism and exactly how to use it. Of course, as it clicked into place, he realized he wasn't entirely certain if they would need it. He had no clue what Jimmy wanted to talk about. He'd been so blinded by the other boy's sudden presence that he hadn't considered the news might be bad. It was likely they weren't about to make up, so much as, break up. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, Ben turned around to face whatever fate awaited his heart.
Jimmy sat on the edge of a seat midway to the back of the bus. He had his arms folded across his lap, and leaned over them, seemingly fascinated by the silver ridges on the floor. Ben let a few seconds pass in silence, then staggered reluctantly down the aisle and took a seat a few rows away from Jimmy.
"How crazy is it that we found Weaver's daughter?" Jimmy quietly mused, and Ben smirked but said nothing, "It's funny, that divorce seemed like a bad thing before the apocalypse, and now it leaves you with the awful uncertainty of whether your family is alive or not."
"He knew that his other daughter was dead," Ben commented, frowned and shook his head. It came out wrong. He felt disappointed that it seemed Jimmy finally sought him out just to talk about Weaver's reunion with Jeanne. Yet, somehow, it was just like Jimmy to tiptoe around the topic at hand and dwell on things that all at once barely affected them and altered their lives entirely.
"Is it wrong that I always kind of wished my parents were divorced?" Jimmy questioned distantly.
Ben sat up a bit, wrinkled his brow in concern, remained silent. It wasn't exactly the turn he'd expected in Jimmy's preamble.
"I had a friend, you know, before. His parents weren't together," Jimmy went on, sniffed and slumped forward more, hair tumbling across his face, "I always kind of envied him."
"Why?" Ben asked, and even as the word tumbled of his tongue he knew it was a stupid question.
"I guess I couldn't expect you to understand," Jimmy muttered.
"I'm sorry. That's not what I meant," Ben hastily replied.
Jimmy shook his head, fell silent, and after a few seconds, Ben moved a couple seats closer.
"Parents can be rough."
Jimmy snorted softly.
"My parents were always easier to handle when they were together," Ben continued, leaning forward, attempting to catch Jimmy's eye, "Kind of like, they balanced each other out. Whenever my mom was being hyper overprotective, my dad would remind her to let us breathe, and whenever my dad was being a know-it-all, she'd put him in his place. It's a pain, dealing with my dad, without her…"
Jimmy peeked up at Ben, a silent exchange of emotion, passing sympathy, reminding themselves and each other that they'd both lost. For that moment, Ben's confession and the past few days of anxiousness and despair melted away, things felt the way they did in an abandoned ranger's post month ago and miles behind them. What they were to each other didn't need a label and emotions didn't need to be spoken aloud, given names, they just were and everything felt right and perfect. But Ben knew they couldn't hide in the woods forever.
"I couldn't deal with my parents period," Jimmy admitted, then in a softer tone, "And they couldn't deal with each other."
"They argued a lot," Ben surmised.
"No," Jimmy said, and Ben made a soft noise of surprise, "They compromised. At least, that's what my mom called it. Basically, my dad would forget about us all the time and my mom made up excuses for him. Then he would pretend to be sorry and she would pretend to forgive him."
"Jimmy…"
"What if I'm wrong?" Jimmy said, catching Ben off guard.
"Wrong about what?"
"About you. About this. I don't know what I'm doing," Jimmy met Ben's eyes, and for perhaps the first time, Ben could really see how lost the other boy was, and it rippled through Ben a tidal wave of emotion, "I don't know if I can do this, and if it turns out that I'm wrong, that this is wrong, I don't know if I can…"
Jimmy dropped his eyes, furled his hands together nervously, and Ben waited, breath bated.
"There's a point that we can't return from and this is it," Jimmy determined. They sat in silence a few seconds, mulling over Jimmy's words. Then Ben stood and walked to Jimmy's seat, gently gestured the other boy to scoot in so he could plop down. They sat side-by-side, quiet for another short time.
"I'm scared too," Ben admitted.
Jimmy winced, frowned.
"Really doesn't help that you're not exactly making things easy on me, either," Ben commented.
Jimmy scoffed, "Then why bother? If I'm so difficult..."
"You're not so difficult," Ben smirked, "Loving you is surprisingly easy. It may be the easiest thing I've ever done in my entire life. You make everything else difficult though. You just have to fight me the entire way."
Jimmy shook his head, picked at the cloth on the seat in front of them.
"How do you know? That that's how you feel? How are you so sure?"
"I just am. I just do," Ben shrugged, "I'm happy when I'm with you. I'm sad when I'm not. You're my first thought in the morning, my last thought at night. I have every textbook symptom and then some. Do I need to tell you about how I haven't eaten since the last time we talked or are you getting the picture?"
"I don't know if I…I just don't want to be wrong."
"You don't have to say it back," Ben whispered, tentatively slipping his hand into Jimmy's, twining their fingers, "So long as you say you're okay with me saying it, I'll be happy."
"I get to decide when," Jimmy said.
"Of course you can decide when you want to say. There's no pressure," Ben furrowed his brow, befuddled by the non-sequiter comment.
"No, I mean, when we tell your dad. I get to say when, and how we word it," Jimmy clarified, tightening his hold on Ben's hand and murmuring, "And we're not telling him that you…we're not saying that."
"What? That I love you?"
"Yeah. That. We're not telling him that," Jimmy persisted.
"But…can I at least tell you that?" Ben wondered.
A bit of color tinged Jimmy's cheek, and he swallowed hard, shrugged and stammered whisper, "I can't really stop you…."
Ben grinned, nuzzled Jimmy's neck and brushed a kiss across his skin. It wasn't the orchestra swelling in the background scene Ben had fantasized about, but it was more than he thought he could hope for, and, in the end, he still had Jimmy which was all that really mattered.
"Deal. You can have whatever you want, babe."
"Okay," Jimmy smiled, giving Ben's hand a squeeze, "You know, I think you make me have to be difficult."
"Really? Why?"
"Because you're way too easy," Jimmy muttered.
"Right. And now I have to crush you," Ben decided, mock-angry. He slumped suddenly, crashing his entire body across Jimmy and knocking them back against the side panel of the bus
"Shit, Ben," Jimmy gasped, fighting back best he could, squirming beneath the dead weight on top of him, "You're heavy! Get off."
"Nope. I'm not letting you go this time," Ben replied cheerfully, maneuvering against Jimmy's flailing limbs to pin the other boy by his wrists. Jimmy faltered, slightly out of breath, hair and clothes mussed, realizing his struggles were futile. Ben grinned, kissing Jimmy on the mouth.
"You're such an asshole," Jimmy complained, accepting another kiss and swiping his tongue across Ben's top lip for good measure.
Ben deepened the kiss, prying Jimmy's mouth open and driving his tongue inside. His slipped his hands from Jimmy's wrists and smoothed them across Jimmy's chest and sides. Jimmy whimpered, pushed Ben back a bit out into the aisle, and pulled himself up to sitting again. He met Ben's eyes, a look of earnest.
"I'm sorry," Jimmy said.
"If that's an 'I'm sorry we're not going to have sex right now because of…insert ridiculously lame excuse here', then you really ought to be talking to my very blue balls," Ben growled.
"Wow, I don't even know how to respond to that," Jimmy muttered, made a face, and shook his head, "What I mean is…I'm sorry for…I'm just sorry in general. I'm sorry for being difficult, I'm sorry things aren't easier, I'm sorry that I doubted you…"
"Whoa, wait, when did you doubt me?"
"On second thought, forget I said anything. Let's have sex," Jimmy swiftly closed the distance between them, arms laced round Ben's waist and kiss firmly planted to Ben's lips.
"You know, sex cannot be your get out of jail free card forever," Ben warned, between breaks for air, and then he dove back in for another taste of Jimmy's mouth and tongue.
.
.
.
A/N: So...they shouldn't fight again for several chapters. Things will be fluffy and wonderful, as best I can do fluffy anyways, and then we'll move into more serious stuff again that will make everyone unhappy with me.
Let me know what you think, please. Otherwise, something bad might happen. I kid. Or do I?
Reviewers: Dee, late is better than never. And the thought and time you put into your reviews certainly entitles you to be as late as you need or want. I had a hunch you might love the Jimmy/Maggie moment. He may break her heart soon, though. He does that. I never much considered Maggie letting Jimmy bunk with her, but you're right, jimmy would never agree to it. I loved all your thoughts on the chapter! You probably haven't read anything else I've written, I'm pretty all over the map when it comes to fanfiction writing, and most of my other stuff is in cartoon categories. :) Because I'm a child at heart. I guess it wouldn't hurt to share a few of the ideas I'd had that may not, or definitely won't ever get written. I thought about doing a retcon of the AU no-alien-invasion storyline, where freshmen in highschool, Ben transfers to Jimmy's school and Ben finds himself drawn to Jimmy, who seems rather intent on a path of self-destruction, but I decided to refashion the plotline as an original story. We'll see how that goes. One of the original sequel ideas I had for First Patrol was: a falling star offers Ben the opportunity to rescue his father from the aliens through sacrificing himself, a cost Jimmy fears Ben may be all too willing to pay; the title Fire Light originally came from it, but I chose to follow the cannon storyline a little more closely instead. I also thought about the third installment being after the aliens are defeated, Jimmy and Ben go on a roadtrip to put Jimmy's family members to rest, but then scrapped it when I realized how I wanted this story to end and it wouldn't fit. And then, there was one really angsty piece I might write, takes place after Compass, Ben slips into a deep depression where the only salvation he finds is in sleep, when Jimmy meets him in dream. I thought it would be fun to juxtapose the harsh reality of Jimmy's loss with a disjointed dreamworld where things are bittersweet, but I think I saw a story with a similar summary. Someone's been hacking my computer perhaps and perusing my brainstorming notes. Hm...it would only have one possible ending also that many people may not like. And then, there's the dark future fic, which I'll start posting after I finish this. There's other things but those are ideas that mostly got tossed. Facepalmer123, hello, thanks for stopping in. An awkward turtle, huh? Well, I'm glad to know you're always lurking anyways. Though, I do like hearing from you every now and then.
And that's that. See you all next Sunday.