AN: Thanks for the reviews last chapter everyone. And now that our fluff break is over, time to get to the regularly programmed drama.
Thank you to Greg for beta-ing!
LXI.
Several chess games gone by, Ben decided to give Jimmy a break, and demonstrated a few techniques instead. Jimmy opened another bottle of beer and watched with mild interest. He wanted to get the game, he knew what it meant to Ben, but he couldn't help feeling like a complete and total idiot, staring dumbly down at the pieces, a jumbled puzzle and he had no clue what the image was supposed to be. Ben seemed to enjoy giving the lessons though, and the way his features lit every time Jimmy remembered a piece's moves or a technique he'd just shown was enough of a reason for Jimmy to keep playing. Not enough of a reason to be sober doing it, but enough, anyway.
"Before…" Jimmy started, trailed off and sipped his beer. Ben peeked at him curiously; he hadn't spoken in the past ten or so minutes, mostly because Ben had been in the middle of explanations.
"What about before?" Ben prodded. He didn't look as though he really wanted Jimmy to continue the question and Jimmy frowned, toyed with the bullet around his neck.
"You said…um…that uh…on the bus, you said you'd been hurt…hurt before and I wondered…I just was thinking about it, was all," Jimmy murmured, took a few anxious sips of his beer, "I wanted to know who…or how, I guess. How you were hurt. Before."
"Oh," Ben mouthed, dropped his eyes to the board, absently moved a few pieces around.
Silence fell over them, ticked on for several minutes. Jimmy leaned back and took a large gulp of his beer. It was his third and last one, he could only sneak off with so many, and it was affecting him more than it should've been, his head swimming and eyes blurred. He supposed lack of water, food, and sleep probably had something to do with it, as well.
"I was never as popular as my brother," Ben finally said.
"We've established that," Jimmy put in, "Is that all? You were a dork, and it sucked? That's how you were hurt before?"
"No. I was a dork and nobody wanted to be with me," Ben grumbled, putting the pieces back into starting position and beginning a game with himself.
"Nobody? Like Lindsey."
Ben's eyes rolled up to jimmy's, his features blank and slightly perplexed.
"Where did you hear that name?"
"Nowhere. Matt said he saw you making out with some Lindsey person in the basement of your old house once. I take it things didn't work out? Did she break your heart?" Jimmy returned, made an attempt at teasing, but his words caught slightly in his throat. It bothered him more than he realized, the idea of this girl from Ben's past. He pulled his knee up to his chest, wrapped an arm round it, and rest his chin on top.
"No, she didn't," Ben muttered, glaring at the board, looking as though the pieces neatly lined up offended him in some way, "Kissing her…it was an experiment."
Jimmy perked a brow. Ben sighed, shook his head.
"She thought she might have feelings for me, wanted to test it out and that it didn't need to mean anything. That's what she told me, anyways, turned out she was just being her usual manipulative bitch self," Ben explained, "She was dating my friend, Marty, and she was looking for a way to stir up trouble. She knew if she told Marty about us kissing, and Marty confronted me on it, I wouldn't lie …and so she got what she wanted and I lost one of the best friends I ever had."
"Not much of a friend, believing a girlfriend over you," Jimmy commented, "Kind of stupid of you to kiss her though."
"What's so stupid about it? I felt bad for her. She said she was confused," Ben argued, "She said it was the only way to confirm it and that she didn't want to lead Marty on if she had feelings for someone else. I wanted to help her out."
"And," Jimmy prompted.
"And, I didn't want my best friend to get hurt."
"And."
"And…and I felt good when she said she had a crush on me and wanted to kiss me. It wasn't something that happened on a regular basis. Happy now?" Ben grumbled, slamming a pawn forward on the board and gesturing for Jimmy to move.
Jimmy leaned forward and pushed his own pawn two spaces ahead, taking another sip of beer and trying to ignore the pang of hurt Ben's hard-earned confession caused him. He was only torturing himself, he knew, asking Ben questions about previous loves. But, in a strange way, it dulled the pain that he'd felt since Ben brought up the 'love' topic.
"She was your first kiss," Jimmy noted.
"No," Ben whispered, hesitated his hand on one of his knights.
Jimmy glanced up and frowned, letting Ben's melancholy expression ache through him. There'd been someone else, Jimmy knew that the moment Ben mentioned being hurt before, but there was something about seeing it, seeing the emotions still stirring inside of Ben for this mysterious someone, that destroyed parts of Jimmy he didn't think he still had left. Ben's heart wasn't Jimmy's, at least, not entirely. He dropped his eyes to the board again, curled his fingers around the bullet. He wondered how much of it he really could claim as his and how much of the promised future on that bullet belonged to someone else.
"I've had crushes before, and sometimes I thought I had a chance, always turned out I was wrong. Rejection hurts, that's all I meant," Ben said, smiling softly up at Jimmy, "Doesn't matter anymore. It's the past. Right now, I love you. And the future looks pretty good to me, so you know, past doesn't matter."
"Right," Jimmy murmured, returning the smile and taking another drink of his beer, nearly sputtering it out when he caught sight of Tom walking their direction from across camp, swallowing down hard the bitter liquid in his mouth, and coughing violently, gasping, "Your dad."
Ben turned slightly to watch his father approach, greeting tersely, "Hey, dad, what's up?"
"I didn't know you were still playing chess these days," Tom noticed, "Where'd you get the board?"
"Community center we stayed at several weeks back," Ben answered easily, took his turn and sat back to look expectantly at his father.
Jimmy finished clearing his airway, and Tom glanced at him curiously, spotted the bottle he attempted to hide at his side. Tom made a face, lowered his eyes and picked up one of the chess pieces to examine it.
"You drinking, Ben?" he questioned offhandedly.
"Do I have a drink in my hand?" Ben returned, bewildered.
"Ben really wasn't drinking, sir, I swear, it was just me," Jimmy spoke up, fumbling the bottle between his hands, wide eyes studying the elder Mason, gauging his reaction. His heart pounded a rabbit's run in his chest.
"I realize I'm not in a position to tell you how to live your life, Jimmy, but I am in a position to tell him, and I would really appreciate if you didn't drink around my son," Tom stated in a hard tone, giving Jimmy a stern, concerned father's look. Jimmy felt the blood draining from his cheeks, he couldn't grab a breath. He nodded quick and short.
"Dad, lay off," Ben groaned.
"I'm sorry," Jimmy murmured, anxiously hurrying to his feet, "Maybe I should….um…go."
"What? No, Jimmy, sit down," Ben argued.
"It's fine, Jimmy, just don't let it happen again," Tom said, slightly softer, "Ben, we need to talk. Jimmy, would you mind if I had a moment…"
"No. We're in the middle of a game, dad," Ben sneered.
"You can finish it later," Tom argued.
"We can talk later."
"Benjamin…" Tom growled warning.
"It's okay, I'll go," Jimmy suggested.
"No, stay," Ben cried, exasperated.
Jimmy stood frozen, desperate to bolt and unable to leave Ben begging him not. He darted looks between the father and son, as both stared one another down, each challenging the other to flinch. It churned in Jimmy dark memory, of a life so faded now it felt like a dream. But this wasn't the same, Jimmy reminded himself, Tom moved heaven and earth for Ben; he cared, loved, and protected his sons fiercely, and it stung Jimmy to watch Ben be so callous towards his father, as though it were his own reaching hand being slapped away and not Tom's.
"Sorry, Ben, you need to talk to your dad," Jimmy whispered, taking a few steps back, letting Ben's hurt look of rejection seep through him.
"Thank you, Jimmy," Tom sighed.
Jimmy turned on heel and stalked several yards away, disappearing from sight around one of the trucks. Tom watched Jimmy's retreat, as Ben shook his head furiously, simmering glare on the chess board and jaw set firm.
"You know, Ben, I understand Hal, he's always felt the need to push, but your attitude lately has really got me baffled," Tom started.
"You didn't have to treat him like that," Ben seethed.
Tom furrowed his brow, nonplussed, "What are you talking about?"
"Just now, lecturing him the way you did, you humiliated him!"
"You're mad at me for saying something to Jimmy about the beer?" Tom gaped, readjusting his stance and folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, and for driving him off," Ben confirmed, "You had no right…"
"Excuse me, I had no right?" Tom cut in sharply, "I am your father. If someone is doing something around you that I don't like, and yes, I'm sorry, but that includes your friends, then, yeah, I have every right to tell them they need to knock it off. I'm glad that you are getting along with someone, I really, truly am, I know how hard it's been for you fitting in with others around camp, so I really don't want to jeopardize that for you, but if he does things I don't want you doing, if I feel like he's having a negative impact on you and your behavior, then, young man, you better believe you will not be hanging around him anymore."
Ben nearly bit his tongue, clamping his mouth shut tight on the harsh response itching to be shot back. He grit his teeth and curled his hands into ever tightening fists. He felt the white rage bubbling into the surface of his conscious thought, threatening to overwhelm him, and willed himself not to lose control around his father. He didn't want to hurt his father, he would never, but he felt certain in that moment, if he lost himself, he could, and very well would, kill the man.
"Is that what you wanted to talk about? Me hanging around Jimmy?" Ben growled in a low voice.
"No, it's not," Tom said, loosening his stance somewhat, "I wanted to talk about you, actually."
"My attitude isn't because of Jimmy, if that's what you think," Ben hastily said.
"I didn't think that it was," Tom admitted, frowned and mentioned, "I've heard that you've been patrolling regularly and helping fight in recent battles."
"I have," Ben looked up at his father and told him, "I'm pretty good at it too."
"I want you off the battlefield."
"That's unfortunate, because they need me on it," Ben dropped his eyes back to the chess board, "Was that it?"
"Ben, you've been through a lot because of these creatures," Tom pressed.
"So has everyone else," Ben muttered.
"And I don't want you to have to go through anymore. You're too young and you have been through a traumatizing enough experience already without having to add the stress of fighting a war on top of it. You are pushing yourself to a breaking point, Ben."
Ben remained silent, centered a few of the chess pieces in their squares.
"It's bad enough I got Hal out there to worry about, I cannot be worried about you too."
"Then don't worry about me," Ben suggested plaintively, "I'm not as young as you think I am. I can take care of myself, dad, I can make decisions for myself…"
"Decisions like teaching Matt to shoot a rifle?" Tom demanded haughtily.
Ben snorted softly, "Wow, it didn't take long for Hal to throw me under that bus. Let me guess, you were riding him for something…"
"Your brother told me because it was the right thing to do," Tom interjected, "Teaching Matt to shoot, goddammit, Ben, putting a gun in his hand, placing him on the battlefield, that is not your decision. He's your little brother…"
"Damn straight he's my little brother," Ben snapped, "And he should be able to protect himself, God knows you're not going to do it."
"Only thing in this world that means anything to me is you boys, and I would do everything in my power to protect each of you," Tom vowed.
"Really? How'd climbing on board that spaceship to 'protect me' work out for you, dad?" Ben challenged, "Because I'll tell you right now, it did a whole hell of a lot of nothing to protect me, or my brothers for that matter, from the Skitters that rained down on us while you were gone, that dogged us relentlessly so that we couldn't stop, we couldn't sleep, we couldn't breathe, killed off more than half our camp, it did nothing to protect me from the people around camp whispering behind my back, that I can't be trusted, that I should be left behind, that it's my fault people die, that I bring the Skitters to them. You weren't protecting me then, dad, I protected me."
"Ben," Tom whispered, pain etched in every line of his face.
"I protect me," Ben reaffirmed, a ragged edge to his words, "And I'll protect them too, because I can. And you can't. You're not capable. I am. You were wrong, dad. You're not in any position to tell me how to live my life. We're done talking."
Tom looked lost to the ground, dropped his arms to his sides. For a second, appeared every bit the defeated man.
"I truly hope you're right, son," he quietly commented, "Hal won't listen to me, he stopped listening to me when your mother died. Matt is telling me he's going to be a fighter; that he wants to go on the next mission, and somehow letting myself be taken by the enemy justifies all of you treating me like a stranger."
Tom shook his head, drew his breath in sharp and let it out slow, and ran his hand over his face.
"I haven't slept for a hundred years, and I won't sleep for a hundred more," he murmured, blinked a few times and frowned, "I did what I thought was right for this family, to keep you safe. You'll always be my son, Ben, and I will always be your father. Sometimes you have to make decisions that will hurt the people you care most about, break promises in order to keep others. One day you'll be man, and you'll understand that, but it's not today."
Ben turned his face away, and listened to Tom's departing footfalls. After a few staggering heartbeats, he turned round again, gazing distantly out at the lacrosse field, clutching the side of the cold metal bench he sat on. The other boys had long since retired to the locker rooms to shower and change. Coach and a few boys that had volunteered to help, were busy clearing the equipment from the field. Coach paused to stare at Ben a moment. He plopped his meaty hands onto his hips and tipped his head to one side, grimaced because he knew he might be forced to touch base with a student and he hated nothing more.
"Mason, what are you doing? You need to turn in that jersey," he barked out.
Ben blinked away the tears he felt forming, too long gazing at the sun brightened horizon. He shifted, lowered his eyes and pulled his shoulders back, swallowed a deep breath, short on air it seemed. It burned the whole way down, the way it did after an asthma attack. His head pounded violently, in the way he imagined it might feel split open by a battle-axe.
"I'm lost," Ben whispered, studied his surroundings in utter confusion, and told coach, "I don't know why I'm here."
He knew this wasn't the place he'd been, but then, where else was he? He felt unsteady, and as though the world was fuzzy around the edges. Was this a dream? Was this a hallucination? It couldn't be real, could it? But then again, it felt real, it looked real, it tasted and smelled real. What else could it be but real? Somewhere, somewhere, bloodcurdling screams ripped through his mind. Somewhere, distant fantasy, or was it reality, beckoned him. Wake up, wake up, wake up…
"Neither am I," Coach replied earnestly, crossing the field to stand over Ben, "You should've listened when I told you to leave, saved yourself the embarrassment. I don't know what you were thinking, what you thought you might prove, trying out for the team."
"That this isn't all I am," Ben mumbled, sniffled and wiped a hand over his eyes, smeared the unshed tears, "That I can do more. Be more."
Coach sighed haggardly, dropped onto the bench beside Ben.
"I know it sucks being the handicapped kid," Coach started.
"I'm not handicapped," Ben protested.
"Sorry. Kid with a handicap," Coach amended, and Ben scowled but let him continue, "Look, I'll be straight with you, alright. I've struggled with my weight my whole life. I got 'tub-o-lard' and 'beached whale' a lot when I was a kid, so you know, think about that, it could be worse. I learned to work around it. I couldn't eat everything the other kids could. It sucked, but I came to terms with my limitations and now look at me; perfect physique. It ain't easy, some days I just want to pig out on potato chips and ice cream, lounge on the couch, but I manage. You can't breathe too great. Okay, it's not fair, but, hey, at least it's not all hanging out there for everyone to see. You got dealt a bad hand. Pretending you didn't isn't going to change things. You got to learn to accept your limitations, Mason, and work around them. You're not going to be a lacrosse star like your brother. Is that really the worst thing in the world?"
"I don't want to be a lacrosse star. I just want to play," Ben said, aware of how childish he sounded, but he didn't care, what dignity did he have left to worry about?
"Right," Coach sighed, "Well, that's not going to happen either. Suck it up, Mason, and go hit the showers."
Coach went back to clearing the field. Ben waited until they finished, until the air grew cold and dark, until he was sure the locker room would be clear before going to shower. Inside of the locker room, he found his locker open and clothes missing. He followed the trail of his homework to the bathroom, where his backpack lay with its contents strewn across the ground and his missing garments soaked in slightly yellowed toilet water. He wrinkled his nose and bit back a cry of frustration. He barely acknowledged when another figure joined him, peeked over his shoulder.
"Man, that blows," Ben's friend, Crumb, commented.
"I thought you left already," Ben mumbled.
"I was waiting for you," Crumb explained.
"Did you see who did this?" Ben wondered, not that it made a difference. He couldn't do anything about it. His options were tell Coach and get another 'suck it up' pep talk, tell his parents and look like the world's biggest baby, or tell his brother and look like he couldn't fight his own battles. He couldn't, but he wasn't about to admit that to Hal. He'd never live it down, the rest of his life.
"Usual suspects. Terry, Oliver, Malcolm, a couple others. I would've tried stopping them, but you know how it is, they'd of thrown my clothes in next week," Crumb slapped Ben's shoulder good-naturedly and offered, "I have a t-shirt in my locker you can borrow. It hasn't been washed in a while, but, you know, it hasn't been marinating in piss."
"Thanks," Ben murmured.
The t-shirt was oversized, draped off Ben's slender form, billowing like a dress. It had a Slayer emblem on and the smell was horrific, Ben almost would've preferred the piss. He stole a trash liner for his clothes, considered tossing them when he got home, but knew his mother would notice in a heartbeat if anything was missing from his closet, most of all, his favorite t-shirt. His parents and brothers didn't know the binary across its front translated into a dirty saying and something about that made him feel like a hidden badass, and not the cowardly dork he knew it really made him.
"Want to come with me to Harnessed?" Crumb asked.
Harnessed was their local comic book and gaming supply shop. Ben hadn't been there in over a month, and his friends were constantly pestering him to join. They were worried about him, they all used to practically live there together.
"They got a shipment in today," Crumb enticed, smiling winningly.
"I don't know," Ben said, lifting the plastic bag a bit, "I think I'll just go home. If I hurry, I might be able to wash these before my mom and dad get back. It's been a long day, I don't feel like dealing with their questions."
"Makes sense. Parents are so nosy. Lately my dad's been wanting to do these father-son bonding trips. Last weekend, we went camping. It was a three hour drive to the site, we listened to Chicago the whole way out," Crumb replied.
"Tough break, man."
"Tell me about it. I can't get the sound of my dad singing 'If You Leave Me Now' out of my head. It'll probably go down in history as the second most traumatizing thing to ever happen to me," Crumb continued, "First, of course, being when my mom made me wear that pink shirt with the lime green tie for picture day last year and they used it for my high honors display picture."
"Yeah, it was on the wall outside the principal's office all year, I remember," Ben smirked, rubbed his nose where his glasses set and meekly asked, "I wasn't that bad, was I?"
"You didn't die, so there's that. Coach said if you died, he'd ban you from the field, you know, forever. You couldn't even come to games and watch. What made you try out this year, anyhow? I mean, couldn't you just be equipment manager again?"
"Would you be equipment manager again if they filled your locker with jock straps every week?" Ben demanded, frowned and added, "I want to play. I've always wanted to play. It's our last year and my last chance. I would never have a shot on a high school team, they only want the best. But middle school teams take players that are about mediocre, and I'm 'okay'. At the very least, I know which end of the stick to hold and which direction to run to score a goal."
"I don't know why you're so determined to be someone you're not," Crumb said.
"I don't know why everyone feels like they know who I am," Ben complained, "I have to go. Thank you for the shirt. I'll return it tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, okay," Crumb agreed, watching concernedly as Ben stalked off down the street.
.
.
.
AN: Right, more reasons for readers to hate Tom. I don't know, I think he's trying to be a good father in the midst of a crisis, but people rarely agree with me and always agree with Ben, so, I give up attempting to play devil's advocate on that front. Tom sucks, there you guys go, you all win. I'm beat. Also, I underestimated how many more chapters I have left to write. I got about seven ahead, and I got maybe seven more left. Why is it that ten chapters in my mind always turns into twenty on paper? Eh, I'll learn brevity when I have an editor.
Thanks for visiting. Please drop a line, let me know what you thought of the chapter.
Reviewers: JoshDeakin1989, aww, I'm glad you liked it. I can't really play chess either, but that doesn't stop me from trying. I got en passant down, not entirely sure on castling still, something about moving the king towards the rook with no pieces between. Meh. Yes, I'm glad you liked their talk too. They try to forget the past, move beyond it, but who they are now and how they act is directly effect by who they were and what happened to them before. Ryan and Gary will definitely have changed in some ways, not so much in others. LuckyDream91, okay, funny story. Not really funny. Anyhow, back when I wrote the chapter with Matt and Jimmy playing chess, I recalled the scene where Jimmy was playing chess on the bus in that episode, when he went on patrol and the mech struck. It's one of my favorite episodes. Highlights Jimmy, you know :) . But I wasn't sure if I was making it up or it actually happened, or they were playing another game, and I was superimposing my vision onto that scene, or confusing it with Lost, and Locke playing backgammon with that kid. So, I went and read like three different recaps of the episode, told myself if it was a real scene, I'd throw in the name of the guy who died and mention that Jimmy was originally learning from him. I couldn't even find the guys name and no mention of chess. With no way to rewatch the episode, I decided fuck it, I'd already put a disclaimer on First Patrol and (maybe, can't remember, probably not) this story that I didn't do much research to double check facts. I'm not writing this for money, just entertainment, so 100% accuracy wasn't going to happen. Sorry. It's good to know though. Glad you liked the bullet necklace! I meant to build it up more, but you know, other things happened and story got ridiculously long. NOxONE, hehe, yeah, the boys definitely deserved a few moments peace and quiet to breath and enjoy one another's company. Especially considering...yeah. Dee, no you hadn't reviewed yet, and I was beginning to worry you wouldn't. I would've been really sad if I hadn't heard from you. I tend to read your reviews a couple time, and they usually prompt me to reread the chapter, because it makes me see things in a different light sometimes. Yes, that moment and the bullet are definitely going to be important to Jimmy throughout the next part of this story. It does represent Hope, I hadn't thought of it that way. Jimmy's own interpretation, I would think, in accepting it, it became about obligation, he made a promise and now he has to keep it. It's his duty. I think you'll see what I mean in later chapters. Ah yes, as for Jimmy's death in regards to the actors. You know, the actor's feelings was one of my first thoughts when they killed him off, and few people think about it maybe, but when a character dies, it is in a lot of ways like the actor getting fired. I can imagine, especially for someone as young as Dylan, that the immediate thought is "what did I do wrong", you know, "was I not acting well enough, was I not a likable enough character?" I thought he did a really great job, hell, I stopped watching because they killed him off, and his character did have the most potential for an interesting story. It's not one that's really ever been told, at least not in a sci-fi television series; an orphaned teenager in a warstruck world, no connections, no family, struggling to survive and become a hero in his own right, forced to form new bonds and create new families. I know Spielberg has a hang up about fathers and sons, which shows through pretty heavily in the series, and Rodat is all about the military stuff, which also is themed heavily in the series, but it would've been nice to see them break away from their usual plot threads. I'm sure they do slightly regret any characters they killed off, there's always potential, but it is a sci-fi, and if they really wanted to, they could find a way to bring them back. It's mentioned before that people thought Maggie might be a gay character, which I always knew she was a love interest for Hal, the moment she was introduced, so I didn't get that and I honestly didn't really see Jimmy as meant to be a character with a crush on Ben in the show, maybe a man-crush more than anything, though I saw where slash writers (like myself) could easily turn the story into that nature. It wasn't until Compass that I said, fucking bastard writers could've told a really beautiful love story between those two boys, and then decided to do it myself. First Patrol, after all, was a knee-jerk reaction to Jimmy's death. I never saw Falling Skies as being a show that would feature a gay character, and that's because of the names attached to the project, Spielberg and Rodat are not known for writing on "controversial" topics but instead focus on tried and true themes that have permeated our societies for generations. They don't ever try to push the envelope, which has always been a bit of my own problems with Spielberg's work (never much been interested in anything Rodat has done), that it's a nice feel good story, but never makes you feel anything extroadinary in the end. I don't know, maybe that's just me, well it's not, I've talked about it with my boss before, and he's the one who pointed it out to me when I was trying to express why I didn't fully love the things Spielberg did. Oh well. I know gay characters aren't really all that controversial anymore, but sci-fi tends to take *forever* to catch up to the rest of the world on what's normal, which is sad, because it's not how the genre used to be. It used to be interested in progressive speculation about the future, plots that made you think that this isn't how the world should be, and now it's the place where bigots and sexists hide. Facepalmer123, thank you, I'm glad you liked it. I'm a sick twisted person, to be honest, there's no getting around that. I like torturing characters, and causing emotional pain to the people who love them, if not to make the sweet moments like the one last chapter all the sweeter, because you know something terrible is going to happen, so you savor it to the last drop.
Thanks for dropping in people. I have to get dressed and ready for my day, so take care everyone and I'll see you next week!