AN: Thank you to the reviewers. And thank you to Greg for beta-ing.
LXVI.
The night they reached the new location, an abandoned airplane hangar along a dirt road off the main highway, Ben and Jimmy went hunting. It marked their first hunt together in a long time, though Ben had gone alone often in recent days. It felt appropriate, Ben thought. By the next night fall, Tom would know about their relationship, and Ben hoped, in his father's knowing, they wouldn't be hiding in storage closets and empty buses around camp anymore, just for the sake of stealing a kiss.
It took two hours and four miles of hiking before they found a target: three Skitters and a Mech. They were staked outside a construction site that looked as though it had been abandoned long before the war, simply a metal frame and some rotted building materials, no heavy construction vehicles around, though it was possible they were taken by refugees.
Jimmy was wary; they only brought a small explosive, just in case they were forced to fight a Mech, not to intentionally pick a fight with one. They weren't even sure if it could destroy the Mech, slow it down yes, but destroy it? Getting the one explosive was difficult enough. Without a supply of Mech piercing bullets, Dai kept an especially close eye on all other materials capable of taking the metal monstrosities down.
"I could just lure it under there," Ben suggested, pointing to a stack of precariously placed steel T-beams along the top corner of the building's frame, "You blow up the corner, where that frame is welded together, about five tons of metal comes crashing down and crushes the Mech."
"What stops it from crushing you?" Jimmy demanded.
Ben smirked, "I'll move out of the way, genius."
"Oh yeah, I'm the 'genius', huh? Because this plan is so flawlessly brilliant, what could possibly go wrong?" Jimmy muttered sarcastically.
A few hours later, they were inside Dr. Glass's medic van. Jimmy held a blood drenched rag to his head and Ben fumbled for an excuse as to the cause of Jimmy's injury when neither boy was even supposed to be on patrol.
"…the thing is that we were…um…doing stuff, nothing, you know, bad or anything and, this thing kind of just happened, we didn't do it or cause it, it just happened, and he got hit with something, and well, now he's bleeding," Ben said.
"You're an idiot," Jimmy complained, then winced, because talking moved muscles in his face which pulled at his gaping wound and caused insurmountable pain.
"Oh really, asshole? How about next time I tell you to 'duck', you actually do it instead of just standing there, asking me 'why'," Ben shot back.
Dr. Glass folded her arms across her chest, and glanced between the boys, "I'm not going to get a real explanation about this, am I?"
In unison, both boys shook their heads 'no' and she sighed, stepped forward and gently peeled away the rag to inspect Jimmy's injury, Ben peering anxiously over her shoulder. She clucked her tongue, and put the rag back into place.
"Well, you're lucky," she told Jimmy, "Whatever it was that hit you, only clipped the side of your head."
She pinched Jimmy's arm and slapped Ben's shoulder.
"Ow, what?" Jimmy griped, as Ben shied away, made a face.
"Five centimeters to the left and we wouldn't be having this conversation, you understand me? You need to be more careful, and you, Ben, you need to watch him better."
A bit pale, Ben nodded. Jimmy slipped his hand over Ben's and gave it a comforting squeeze.
"Sometimes, I swear, even after everything that's happened, everything we've seen, you kids still all think you're invincible. For now, it doesn't look too deep; I don't think you'll even need stitches. Let's get it cleaned up, though, okay."
Dr. Glass crossed to the cabinetry near the front of the van and plucking out a couple bottles, clean rags and bandaging, she paused, considered Ben standing intently nearby, gripping Jimmy's hand, and fussing over the injury.
Dr. Glass smiled, lifted the items she'd grabbed and asked, "Ben, did you maybe want to…?"
Ben perked at that, "Can I?"
"I don't see why not, it's just a little scratch," Dr. Glass determined, "Besides, Jimmy's a veteran fighter, he's put his life on the line for the good of humanity countless times, I think he deserves to have a cute nurse tending to his wounds."
"Awesome," Ben grinned.
Jimmy rolled his eyes, "Don't put that idea in his head, doc, he already nags me enough about my health and all that crap as it is."
"Here, you can put these on the table there," Dr. Glass said, gesturing the bottles, gauze, and bandages, "And all you'll do is just put a little iodine on the cotton and…"
"I know, Dr. Glass, I got this. I aced every one of my first aid quizzes in health class the semester before the aliens invaded," Ben eagerly chirped, taking the items from Dr. Glass as he spoke, "And, at camp they had junior ranger class, and first aid was one of the lessons they did. I took it every summer and I always got perfect scores and the camp nurse even let me help teach the first aid class once, because I knew everything."
"I see," Dr. Glass smirked, "I never knew you were so savvy with emergency care."
"You went to camp," Jimmy said, wrinkling his nose.
"Yeah, a lot of kids I knew went to camp. You didn't?" Ben replied, daubing some iodine on a cotton ball. He positioned himself in front of Jimmy, removed the rag, gently swept away loose strands of hair, some sticky with blood, and began carefully cleaning around the wound. The 'little scratch' was about three inches long and had been oozing blood when it first happened, but was already beginning to seal.
"Waste of money," Jimmy answered, adding offhanded, "According to my dad. He said that summer camps were a load of bull; people would spend a lot of money so their kids could sit in cabins in the middle of the forest making friendship bracelets and call it roughing it. He used to say he'd take me camping, teach me how to really survive in the wild, but it never happened."
"I make really great friendship bracelets," Ben said, prepping another bit of cotton, "I should make you one."
"I wouldn't wear it."
"Yes, you would," Ben insisted, "Because it would be the best thing you'd ever seen. You'd never want to take it off."
"Seriously, man, stop making me jewelry," Jimmy muttered.
Dr. Glass covered a smile, glanced over Ben's handiwork.
"Not bad," she commented, lightly touching Ben's shoulder in passing, "I should put you to work in here, you could be a candy striper."
"What is that? Like one of the guys selling popcorn in the stands at baseball games?" Jimmy wondered, hissing in shock when Ben began cleaning out the inside of his cut.
"Sorry, baby. Candy striper, it's what they used to call a hospital volunteer, keeps the elderly company," Ben explained.
Dr. Glass went to pick up one of her medical texts, intending to continue reading it, when the door of the van swung open. Everyone startled, looked to the entry to see Tom climbing the steps, Matt in tow. Jimmy tensed, flustering, and Ben frowned, glaring intently at the injury as, rigidly, he continued cleaning it.
Tom glanced at the boys, puzzled. Matt, on the other hand was nonplussed, he casually wandered over and took a next to Jimmy, curiously watching his brother work.
"What happened?" Tom asked.
"Did Jimmy almost die again?" Matt quipped.
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Ben said.
"Again?" Tom echoed.
"No," Jimmy groaned.
"It's nothing serious," Dr. Glass cut in, "There was a little accident, but he's fine."
"What kind of an accident?" Tom demanded.
"I'm not entirely clear on the details," Dr. Glass answered, looking expectantly to the boys, "Did you two, maybe, want to take that question?"
"Like Dr. Glass said, dad, it was just a little accident," Ben grumbled, tossing the cotton ball he was using and retrieving a tube of antiseptic cream. He squeezed a small amount into his palm, and used his finger to smooth some over the cut.
Jimmy squirmed, all too aware of the intimate position he and Ben were in, and Tom's inquisitive stare.
"Shouldn't the doctor be doing that, Ben?" Tom mused.
"It's just a scratch, dad. Dr. Glass doesn't need to be bothered over every little thing, does she?" Ben returned smartly.
"And because Ben wants to kiss it better," Matt teased in a low whisper.
"Shut it," Ben grumbled, smacking Matt upside the head.
"Ben, don't hit your brother," Tom chastised.
"I was just telling Ben he should be my intern," Dr. Glass spoke up, joking, "He seems to know his way around a cotton ball and he's got good hands."
"Yeah, I do," Ben whispered, smirking suggestively down at Jimmy. A bit of color rose to Jimmy's cheeks and he rolled his eyes.
"Gross," Matt muttered under his breath, making a face at the two.
"What did you need, Tom? Or were you just here for a friendly visit?" Dr. Glass asked, smiling sweetly up at him through her lashes.
"Can't it be both? I couldn't be a friend that needs something?" Tom returned coyly, crossing the medic van to continue his conversation with Dr. Glass in a lower voice, not that it kept Ben from clearly hearing their entire exchange, "I only wanted to see if you needed any help settling into the new camp. Did you want to move any of the equipment in to the hangar? You could choose whatever area you wanted…?"
"I guess that'll depend on Weaver. Do we know how long we'll be here?" Dr. Glass replied.
"Depends on the weather. If things get a lot colder, fast, we won't be able to stay here," Tom said, wrinkled his brow, and softly asked, "You're warm enough at nights, right?"
"Oh, is that a big concern for you?" Dr. Glass teased.
Ben twitched, just slightly, but enough that Jimmy noticed and frowned questioningly up at him.
"I just…was…that's not…um…" Tom flustered, picking up an empty box of cotton swabs and toying with it a moment, putting it down, "Anne, I wanted to…" he darted a look to his sons, and said, "We should talk later."
"Okay. Whenever. I'm always here," Dr. Glass said.
"I should get back. There are a lot of arrangements to make," Tom declared, making haste to the exit, "Matt, are you going to hang out with your brother?"
"Yeah, dad," Matt said.
"Ben, will you…?" Tom started.
"Actually, dad, can we talk?" Ben interrupted, meeting Jimmy's eyes briefly, only mild panic lighting their cool blue, and then he looked to Tom.
"Sure. Right now?"
"No," Jimmy bit back the word, winced, and lowered his eyes, as Tom darted a curious look to him.
"Not right now, there are things that you need to do, and that I got to do, but I mean, like, later tonight," Ben clarified, "Like about six…"
"Seven," Jimmy hissed quietly, holding the bullet up to his mouth and clacking his teeth against its shell.
"Seven," Ben amended, "Seven is better. Will you be available or…?"
"Can't we talk about it at dinner?"
"No, it's private," Ben snapped.
"Oh, okay, uh…could we do eight then? I'm swamped right now, Ben," Tom said.
"Eight is good," Ben agreed.
"Alright, we'll talk then," Tom conceded, bounding out of the van, the door thwacking shut on his shout of, "Be good, boys."
"What are you two up to now?" Dr. Glass wondered.
"Not your business," Ben said keenly, finishing up bandaging Jimmy's forehead.
"We're telling Professor Mason," Jimmy mumbled, hesitating, and nearly choking on the last words, "About…us."
"Really? That's great," Matt exclaimed, "Because I swear, if I get kicked one more time under the table at dinner just for mentioning Jimmy, I'm telling dad."
Ben gathered up the medical supplies and went to return them to their cabinet. After a second of thought, Dr. Glass followed.
"Why are you talking about me at dinner in the first place?" Jimmy asked Matt.
"Because somebody's got to. Our dad asks Ben a lot of stupid questions about his day and you're usually the answer, but no one says so, and dad's not going to just stop asking, so I tell him," Matt easily explained.
"Yeah, I'd kick you too," Jimmy decided.
"Ben," Dr. Glass started in a low voice, Ben froze and tensed, she faltered and took a small breath before continuing, "I know I'm not really…what I mean is…that I know it's not my place, but I wanted you to know, that if you or Jimmy wanted, I could be there when you…what I mean is that sometimes it helps to have an unbiased third party, like a mediator, present for these kinds of situations in case the reaction isn't quite what you hope for. I can't imagine your father being someone that…but just in case; I can answer any questions, or provide explanations. I know that you are capable of handling this on your own, I just wanted to let you know that, if you wanted, I'm there for you."
"We won't need you," Ben said tersely, resumed putting the supplies away.
"Of course not," Dr. Glass murmured, "I didn't think that you would, I just thought that I would offer."
"Dr. Glass," Ben paused, sighed shortly, and glanced her slightly, uncertainly, out the corner of his eye, "Thank you. For always being…for everything that you've done for us. I do appreciate it, if I never said so, I'm sorry. Because I do, thank you."
"I am your doctor, after all, it is my job," Dr. Glass said light-heartedly, and they exchanged a small smile.
Ben returned to Jimmy, brushing away the hair to examine the bandages. He gripped Jimmy by the ears and dropped several kisses to Jimmy's forehead.
"Ack, Ben," Jimmy cried out in surprise, struggling from Ben's grasp, and the others broke out laughing at the display.
"Matt, stay with Dr. Glass," Ben instructed, "She needs help cleaning up around here."
"What? But I wanted to hang out with you," Matt complained.
"Too bad. Me and Jimmy have things we need to talk about," Ben returned.
"Please. Everyone knows that means you're not actually going to go talk," Matt rolled his eyes and hopped on his feet, stalking to the front of the van.
"I liked it better when he was five and everything he knew about the world were the things he learned on Sesame Street," Ben commented, leaning down to place a kiss on Jimmy's mouth, murmuring, "Come on, babe, we have four walls and a roof again. Let's go find a storage closet."
…
As it turned out, there weren't many storage closets in airplane hangars. There were, however, several sheds dotted around the area. Under the pretense of searching for lootable resources, the boys went exploring, picking one out with a sliding lock inside. An hour later, they lay naked and sweat drenched on the dusty floor, tangled in a pile of their clothes and each other's limbs.
"Should it worry me that you're already getting a lot better at that stupid finger thing?" Jimmy asked, still short of breath and pink in the cheeks, "Got to wonder if you've been practicing, and how."
"Good hands, remember," Ben replied, grinning toothily and pressing a kiss to Jimmy's mouth, smoothing his palm down along Jimmy's hip and outer thigh, then up again. Jimmy shuddered, squirmed underneath Ben, and ticked his fingers across the rods.
"You won't ever let me forget," Jimmy joked, flushing.
Ben traced Jimmy's collarbone with his fingertips, dropped a kiss to the pale skin, and wrinkled his brow, touching a purplish discoloration a little lower down, then noting a series of brownish-green marks on Jimmy's bicep.
"Those are odd bruises. Where did you get that?" Ben asked. Jimmy flinched, glanced down at the indicated area.
"I don't know. We're in the middle of a war zone; I can't keep track of every bump and scrape I get."
Ben began to lay his fingers along the dots and Jimmy shrugged the hand away, pushing Ben up as he started into a sitting position.
"We should probably get dressed," Jimmy suggested, pecking Ben on the lips, "And then talk about tonight."
"Jimmy…"
"I bruise easier nowadays," Jimmy said, and as he tugged on his pants Ben started to see the several bruises along Jimmy's back, "I remember hearing once that low potassium will do that. Do you think maybe that's the problem?"
"Maybe," Ben murmured, grabbing his own clothes, and clearing his throat, "What about tonight did you want to talk about?"
Jimmy sat down again, propping his arms up on his knees and shrugging, "Maybe we should talk about, I don't know, what we're going to talk about."
"Us. We're going to talk about us. How's that difficult?" Ben wondered, stretching languidly, popping the bones of his spine. Jimmy winced and pouted up at Ben.
"So we're just going to say what? Lately you've been sticking your fingers up my ass?"
"Yeah, sure," Ben quipped, plopping on the ground and nuzzling Jimmy's neck, "Except we could probably find a better way to word that. I was thinking something along the lines of…we enjoy one another's company."
"I think he's at least picked up on that, Ben."
"Especially when we're not wearing clothes," Ben finished.
"Oh yeah, that's much better," Jimmy drawled sardonic, "Though, I don't see why we can't just be blunt about it. It's not like he's not going to mentally translate whatever double entendre we use into the dirty wording anyways. We just save time on awkward explanations. Here's one: father, recently we've realized that the best way to take our minds off the aliens invading and the whole war thing is to screw each other's brains out, because, turns out, nothing makes you forget the world ended like a really awesome orgasm."
"You're going to tell my dad that," Ben said skeptically.
"No, you're going to tell your dad that. Telling him anything was your idea, so you get to do all the talking. I'm just going to stand there and look pretty," Jimmy replied.
"Oh, okay, well in that case, if I'm doing the talking, then I get to decide what I'm going to say," Ben declared, "And you know what I want to tell him."
"No, you agreed, we're not saying that," Jimmy whined.
"Nope, it was a coerced agreement, doesn't count," Ben argued.
"I didn't coerce you into anything."
"You deprived me of any and all forms of contact with you for a week, then took me to the sex bus, acting all vulnerable and, need I say, sexy, and right when my brain was fully overloaded, addled by lust and want and desire, you sprung this ultimatum on me. I would've agreed to anything at that point if it got you out of your pants and into my arms," Ben ranted, "That, my love, is the very definition of coercion."
"What the fuck is with that pet name? Is this 1920, or something? What happened to 'babe'?"
"First you don't like the pet names, and now you're nit-picking over which ones I use?"
"I don't think I like this conversation," Jimmy complained.
"That would be because it's actually an argument and you're losing," Ben returned cheerfully.
"Shut up now or I'll be forced to coerce you into letting me win," Jimmy jeered, grinning.
"Okay, well, see, you think you're being cute right now, but that's not cute. That's really not cute. That's kind of actually very mean, is what that is," Ben stammered, accepting a kiss, and repeating petulantly, "Mean."
"Why are you so calm about this?" Jimmy wondered, "He's your dad, and I'm the one scared shitless. It's not like he can disown me."
"I guess it's because he's my dad," Ben explained, slipping an arm around Jimmy's waist and trailing kisses down his shoulder, "I know he wouldn't disown me over something like this. To be honest, my biggest fear is you."
Jimmy raised a brow at that, "You think I'm going to say something stupid?"
"No," Ben muttered, grimaced and admitted, "Yeah, a little but that's not why. I'm not worried about you, I'm worried for you."
"Your dad really can't disown me, Ben," Jimmy reiterated.
"No, he can't," Ben agreed, smiling at Jimmy, and distantly noting, "He can't do anything to you."
Jimmy kissed Ben and said, "At some point, we need to talk about the other thing."
"Which other thing? I got a list of things we need to talk about, at the top is what new trick from that book are we going to try, since you liked the last one so much?"
Jimmy flushed from head to toe. He flashed to a couple nights back, bad case of insomnia, nothing to do, seated in the back of the car where he'd stowed the book, trying discreetly to read its passages, only to develop a painful hard-on a couple pages in. Long story short, he didn't realize how much time had passed since he'd last needed to take matters into his own hands, he'd gotten a bit rusty, and it didn't help that he spent the entire time thinking 'this is so much better with Ben'.
"Oh shit," Ben frowned, "Shit, I'm so stupid. I don't remember where that book went."
"I wouldn't worry about it," Jimmy whispered, feeling hoarse.
"No, crap, last I can remember having it was the community center. It was in the tent. Goddammit, Hal broke down the tent," Ben raged, "That asshole probably tossed it, as if his stash of porn is so much more superior they couldn't even occupy the same space in his duffel bag. Bastard!"
"Seriously, Ben, if it's gone, oh well. We'll figure things out on our own. We've gotten this far on our own, haven't we?" Jimmy insisted.
Ben scowled, "I guess so. It was a good book, though, and I was only half-way through it."
"How the fuck did you get that far into it?" Jimmy cried, "I can't even get past page two. Fuck."
Jimmy slapped a hand to his face, and hung his head.
"When were you reading it and why is that sentence in present tense?" Ben mused, suddenly looking as though he won the lottery, he realized, "You have the book. How did you get it? Did you rescue it from my tent? Was that a priority for you, securing our sex book?"
"Hal found it, like you said, he gave it to me," Jimmy mumbled from behind his hand, "You can have it back."
"No, you keep it," Ben hastily said, "Read it and share with me."
"Get dressed and get away from me."
Ben beamed, snatching up his clothes and climbing to his feet, "I can't wait until tonight. After we tell my dad, things are going to be so awesome. I'm going to convince him to let you stay in our tent."
"Like that's going to happen," Jimmy scoffed, frowning at his shirt in a rumpled pile on the floor and absently twirling his fingers in the bullet round his neck.
"It will. Things are going to turn out good, you'll see. If not tonight, then eventually, my dad is going to be okay with this and everything after is going to be…easier, I guess."
Jimmy sighed, reached for his shirt, pausing when he felt a chill crawling through him, nausea turning in his stomach. He started to pull into himself again and caught sight of his arm, where the bruising from the night before the harnessing facility when Ben lost eight hours of his day had been, there was a glisten of translucence. He traced his fingers over the spot, rubbed at it furiously.
"Jimmy?" Ben said, smoothing out the front of his shirt, as he turned around Jimmy tucked the arm into his lap out of sight, and looked up anxiously, "What are you doing? Why aren't you getting dressed?"
"I am. I will," Jimmy replied, coughed to hide the stiltedness from his tone, "You go on ahead back to camp and I'll catch up. I need to…um…I'll clean up here. That way…uh…your dad, he'll get suspicious. You've been gone awhile. And, yeah."
Ben looked unconvinced, but nodded, "Okay. If you're sure."
"I'm sure. Go."
Ben bent down, kissed Jimmy on the forehead, and reluctantly left the shed. Jimmy waited, counted to ten, before lifting his arm. The mark, rash, whatever, was still there. He daintily touched the skin, and it shimmered, as though recoiling. He furrowed his brow, brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck and halted, catching his breath. The bruising Ben had noticed on his other arm was doing the same. He closed his eyes against the rushing cold, fought the sudden overwhelming need to pass out, blinked away the black spots splashing across his vision.
"What is happening to me?"
.
.
.
AN: Aww...isn't Nurse Ben cute? Anyhow, heavy dose of fluffy stuff. There's one more chapter until Tom finds out about the boys, for those of you waiting impatiently. I had a lot of trouble writing the scene too, so hopefully it doesn't suck as much as I feel it does. Also, I'm going to be posting the prologue of the new Dark Future fic that I've been working on. It's short, more like a teaser chapter than anything else. Go check it out, it's titled: Raising Skies.
I've got cats walking all over my keyboard, so wrapping up, let me know what you think of this chapter please! Thank you!
Reviewers: NOxONE, hehe, I'm glad you liked it. I wasn't sure anyone would. A battle over Jimmy, huh? I do know what you mean, and I think there are other readers who may string me up for that. Not to say it won't necessarily happen, but...kidding. Or am I? You'll have to read to find out. LuckyDreamer91, I'm sorry to hear you had a bad week, but I'm glad my story could help to alleviate it a bit. :) One more chapter until Tom's reaction. Roman's growing on you, huh? That's good, because he's not dying like some people have suggested he do. But there is still plenty of room in this story for him to get his ass kicked. Hehe, thank you for the awesome review! Dee, LOL, you did do it. But you totally have every right to want your name attached to your reviews. After all, you put your heart and soul into them. That goes for everyone, be proud of your reviews! I know I already clarified for you, but I need to say it again for everyone else's sake, Roman is sixteen years old. It was stated in the chapter he was intro'd in (Chapter 7), if you guys want to flash back there to refresh on the unharnessed kids ages. Wow, that was a long time ago, huh? I don't blame you for forgetting that information. Honestly, though, I don't think you need to rationalize your dislike of the incident. You want Ben and Jimmy together, and you felt for Ben when Roman kissed Jimmy. Though, you are right, Roman is far more experienced then Jimmy, and Jimmy is very emotionally stunted because of his childhood. Though, some (not saying me, just to be clear) would argue that Roman's experience would make him a better first partner for Jimmy, so he could show Jimmy how things are done. Personally, I like the learning together scenes between Ben and Jimmy. Yes, in Falling Snow, Cass makes a comment that Jimmy dated girls because they asked him out, but the relationships always ended because he wasn't very interested in dating them. He really wouldn't have realized his sexuality (in the general sense of the term) until much later in life. I don't think Roman will reveal the secret to Ben, like he said, he wants a piece of Jimmy that he can keep all to himself. As for Jimmy wanting to tell Tom, there is the other side to it. Maybe in making that pact with Roman, Jimmy felt empowered, sort of like, he was able to figure out a way to "protect" Ben from Roman, so maybe in that, he feels he could also protect Ben from Tom, and that's why he's ready. Not saying that's what it is, but you know, there's always that side to it. And yes, Anne, aside from feeling like the awkward third-wheel chaperone in her own medic van, I agree the boys' lovey-dovey reminding her that good could come from the war probably kept in her a very good mood indeed.
Thanks for dropping in guys. Go see my new story, if it interests you, and otherwise, I'll see you all next Sunday.