ROLE CHANGE CHAPTER NINETEEN
A/N: Apologies that this chapter is all about Ben, the balance between characters will be better for the next update.
Dylan had wanted Ben to come back to the hospital with him so he could be given a sedative but Ben was insistent that he had to return to Corvaine as soon as possible.
"I have to see her" he said quietly, "I have to be there for her."
Dylan just gave him a quick hug, sorted out the air and train bookings, and then a taxi to the station. The truth was that Dylan was stricken with remorse now he knew what Ben had been put through, and the agony he was going through now.
"Take care, Ben. We'll be here for you when you come back."
Ben just nodded bleakly and for once, Dylan didn't take offence at this.
The rest of Robyn's visitors sat around miserably. Both Ethan and Robyn's eyes were red from weeping, Max looked stunned, Zoe and Cal looked weary to the bone.
"He's got a son. Ben, with a son" Max said incredulously.
"I wish there'd been some way for them to be together" Robyn whispered, "Or that he could have been there with her till the end."
"No" Zoe replied, "Ben being Ben, he'd have thrown himself in front of her or died with her and we'd all be mourning him now."
"I know what I think" Cal said darkly, "I'll not feel he's safe until he's back in the UK again. I don't like the sound of those buggers-oh, sorry Robyn, I'm just being tactless."
Sophia had been persuaded to go to bed and try and sleep. She didn't need this unhappiness in her condition. Yet, being only human, she couldn't help grieving for Ben, who she'd hardly met but knew him to be genuine. She found it hard to sleep.
Robyn sighed.
"It's what we're all thinking, Cal. I think we all need a strong tea and then to try to sleep. Anybody want any food?"
Everybody declined, Ethan included. Normally Cal would have teased him about this but this situation was beyond humour.
Ben was 'met' by a deputation at the airport who made sure that he was as unobtrusive as possible as he was escorted through. He wondered if a stupid reporter would ask him a tactless question and he thought bring it on. If it had been a man, Ben would have thumped him, a woman would have received a tongue lashing she'd never forget. But he was just escorted to the car and driven to the Palace.
David awaited him.
"Benjamin, I am so sorry-"
"-Can I see her?"
David put his hand on Ben's arm.
"Yes, of course. I'll show you the room."
Ben couldn't help it; as he was shown down the corridors, he clutched David's arm.
"Please don't let them bury her near Stefan. She was afraid of him."
David's expression, though managing to be compassionate at the same time, held no hope for Ben. Sara would have to be buried next to Stefan.
"And Alex? What happens to Alex now?"
David hated what he had to tell Ben.
"He's been taken to stay with other members of our Royal family, Ben. They're the best people he could be with now."
"So I don't even see my child? David, you know something? I just want to leave this place for good and then deal with the fallout the best way I can."
Ben was at last taken to the room where Sara lay. David tactfully withdrew for a while. Sara could have been sleeping; she looked peaceful enough and still beautiful but the warmth and the hidden smile that had always lurked just beneath her grave expression were gone forever. Ben kissed her lips and whispered:
"I'll love you till I die. Alex is safe, darling. Sleep now."
Then he was being taken back again, escorted to his own apartments, to a meal he'd never be able to eat and a bed he wouldn't sleep in.
On the day of the funeral Karl accosted Ben.
"You will keep calm. We must have no sobbing and dramatics from you; you will attend the funeral as Stefan. Don't worry, you will not have much longer to play your role; the Prince is going to succumb to his illness very shortly."
Ben still managed to feel a little queasy that the Prince's body had been preserved for so long. Well, he thought wearily, the poor bastard will be buried soon enough.
And suddenly a suspicion insinuated itself into his mind. A suspicion that, a few months ago, would have made him very uneasy. One that now just left him numb.
He attended the funeral and did what Karl had demanded. No sobbing, no dramatics. He would have been incapable of either; Ben's soul was dead so there was no effort needed for him to impersonate the cold-blooded Stefan.
It was as he was making his way back to the apartment that he and Sara had been so happy in that Karl came towards him.
"I feel I owe it to you to let you see the crypt where the Princess will lie, Benjamin. Follow me."
Karl's face seemed to be without malice for once and maybe this should have warned Ben. But Ben was too drained to think logically and followed him down the steps.
Deep in the core of the Palace, a cold, bleak chamber with two coffins prepared.
"Poor Sara. She was so warm and full of life."
"I expected such sentimental crap from you. But you will serve us one last purpose, Ben. The people will want to see Prince Stefan's face at his funeral. Not the face of a man who has died from a wasting disease; the face his loyal subjects expect to see."
The meaning hit Ben like a sledgehammer. To Karl's fury he nodded calmly.
"Of course. Just get on with it."
Karl's smile was chilly as he took out the gun.
"Nobody will hear us in this crypt, Ben, so I'm going to make your death slow."
He aimed for Ben's gut.
"You're talking to a man who doesn't give a shit whether he lives or dies."
Karl sniggered.
"Wait till the pain begins."
Ben heard not one, but two shots. After the initial burning pain, he realised two things. The pain was in his leg, not his gut, and Karl was lying beside him, eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling, a hole in the middle of his forehead.
David, still holding the gun he'd fired, came over.
"I wasn't going to let him kill you, Ben, we've taken enough from you. Help's on his way."
"Sara…"
"I'll make sure she won't be buried next to Stefan, Ben. Please believe me, I never realised Karl meant to do this… I was suspicious when he led you down here, and followed."
All the time he was talking, David was staunching Ben's bleeding with a handkerchief.
"The ambulance will be here soon."
"Thank you, but…"
David looked sadly at Ben.
"You wish you were in your grave?"
"Just that."
"I understand, believe me. At least you saw your Sara looking peaceful. I only had memories of Anton after they'd sent him off to another pointless war to keep us apart."
"You're gay?"
David nodded.
"Anton was blown to pieces. Nothing left of him."
Ben grasped David's hand.
"One more thing, Ben, before help comes. You will see Alex again. This country is on the verge of revolution – of course, as the Prince, you would have been the last one to be informed about the state of your own country."
Ben would normally have laughed at this irony.
"I'll be taking him to a safe country. From there, it will be easy to bring him to see you now and then."
Something to live for, was Ben's last thought as he sank into unconsciousness.
When he came round, he learned that he would be sent on a quiet flight direct to the UK as soon as his wound was sufficiently healed.
A month later, he was sitting in a wheelchair and being taken through Heathrow airport, ready to put his shattered life back together as best he could.