Friday, August 16th, 2013 -- evening
To put it mildly, the past few days had been horrible -- of course, Ben's given up on keeping track of things like 'days' and 'time' in general at this point. It was easy to do, after all, since he'd been stuck in a loop of waking up at home, checking on Jackie's cat since he was there anyway, and then stubbornly returning to Lucie's house and the attic above, hiding there for an hour or two -- and then the cycle repeats. Too many times to count.
One of those times, he wakes up in the kitchen at home, and after getting up from the floor (where he'd been sprawled, and the reason why, he doesn't even think about), he catches sight of the red light on the answering machine on the counter blinking on-off-on. One new message. His cell has been dead for a while now, and he hasn't thought to charge it or or even check if it needs to be charged; he's silently thanking some higher power he doesn't believe in that he'd refused to get rid of a land line.
It's after he listens to the message -- Jackie calling him from Georgia just before leaving -- that it all starts to sink in for him. He needs to get it together, pretend like he's not losing it. Pretend like he's actually sane. Some part of him actually thinks he'll be able to pull it off and convince Jackie that he's been fine while she's been gone.
He takes a shower, changes his clothes. Actually heats up some leftover takeout he'd found in the fridge, actually eats. It's difficult to fake it, even on his own, so he decides that the less he tries to do, the better -- that's what leads him to camp out on the couch with a sports channel on, Shadow curled up on the floor in front of the couch.
It had been early on in her trip that Jackie had an unintentional run in with a watering hole with her cellphone still in her pocket thanks to one of her well intentioned, but not quite forward thinking friends. She had called Ben from her Mother's house to tell him and she worried about them not being able to stay in contact through calls and text messaging like they had planned but he told her to not worry about it, to enjoy herself and being with her parents. It was hard to accept at first but she slowly eased into it, the idea of Ben not being only a few key punches away. He was right that it wasn't something for them to panic over. They could deal with it, couldn't they?
Her planned week long vacation somehow spanned into two since her Mother kept insisting she stay longer. How could Jackie say no to a little extra time of being spoiled by her parents? But eventually she missed Ben and home far too much and it was time to make the trek back to RhyDin.
It had been early in the morning when she tried calling Ben's cellphone. No answer. Considering Jackie was constantly finding his phone and putting it on the charger for him it didn't really raise any red flags. More than likely he left it somewhere around the house and let the battery run out. No answer at the office either. Her last effort was to call the house. No one answered but at least she could leave a voicemail. Was Ben going to say 'I told you so' about keeping that stupid landline?
Belle and Jackie piled into the truck and they were on the road back to RhyDin. The trip moved along quick enough with a soundtrack of Dolly Parton easing them along the open road and as fun as it was to sing along with while Belle watched Jackie in utter confusion there was an immense feeling of relief when Jackie finally pulled up into the driveway of their little white house.
The bags could wait and Jackie only scooped Belle into her arms before making a quick beeline to the door. With an excited jumble of keys she let herself in and called out. "Honey, I'm home!" A hip bumping the door shut behind her so she could venture further into the house to find Ben.
Ben hated it, that hearing Jackie's keys in the door made his stomach flip -- and not in the good way, not in the way he would've liked, that he'd be excited to see her. Not that he wasn't happy that she was home, because part of him was -- it'd get better now, wouldn't it? Maybe things would be fine? But maybe they wouldn't. And avoiding telling her how bad things had gotten wasn't going to be easy. If he was honest with himself, he'd know it wouldn't be possible for very long at all.
"Hey, you made it home in one piece!" Sounds okay, but he's sort of slow to get to his feet. Once standing, though, he's not hesitating to meet her, Shadow trailing him the entire way. The grin seems genuine enough, wide, crooked, but god, did he look worn down, tired -- haggard, days worth of stubble, dark circles under his eyes. Still, after an absent tug to one sleeve of his hoodie, he opens up his arms to her for a hug. "C'mere, beautiful. How was the drive?"
"We did! It was fine, a lil' bumpy the first few miles but Belle got the hang of drivin' old red out there mighty quick and I napped the entire way home." A little bounce of practically passed out puppy in her arms before setting her down on the floor so she was free to properly greet Ben. Sure, Jackie would say he looked handsome as ever but it wasn't hard to miss the signs of fatigue that he wore. "Ben Sullivan, what in the hell have you been doin'? Have you been sleepin' at all?" Jackie steps forward into the hug but she's cupping his jaw with her palms, turning his head left and right so she can look him over. "Sweetheart, you look exhausted. I was really hopin' you wouldn't be tossin' yourself into work like this while I was gone." Brows knitting in a small frown of worry.
He even laughs a little, quiet, a wry thing, for her joke about Belle driving. Maybe he could do this after all. --of course, then she asks if he's been sleeping, and he shouldn't lie, right? Honesty. His hands find the small of her back, curl into the fabric there briefly before he clasps his hands loosely there to keep her in close. "I..." Dropping eye contact for a few seconds, but he lifts it again before she's even finished looking him over. "I've been gone a lot. So I don't know, maybe I'm not getting as much sleep as I need." A little tick of a smile, half-there, but apologetic.
There's a small wince when he admits he's been missing, sympathetic and just a hint of irritation at herself. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I figured not hearing from you meant things were okay. A no news is good news sort of deal. I shouldn't have, I should have checked in more." His gaze might have dropped but she was still doing her best to look him over, to take inventory now compared to how she left him two weeks ago. "Tonight we'll get some good rest, okay? I'm gonna fix you somethin' nice and heavy for dinner, we'll watch a lil' hockey on the couch, then we'll go to bed and I'll hug on you all night long to make sure you don't do anything else aside from cuddlin' up with me." Could it be that simple? Could she help erase whatever it was the boys had been up to the last two weeks with a home cooked meal and some domestic bliss? She had little more to offer than that. Her hands dropped from his jaw to slide around his torso, hands pressing into his back in a firm hug. "I got you now, sweetheart. It's alright."
Right away, he's shaking his head. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I wanted you to enjoy your time there, not worry about how I was doing." He'd seemed normal enough besides the exhaustion at first, but close up, and under prolonged study, something about him really isn't right. Delayed, like he's having to actually think about his responses and reactions. It's only an extra second, but it's enough that they don't seem entirely natural. "That sounds really good, sweets. I just want a quiet night with you." But as much as he says he wants it, when she finally returns the hug and presses her hands into his back, his muscles tense under her hands, and he flinches away from her touch -- barely, but enough. Doesn't pull away from her, though, holding her just as tight now, cheek to cheek with her. "I hope it is." Quiet, but he still isn't completely able to keep the strain out of his voice.
"I'm supposed to worry. If the tables were turned you would be worryin' about me instead of kickin' back without a care in the world. That's what we do." The longer the conversation went on, the more she was able to pick up on that delay but was it something to really fret over? Did she want to come home and instantly go worrisome wife on him? The options were still up for debate when he tenses and flinches away from her. That little bit was enough to make her release him entirely even if he still had a hold on her. "Ben, sweetheart, I feel like you're not tellin' me somethin'. Did I just hurt you?" Her head tipped back, trying to look at him without pulling out of his grasp. "Baby, what happened while I was gone?"
To put it mildly, the past few days had been horrible -- of course, Ben's given up on keeping track of things like 'days' and 'time' in general at this point. It was easy to do, after all, since he'd been stuck in a loop of waking up at home, checking on Jackie's cat since he was there anyway, and then stubbornly returning to Lucie's house and the attic above, hiding there for an hour or two -- and then the cycle repeats. Too many times to count.
One of those times, he wakes up in the kitchen at home, and after getting up from the floor (where he'd been sprawled, and the reason why, he doesn't even think about), he catches sight of the red light on the answering machine on the counter blinking on-off-on. One new message. His cell has been dead for a while now, and he hasn't thought to charge it or or even check if it needs to be charged; he's silently thanking some higher power he doesn't believe in that he'd refused to get rid of a land line.
It's after he listens to the message -- Jackie calling him from Georgia just before leaving -- that it all starts to sink in for him. He needs to get it together, pretend like he's not losing it. Pretend like he's actually sane. Some part of him actually thinks he'll be able to pull it off and convince Jackie that he's been fine while she's been gone.
He takes a shower, changes his clothes. Actually heats up some leftover takeout he'd found in the fridge, actually eats. It's difficult to fake it, even on his own, so he decides that the less he tries to do, the better -- that's what leads him to camp out on the couch with a sports channel on, Shadow curled up on the floor in front of the couch.
It had been early on in her trip that Jackie had an unintentional run in with a watering hole with her cellphone still in her pocket thanks to one of her well intentioned, but not quite forward thinking friends. She had called Ben from her Mother's house to tell him and she worried about them not being able to stay in contact through calls and text messaging like they had planned but he told her to not worry about it, to enjoy herself and being with her parents. It was hard to accept at first but she slowly eased into it, the idea of Ben not being only a few key punches away. He was right that it wasn't something for them to panic over. They could deal with it, couldn't they?
Her planned week long vacation somehow spanned into two since her Mother kept insisting she stay longer. How could Jackie say no to a little extra time of being spoiled by her parents? But eventually she missed Ben and home far too much and it was time to make the trek back to RhyDin.
It had been early in the morning when she tried calling Ben's cellphone. No answer. Considering Jackie was constantly finding his phone and putting it on the charger for him it didn't really raise any red flags. More than likely he left it somewhere around the house and let the battery run out. No answer at the office either. Her last effort was to call the house. No one answered but at least she could leave a voicemail. Was Ben going to say 'I told you so' about keeping that stupid landline?
Belle and Jackie piled into the truck and they were on the road back to RhyDin. The trip moved along quick enough with a soundtrack of Dolly Parton easing them along the open road and as fun as it was to sing along with while Belle watched Jackie in utter confusion there was an immense feeling of relief when Jackie finally pulled up into the driveway of their little white house.
The bags could wait and Jackie only scooped Belle into her arms before making a quick beeline to the door. With an excited jumble of keys she let herself in and called out. "Honey, I'm home!" A hip bumping the door shut behind her so she could venture further into the house to find Ben.
Ben hated it, that hearing Jackie's keys in the door made his stomach flip -- and not in the good way, not in the way he would've liked, that he'd be excited to see her. Not that he wasn't happy that she was home, because part of him was -- it'd get better now, wouldn't it? Maybe things would be fine? But maybe they wouldn't. And avoiding telling her how bad things had gotten wasn't going to be easy. If he was honest with himself, he'd know it wouldn't be possible for very long at all.
"Hey, you made it home in one piece!" Sounds okay, but he's sort of slow to get to his feet. Once standing, though, he's not hesitating to meet her, Shadow trailing him the entire way. The grin seems genuine enough, wide, crooked, but god, did he look worn down, tired -- haggard, days worth of stubble, dark circles under his eyes. Still, after an absent tug to one sleeve of his hoodie, he opens up his arms to her for a hug. "C'mere, beautiful. How was the drive?"
"We did! It was fine, a lil' bumpy the first few miles but Belle got the hang of drivin' old red out there mighty quick and I napped the entire way home." A little bounce of practically passed out puppy in her arms before setting her down on the floor so she was free to properly greet Ben. Sure, Jackie would say he looked handsome as ever but it wasn't hard to miss the signs of fatigue that he wore. "Ben Sullivan, what in the hell have you been doin'? Have you been sleepin' at all?" Jackie steps forward into the hug but she's cupping his jaw with her palms, turning his head left and right so she can look him over. "Sweetheart, you look exhausted. I was really hopin' you wouldn't be tossin' yourself into work like this while I was gone." Brows knitting in a small frown of worry.
He even laughs a little, quiet, a wry thing, for her joke about Belle driving. Maybe he could do this after all. --of course, then she asks if he's been sleeping, and he shouldn't lie, right? Honesty. His hands find the small of her back, curl into the fabric there briefly before he clasps his hands loosely there to keep her in close. "I..." Dropping eye contact for a few seconds, but he lifts it again before she's even finished looking him over. "I've been gone a lot. So I don't know, maybe I'm not getting as much sleep as I need." A little tick of a smile, half-there, but apologetic.
There's a small wince when he admits he's been missing, sympathetic and just a hint of irritation at herself. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I figured not hearing from you meant things were okay. A no news is good news sort of deal. I shouldn't have, I should have checked in more." His gaze might have dropped but she was still doing her best to look him over, to take inventory now compared to how she left him two weeks ago. "Tonight we'll get some good rest, okay? I'm gonna fix you somethin' nice and heavy for dinner, we'll watch a lil' hockey on the couch, then we'll go to bed and I'll hug on you all night long to make sure you don't do anything else aside from cuddlin' up with me." Could it be that simple? Could she help erase whatever it was the boys had been up to the last two weeks with a home cooked meal and some domestic bliss? She had little more to offer than that. Her hands dropped from his jaw to slide around his torso, hands pressing into his back in a firm hug. "I got you now, sweetheart. It's alright."
Right away, he's shaking his head. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I wanted you to enjoy your time there, not worry about how I was doing." He'd seemed normal enough besides the exhaustion at first, but close up, and under prolonged study, something about him really isn't right. Delayed, like he's having to actually think about his responses and reactions. It's only an extra second, but it's enough that they don't seem entirely natural. "That sounds really good, sweets. I just want a quiet night with you." But as much as he says he wants it, when she finally returns the hug and presses her hands into his back, his muscles tense under her hands, and he flinches away from her touch -- barely, but enough. Doesn't pull away from her, though, holding her just as tight now, cheek to cheek with her. "I hope it is." Quiet, but he still isn't completely able to keep the strain out of his voice.
"I'm supposed to worry. If the tables were turned you would be worryin' about me instead of kickin' back without a care in the world. That's what we do." The longer the conversation went on, the more she was able to pick up on that delay but was it something to really fret over? Did she want to come home and instantly go worrisome wife on him? The options were still up for debate when he tenses and flinches away from her. That little bit was enough to make her release him entirely even if he still had a hold on her. "Ben, sweetheart, I feel like you're not tellin' me somethin'. Did I just hurt you?" Her head tipped back, trying to look at him without pulling out of his grasp. "Baby, what happened while I was gone?"