Just Dropping In (Part One) WHO Ben Turner OT Zee Chavez, Rebecca Sullivan, Anya Kaminsky WHAT An old friend drops in on Zee and her housemate. WHERE Zee & Becca's bungalow WHEN Monday, May 15th, 2017 (11:07 PM) - Friday, May 19th, 2017 (9:18 AM)
It had been a year almost to the day that he escaped the iron fist of the Taiga when a group connected to the clan found him near the Canadian border. In hindsight, Ben had been stupid. The strategy had always been to say no more than two months in a place before moving on. He'd been pushing through nearly three in North Bay when he'd broken up the wrong fight in the bar he worked at. Realizing his blunder too late after the looks he'd gotten by a few members of the group, they caught up with him three days later outside his cabin while he was transferring supplies from his car to the kitchen. Despite getting the drop on him, Ben was able to take out two before the scuffle got serious between him and the remaining three. Fearing that one of them would clip him if he took flight to escape, Ben used everything he had on him to bring down the rest when he was rushed.
Ben had not been known for grandstanding during his fights and in the beginning he was not particularly popular due to his efficiency. That unpopular efficiency, however, had earned him his popularity later because of its brutality. That same brutality echoed through the clearing that made up his front yard as fists thunked against muscled flesh, chased with grunts of pain while fingers curled around limbs and snapped bones. Short-lived screams cut through the muted symphony only to end suddenly as a hand chopped at a throat, cutting off air. The performance came to an abrupt halt when the bark of a gun created a temporary cacophony of noise that ended with Ben's screams scattering through the trees on the frantic beat of startled wings.
As he hit the ground, the shifter could smell and taste the tang of copper on his tongue thanks to the inside of his cheek being cut by his teeth when he'd been punched in the face. But that was nothing compared to the fire that ripped through his shoulder, side, and back when he turned to flee, stumbling briefly from the pain. The sound of tearing fabric could be heard in Ben's scramble to rid himself of his shirt and despite the agony of his shoulder, he threw himself into the sky, shifting into a Barred Owl, and took flight. After that, Ben didn't have much recollection of anything else. It took everything he had to keep his concentration on flying and not lose his form thousands of feet up. He stopped only a few times to rest, digging out the bullets that he could and cursing whoever had been the smart enough to load the mag with silver ones.
By the time he reached the opposite shore of Lake Ontario, Ben was exhausted from frequent shifting, long flights in the air, and from blood loss. It was a wonder he hadn't gone unconscious before now, but he absently supposed that pure stubbornness to get away was what kept him going. Now, however, he could barely stay focused to remain conscious let alone hold his current form. Already he drifted, floated, veered, and zig zagged through the air until he finally hit land, so to speak, and his body finally gave out on him. The wind practically freezing against his bare skin as he fell, the sensation barely registered as he descended unchecked until finally he was jolted awake and painfully so.
Ben hit the roof of the bungalow with a heavy thunk and crunch, a yelp of pain ripping free of a throat that hadn't been used in days. He had little time to steel himself before he was rolling off said roof, adrenaline and panic allowing him to react accordingly. Fingers that dragged something awful against shingles shifted into claws, immediately slowly his descent enough not to do anymore serious damage. Momentum caused him to roll off the edge, another yelp cutting through the air when he jerked to a stop and his body protested the abrupt movement. With the immediate danger past, his body rebelled on him once more, his hand losing its shift, and Ben dropped like a bag of bricks to the ground.
A snap accompanied his landing, but the scream of pain that bubbled forth was cut off as his head slammed into something hard and slightly rough. For a brief moment, his view of the world felt… off. And bright. Too bright. And despite his gaze drifting to the right, he felt as if his head was drifting to the left before he seemed like the world righted itself. Everything hurt. He couldn't breathe, couldn't draw in a full breath.
Ben felt like he was dying.
Friday mornings were usually Zee's favorite. It was the one day she got to sleep in and take it easy because she didn't have anywhere to be until later in the evening when she started her shift at the Aquitaine. So she was less than enthused when she was suddenly woken by a loud thump on the roof, followed by the sound of desperate scrambling which should only attribute to yet another fight between the squirrels and raccoons. With an annoyed flair, she sharply threw back the covers, ready to strip down and shift to let out a loud roar that usually worked to scare the pests away.
But before she could, there was another thud, this time on the ground outside her bedroom window. She let out a small sigh of relief, although the idea that she was going to have to remove an unappetizing rodent carcass from the side yard was less than appealing. But then she caught a scent wafting in through her open window - something that instantly triggered a strong feeling of familiarity, but that she couldn't quite place...
Now cautiously curious, she slipped out of bed to peer out the window, and the sight that greeted her made her heart stop.
"No fucking way," she whispered, frozen for a moment as her brain tried to make sense of what it was seeing. "No fucking way."
She sank back to the edge of her bed for a moment, face in her hands as she ran through a mental list of every drug she'd done in the past week, every weird dream experience she'd ever had, all the times she had dreamed about him in the years since she'd found out he'd been killed. But never once had she smelled him the way she could smell him now, and without even realizing it she was bolting through the house to the nearest door, not caring that she was only wearing an over-sized t-shirt as she rushed to the side yard and dropped to her knees.
He was in rough shape, but she almost burst into tears as his chest rose and fell, slowly but evenly. He was alive. Kneeling over him, she laid her hands gently on him, still needing to confirm that this wasn't a dream, it wasn't a hallucination, he was really there in her side yard - possibly bleeding out, but alive and in the flesh.
"Of all the houses, you just had to drop in on mine," she murmured, somewhere in between laughing and crying. "Ben Turner, you motherfucker, you're supposed to be dead."
Becca was jarred awake with a confused expression on her face as the morning fog in her brain struggled to determine whether or not something had hit the roof. It had sounded like it, but given the area, it wasn't uncommon for squirrels and raccoons to fight over food—It was just annoying as fuck that they decided to do it on the roof—and make a lot of noise in the process. Becca settled back onto her bed and rolled away from the light emitting from her window as she made a mental note to check the side-yard for dead pests as she heard something roll off the roof. A moment later, however, the werewolf was brought back to confused consciousness again when she swore she heard Zee rush out of the house. With a groan, Becca made herself get up, grumbling under her breath that this was not how she wanted to spend her Late Start Friday.
Sighing, the wolf pulled on an over-sized thin sweater for the sake of her neighbor's modesty since she was dressed in nothing more than a spaghetti strap tank top and printed boy shorts. On her way out of the house, Becca stopped long enough to start a pot of coffee because she was still under the impression that a dead animal had rolled off the roof. At least, that was the case until she had a scoop of coffee grounds hovering over the pot when the smell finally hit her.
Animal mixed with human. A shapeshifter. An unfamiliar shapeshifter. For a second, it was a relief that someone from the pack hadn't suffered unduly because of her need for coffee, but then she panicked and wondered if Zee had become injured. Dropping what was in her hands, the werewolf made a beeline for the open door, her feet smacking against concrete and the scent of blood guiding her around to the side of the house. Surprise did not begin to cover what she discovered.
Shock was perhaps more accurate and not because one of her best friends was crouching over a naked man. It was the fact the naked man was a mess. Becca was not unaccustomed to gore; They didn't happen often, but accidents did happen at the docks and, of course, sometimes things got heated during a pack run on a full moon, especially during mating season. But, this guy, whoever he was, had been through some shit and fairly recent judging from the healing… and not healing as blood wept from a nasty gash on the thigh. His leg bent at an uncomfortable angle, which meant it was broken, but had it been from the landing on the roof or the fall off of it? His fists were a mess of black-and-blue, with hints of yellow peeking out, and his face looked like someone had used it as a punching bag.
"Zee?!" Becca whispered loudly as she rushed toward the tiger and dropped to her knees next to her, "Who the hell is this guy?"
By the time Zee had reached him, Ben had recovered from getting the wind knocked out of him from his fall. Falls. Plural, Ben. Jesus, how the fuck was he even still conscious? He was drifting off while contemplating how the hell to go get out of the yard without anyone noticing him in broad daylight when he both smelled and heard her approach. The shifter nearly cried in relief as she sank down beside him. Of all the houses indeed, he thought and choked back a sob, a smile that probably looked more like a grimace spreading across his face.
"Surpri-ri-se," Ben quipped back in a halting, singsong voice. The weak laugh that followed ended in a pained sob as he blindly reached for her, an apology tumbling from his lips, "Sor-ry for drop-dropping in unan-n-nounced." Now that he wasn't actively trying to stay aloft, shock was quickly setting in. His teeth chattering against one another as he shivered and attempted another joke as an attractive short haired blonde came rushing up, "I th-ought it wou-would be war-warmer do-own h-here."
"Shit, we really need to get him inside, Zee. I think he's going into shock or something," Ben heard Blondie say as he drifted off into unconsciousness as the two discussed how to get him into the house. At least it'll end soon, he thought and in the safety of a friend. He didn't know how long he was out, but he was abruptly jarred awake by pain shooting through his back so bad that it practically screamed. Wait… No, he was screaming and instinct had him clamping his mouth shut to dampen the sound.
"The-ey sh-sh-shot me in the-e f-fucking ba-ack." He forced out in pained moan, "With si-sil-ver-er."
As soon as Ben had woken, Anya had gently tried to ease him back down to the couch that Zee and Becca had managed to get him to. Despite her best efforts to numb the pain, stitches sucked, and his sudden movement had her very worried that he was going to pop them before she could finish.
"Zinka, morphine," she said sharply, nodding at the vial and vacuum sealed syringe in her medical bag. Zee obediently handed it over as fast as she could.
"Benjamin, listen to my voice," she said soothingly, turning her attention back to Ben. "I am Anya, Zila's mother. Do you remember me?"
She tore the syringe packaging open and drew a small dosage of the drug, continuing to talk to him all the while in her soft, calm voice. "I am trying to stitch you, but it won't work if you are moving so much. This is morphine, just a little bit to help you sleep a little longer so I can finish. Okay?"
As swiftly and painlessly as she could, she slipped the needle into his arm and pressed the plunger down, administering the pain killer. When she'd answered her phone that morning, she never could have imagined that this was where should end up. She thought something had happened to Zee - there was no other explanation for why her daughter would call so early in the day. But instead, it had just been her daughter's breathless voice on the other end.
"Бенджи жив. Он в плохом состоянии."
Exhausted though she was after a long shift, Anya had grabbed her bag and sprinted out the door. She pulled up to Zee and Becca's bungalow not five minutes later to find them settling Ben's unconscious form on their couch. She examined him grimly; Zee hadn't been wrong, he wasn't in good shape at all. Whatever had happened to him, it looked like it had been an uneven match, and she shuddered to think of how much worse he would be had he not happened to crash into her daughter's house.
She worked as quickly as she could to finish stitching him up, before bandaging it all to give his healing factor the chance to kick into gear. Without it, he'd surely be dead. With a sigh, she sat back to keep an eye on him. The immediate crisis over for the moment, her mind finally began to catch up and process all the information before her.
She looked up at her daughter, who was pacing just behind the couch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "How?" she asked in disbelief. "You said that he was dead in combat."
"I don't know," Zee replied shortly, then gave a heavy sigh. "I mean, we didn't exactly have the chance to catch up because he was, you know, bleeding out and everything."
She gave another sigh and plopped down to the floor in front of her mother, letting her head lean back against Anya's knees. Automatically, Anya's fingers began to brush through her daughter's hair, just the way she would when Zee was a child who need calming. Zee let her eyes close for a minute as she tried to make sense of it all.
"They said he was dead," she mumbled. "I don't know why they would lie about that, but it's a pretty fucked up lie."
She felt a flash of anger tightening her chest as she thought about everything that had happened to her because she thought Ben wad dead. Grieving had never been something she was good at, and losing him just when she had found him again had sent her spiraling into the darkest period of her life. And it was because of all of that - the drugs, the blood whoring, the self-destruction - that she had ended up in Cavan's clutches, obligated now to serve him and whatever nefarious plan he had.
Tears welled and her fists came crashing down on the floor. "You better not fucking die on me this time, Benji," she growled, trying to pull herself together.
In the time he'd told Zee and her friend what had happened to him and getting him into the house, the shifter must've fallen unconscious. When he woke again, it was face down into the scratchy cushions of a couch with fire consuming his back. He jerked awake with a scream that crescendoed and he writhed to get away from whoever was inflicting more pain on him until the familiar voice of Anya finally penetrated his thoughts. Immediately, he tried to stop moving, realizing she was only trying to help, and let her help him back on the couch. Tension from the pain still had a hold on him as he tried to haltingly breathe around it. He nodded quickly, that smile-grimace curving his mouth as he tried to joke again.
"It's hard to forget the woman who made—AH! Блядь!—" He cried out when Anya stuck him with the morphine, the quiet curse following the uncomfortable pinching sensation caused by the needle. When he had the breath, he continued, "—who made the best kharcho on either side of the border." After that, it didn't take long for the morphine to kick in and the pain to completely disappear. He had the surreal feeling of knowing Anya was sticking a needle into him over and over to stitch up him up, but at that point, he simply did not care. In the last seven years of his life, he hadn't recalled ever feeling so good.The fire in his back was gone and with the cessation of that feeling, he was finally able to relax after days of adrenaline pumping through his system.
Roughly an hour later, Ben drifted awake with his face smushed into a pillow that smelled faintly of lavender. Cracking an eye open was an immediate mistake as the room was filled with bright sunlight that he snapped it shut again with a groan of protest. The brief glimpse he'd gotten was a floor to ceiling bookshelf, a familiar enough landscape to him that his recent ordeal did not quite hit him right away until he shifted on the bed and pain shot through his leg. His verbal protest was muffled by the pleasant smelling pillow, but now he was fully awake as the last vestiges of the morphine lifted free of his brain.
Well, he thought, I guess that means I haven't kicked the bucket, yet and took stock of his condition. He didn't recall breaking his leg on his journey, so it must've happened during his abrupt landing. While he'd been unconscious, someone had set it and a dull, but tolerable throbbing pain radiated through it. The gash he'd gotten from a claw-or maybe it had been a knife?-was all but healed, nothing more than a red weal remained as proof he'd been cut; The inside of his mouth still felt faintly raw like he'd gone to town on his teeth with an electric toothbrush, but it would mend soon enough; The bullet wound to his side had been a through and through and he could feel the raised marks of stitching with a matching set at his shoulder; To his relief, his back was no longer screaming in pain or felt like he was being ripped in half. Like his leg, only a dull throb remained so Anya must have been able to remove the bullet he'd been unable to reach. Overall, he'd recover.
Ben finally cracked his eyes open again to see the single bookshelf was apparently a theme in the room. Every space that wasn't occupied by a window was covered floor to ceiling with books. The spaces that windows did occupy looked as if they vomited greenery and flora, bringing an unexpected smile to his lips as he inhaled their scent. It was probably as close to the woods as you could get in the middle of suburbia even though he vaguely recalled seeing a few significant spots of forest on his way in.
Still somewhat exhausted from his ordeal, Ben had a serious internal debate about whether or not he should attempt to get out of the bed he'd been put in to tell Zee and Anya he was fine… Or go back to sleep. Sleep was winning the battle anyway until a slight breeze ruffled the curtains and pulled in smells from outside along with the strong smell of his childhood friend. Given that he'd literally fallen onto her house, it was understandable that her scent would permeate the interior, with another being stronger in the room he was occupying—Blondies?—so he had assumed he'd been left alone to let him rest. Shifting so he could turn his head, a tired smile curved his mouth at the sight of Zee curled up in an overstuffed easy chair with a book in her lap.
"Hey, Rug Rat," he finally murmured.
Zee's ears burned at the nickname, but she couldn't help but smile. She'd hated it when she was a kid, and grew to hate it slightly less as she got older; but it was only fair, if she could call him Benji, he got to call her Rug Rat.
She'd already started unfolding herself from the chair before she heard his voice, swiftly shutting the book she'd been entertaining herself with - which happened to be her roommate's diary - and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed. They'd all agreed her room was more nest than anything else, and that Becca's was much cleaner and neater, so that was where they had moved him (after Zee promised to buy Becca new sheets if he got blood on the old ones).
"Mom does good work, huh?" she asked, gently poking at one of his bandages. "She's also mad I taught you how to swear." She straightened up, doing her best impression of her mother. "'All the words, and this is what you teach him, Zinka? Why not something useful!'"
She chuckled a little to herself, but fell quickly quiet, the awkwardness and anxiety of the situation creeping in. Zee hated moments like this, she hated serious situations always cropping up and ruining the sheer moment to moment joy of life. As much as she was grateful to have Ben back, she hated that she now had to reconcile losing him with his miraculous resurrection.
"What the fuck, dude?" she finally asked with an exasperated sigh, tempted to punch him in the shoulder but ultimately deciding it would be a cheap shot. "Where have you been? What the fuck happened to you?"
As Zee got up to sit on the bed, Ben started the laborious endeavor of trying to move while not jarring his leg or popping the very work Zee mentioned. By the time he was settled with the bed's pillows supporting his good arm, he felt slightly winded and tired, yet that didn't stop a weary chuckle and another examination of the woman's handywork. Shrugging his good shoulder, he smiled.
"You can tell her she's got another satisfied customer," and laughed a little louder at the spot-on impression of Anya, "And, she should be relieved you taught me Russian swear words. Leaving my enemy confused is so much more rewarding than insulting them. Also, they saved my life once." Ben would have regaled her with a humorous anecdote, but it was clear from the serious expression that quickly took over her face that would be a story for another time. Ben heaved a sigh and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Zee. If I could get a message to you without them knowing, I would have. But…" His eye drifted away from hers, remembering unpleasant bits and pieces of his time with the Taiga, and he forced himself to look her in the eye again, "They threatened me with the people I cared about." He reached forward, his fingers curling around her hand, "You left so suddenly all those years ago, it was possible they had no clue about you. But, that was a risk I wasn't willing to take, even when I escaped a year ago." He paused, debating how much to tell and keep to himself and ultimately decided that she deserved to know everything.
"Do you remember our last Skype chat?" The last time he'd spoken with her, he had ended the conversation with the warning that he was going to Russia on a mission. At her nod he breathed in deeply before continuing with the clearing of his throat.
"The intel my superiors received was a lure. When we got settled in Russia, gathered more definitive 'information'…" He paused to swallow the lump that had begun to form in his throat, clearing it once again before he continued, "... Half my unit was massacred when we attempted to execute the mission. Those that didn't survive the ambush were captured by this… Russian supernatural group called the Taiga." Ben fell silent for a moment longer, his gaze fixated momentarily on a bookshelf as flashes of carnage danced across his vision until he forced himself to focus on the weretiger. A soft, wry laugh suddenly tumbled from his mouth that ended in a grimace of pain as his back protested the movement.
"Between you and me. The guys that died were the lucky ones." Ben had to pause again and take a breath, his dry amusement gone, "Whenever I had to point my weapon at someone, there was always a good reason. Self defense. Protect the guy on my right or left. Protect the innocent…" His gaze slid away from Zee's in the next moment, shame making him unable to look her in the eye, "What I was forced to do for the Taiga was nothing like that. There wasn't any honor, only business. Fighting for the sake of entertainment."
His lip curled with unpleasant thoughts, "It was disgusting and barbaric. When I had enough, I tried to escape, got caught and was severely punished." A shudder went through him as he recalled the last time he'd been punished for such a huge transgression.
"After the third time, I barely survived. So I waited. And waited. And waited. Made a name for myself. Got back into their good graces, or what passed for it, I suppose. And I waited until I could escape." Finally, Ben met the tiger's gaze, his fingers tightening around her hand briefly, "I didn't contact you this past year because I was afraid. I was scared that if I tried to go back home, to tell my parents, Alex, my brothers, that I would lead these monsters right to them. To you. I couldn't have that on my conscious and live with myself."
Zee's blood ran cold the first time the word Taiga left Ben's lips. It had been three years since she'd first heard the term, when Anya had finally told her the truth about who she was and where she'd come from. It hadn't gone over well - major revelations never did with Zee - but once the anger at being lied to faded, curiosity began to sit in. Who were they, what were they up to, how could Anya be sure she was safe?
The questions persisted in the back of Zee's mind even as she had moved on, back to her normal day-to-day routines and the more immediately pressing concern of what Cavan was going to have her do next. But if the Taiga were active and powerful enough to have tricked a highly trained military unit, eliminated or enslaved them, and kept Ben for all that time...
She didn't realize how tightly her hand had fisted around the sheets until she felt Ben's hand close around hers. Her jaw had clenched just as tight as her gaze drifted somewhere else as she listened to Ben narrate the horrors of the past few years, until she was drawn back to him by the sudden touch of his hand. Her eyes softened, her jaw relaxing as she saw just how much the trauma was reflected in his face. She ran her fingertips softly across his cheekbone, letting them drift down to stroke at his beard.
A small, lop-sided smile bloomed as she realized that the last time she'd seen Ben - actually seen him - all he'd been able to grow was peach fuzz. It seemed like a lifetime ago, when the world was hardly bigger than their little town, the harsh realities of life a known threat rather than an experienced scar. Her brow furrowed as she thought of everything that had come between them; their neighbors' bigotry, the Order, the Taiga. A low growl rumbled in her chest as the ice in her veins turned to fiery anger.
"I'm gonna kill every last one of those motherfuckers," she growled. "For you, and for Mama."
As he had explained his whereabouts for the past seven years, Ben got the sense that his story upset the weretiger. Tension radiated from her and he could practically feel the chill of an Alaskan winter coming off her skin despite the fact that their kind usually tended to run hot. An irrational fear that he had deeply buried surged to the surface that Zee would find his ordeal so upsetting that she would deny it happened. It wouldn't be the first time it had happened to someone in his unit. It had been an especially difficult wake-up call for spouses, girlfriends, and boyfriends to learn that their loved one was something more than they let on. That secret had broken more than a few relationships and there had always been an underlying fear during his capture that Zee, possibly even Alex and his family, would find it hard to swallow that he'd spent the last six or so years cage fighting against his will. Well, maybe Alex not-so-much. The two of them had always had that ridiculous Twin sixth sense thing about one another. Ben found it difficult to believe that Alex would take his "death" lying down. There had been that tiny reassurance, but Zee… Zee had been a different matter.
It had been the belief that one day, even if he had no idea when that day would be, that he would see his brother again, see her again, that kept his sanity intact. That kept him thinking, kept him observing, kept him looking for signs of a weakness to exploit. When he did, Ben exploited the shit out of it and ran. As much as it pained him to leave behind his fellow shapeshifters, he got the Hell out of Dodge and kept an eye on his six. He'd been doing a good job of that until a few days ago.
The apprehension he felt building up in his gut, across his shoulders, drained away at Zee's touch. A breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding released in a quiet sigh as his eyes closed on the lopsided grin he was so familiar with. It was finally beginning to sink in that he was safe for the time being when the angry growl forced his eyes open again and confusion followed.
"Wait… What does your mom have to do with this?"
"Nothing," Anya said shortly, stepping into the room. "Not for a very long time. And I like it like this."
She had come to check on Ben when she heard voices coming from the room down the hall, pausing at the door as she arrived in the midst of his story about becoming involved with the Taiga. It had put her on edge, wondering just how much of it was true. She wanted to believe it all, but she knew her clan better than that - especially after they'd already reminded her of their presence three years earlier. It had been quiet since then, but it didn't mean she had let her guard down.
The memory of Ben and his brother spending hours in her house, playing with Zee was not enough to spare him of her suspicions, nor was her daughter's strong affection him now. Zee was her blood. Ben was not.
"Зинка, пожалуйста, сделай нам чай," she told Zee, who obediently got up and, with one last look at Ben, retreated down the hall.
Anya settled onto the bed in Zee's place, gently checking under Ben's bandages to see how well he was healing.
"How lucky you found Zila's roof to land on, da?" she asked as she examined him, nodding in satisfaction at each wound she checked. It was going to take time, but he'd live. Carefully, she pulled back to blanket to look at his leg next.
"Benjamin, I want you to understand something," she sighed, turning from his leg to hold his gaze, her voice lowering to just above a whisper. Her demeanor shifted instantaneously from caretaker to predator as one hand squeezed his leg just a little too tight; it wasn't enough to cause him pain, but it was enough to get her point across.
"If you are lying, if you bring those sons of bitches here..." she paused, making sure she had his attention. "If you hurt my Zila, you will never have to worry about the Taiga again because I will kill you myself. Вы понимаете?"
The tone in which she asked Zee to go make tea was not new to Ben's ears; He'd heard it just enough in his youth causing mischief with the tiger and his twin to recognize that Anya wasn't pleased with him. The woman somehow mastered the art of being brusque yet polite when she scolded them that they thought twice before doing something so foolish again so soon (if at all, in some cases). The tone in which she expressed his fortune in finding Zee made him suspicious, but he could understand the feeling if she had been involved with the group he'd gotten away from. What made the adrenaline course through his blood again was the hand she placed on his leg and tightened just enough to give the implication of pain. The threat of physical pain, of even dying wasn't what made his blood run cold. It was the fact that someone he had implicitly trusted his whole life was threatening him.
Ben had concocted this fantasy, he supposed now, that if he ever saw Zee or Alex again, then everything would be okay; That everything would return to normal. Maybe that thought at the time had been the only way his brain, his psyche, could get through the horror he had to endure. Facing the reality that Life was not that simple caused Ben to release a sudden, yet soft laugh that he immediately swallowed lest Anya take it the wrong way and decide to swipe him across the face. Now that the tension he'd been feeling had found an outlet, however, Ben couldn't stop. Another snort of laughter tumbled free, the sound bordering on hysteria and moving into a sob as he tried to pull air into the tightness that had become his chest. One of his hands clapped over his eyes in a futile attempt at stopping the tears that spilled and turning his face away in shame. Ben had prided himself on being strong-willed, but never to the point of being domineering. The growing unrest in their community, it was a bad idea to show vulnerability at the wrong time and there were only four people he'd ever shown that to: His parents, obviously, Alex, and Zee. He thought he could last until seeing Alex before reaching his breaking point, but Anya had been effective in making her point for the simple fact that she was a mother protecting her only child.
When he got himself relatively under control, Ben returned her gaze with one full of mixed emotions. A sniffle and a nod was given before he murmured the only thing his brain could coherently muster, "Copy that, ma'am," with a smile that hardly reflected the positive vibe it was associated with.
Anya's face softened as the first sob escaped Ben. For a moment, she saw him as the same boy she had known in Alaska, looking small and frail under bandages and blankets, as though the pillows around him were about to swallow him up. She let out a soft sigh, her eyes dropping to the floor for a moment; she hated herself for having said such things to him, but she didn't regret it.
She looked back to Ben, her hand quickly leaving his leg to brush away the tears he was trying so hard to hide. He was a smart boy, but he had never been that good at lying to her, especially if Zee was involved. Her suspicions set aside, she gave him a soft, apologetic smile.
"I cried like this the day I left, all the way to Vladivostok," she confessed. "I thought, I am losing everything. My home, my family. But I am free now."
She let out a heavy sigh, her hands folding in her lap. "I am sorry to have done that. But you know them now. You know their cruelty. I had to be sure."
The sound of mugs clinking on a tray announced Zee's return with the requested tea. Even without looking, Anya knew the concerned look on her daughter's face as she surveyed the scene. With one last pat of Ben's hand and what she hoped was a reassuring smile, Anya got up from the bed and silently took her tea as she left the room.
"Uh... what the fuck was all that?" Zee asked as her mother left, moving to set the tray down on the nightstand.
She knew her mom had wanted to talk to Ben in private, that much had been obvious. But she'd kept an ear open for any signs of distress, and when nothing had alerted her to anything being wrong, she assumed it was all fine. Until she came back with the tea to find Ben looking distraught and Anya refusing to make eye contact with her.
The only thing she could think of was...
"Please tell me you're going to be okay," she murmured, forgetting about the tea for a moment so she could sit down and look Ben in the eye. "You're not dying on me again, are you?"