This wasn't working. His uncle Sam wasn't even looking at the proof, was so superior and certain he was right and, sin of all sins on this day, he'd rebuffed his grandma. That was going to make her cry, Ben knew it, and he was torn between the need to enact swift revenge on someone for hurting her and knowing he couldn't because it was his uncle Sam.
But Ben knew if he didn't get out of here soon, he was going to do something embarrassing like cry too, out of sheer frustration, but also more than frustration, out of hurt that there was nothing in Sam, even though he'd been given in-the-know fake memories, that would let him believe this. Maybe... maybe he didn't want to. Maybe he liked his fake life better. Ben didn't know, but what he did know was that he couldn't stand having his uncle Sam, amnesia or not, make fun of him if he did cry.
"That's it. Don't talk to my grandma anymore or I'm gonna-" he growled rather than finish the sentence, because there was really nothing he could do that he wouldn't feel bad about... well, nothing except yell.
"You don't have ALL OF THE HYPERION. You don't have ALL OF THE GOOD GUYS. You don't have ALL OF THE IN-THE-KNOW PEOPLE. You don't have ANYONE OUTSIDE OF L.A." Ben shoved his way past Sam, scooping up the pictures and albums and things and placing them back in the boxes. "You don't wanna believe us, fine. You don't wanna even LOOK at our proof because you're a douchebag who apparently actually sucks at his fake life job because you're just throwing it all aside without actually researching it, FINE." He shut his own laptop with more force than necessary, but was still surprisingly careful with Sam's prized laptop as he laid in the box.
"But don't you stand there and act all like everybody here knows you when half or more know you as the guy WE SAID YOU ARE. Ask them! Jacen, Buffy, Fred, Xander, some of the others. Ask them if you're REALLY a Watcher." That part pissed Ben off the most, in the end. All these 'allies', all these people who swore they wanted to see people okay, weren't doing a damn thing to fix any of it. They were too busy making excuses for why they wouldn't. They'd probably just pat his uncle Sam on the head and try to avoid answering.
Screw them.
"They'll try and get out of agreeing with you," he explained, disgusted, as he stacked the boxes to carry away. So much proof and it hadn't even been locked at, "because they don't want to break your brain, but if you make them tell the truth, the truth is gonna be that you're the guy WE SAID YOU ARE, THE GUY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE."
He'd try again. He'd try again after he licked his wounds. For now, he needed to get the hell out of this hotel.
"I hope you get some real brains back soon, instead of the shit they stuck you with. Come on, Grandma, let's go," he said, looking up at her. The tears he'd wanted to avoid were there, but even Mary only would get a brief sight of them, as Ben quickly turned back and lifted the boxes.