Ben had had a good hour and a half to contemplate life. Sitting in the hospital room, high on morphine, he'd thought about all the things going on with him and had decided that, ultimately, he just had to go right up to his father and confront him.
Even if it meant leaving the hospital and walking all the way home.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he shoved himself to his feet, quickly taken over by a wave of dizziness. "Oh, shit..." he mumbled. His head felt like it was splitting open painlessly.
Well, that didn't make sense...
Maybe it was... being opened by some sort of fairy dust... magically... gently...
But why was his head splitting open at all?
Shoving the thoughts aside, he got up and began stumbling his way to the curtains. He crashed into the chair by the bed, grunting as his hip collided with it. It didn't hurt as much as he'd been expected and he nervously looked at the dresser, holding his breath.
"You thought that would hurt, huh?" he grinned, giddy excitement surging through him. "Sucker."
He glanced down at himself, finding blood beginning to stain his hospital gown. Had Ewan said something about not getting up? He actually couldn't remember, so maybe it didn't matter.
"Wait, did you..." He squinted at the dresser before looking back at his wounds. "No, that... that came from the... the being stabbed..."
He sighed in confusion, feeling slightly exhausted and very nauseated. Licking his lips, he pushed himself off the chair and continued his struggle towards the curtains.
Just as he made it to the curtain, it flew to the side, revealing the demon, the demon's host's girlfriend holding a giant bottle of something in one hand and someone else in the other. No matter how hard he squinted, he couldn't pinpoint who the someone else was.
She raised her eyebrows upon looking him over. "Jesus Christ," she mumbled. "That's a bit of blood."
"Hello! Welcome back," he sang, stretching out his arms happily in greeting.
Ewan's eyes widened. "Ben! Ben, sit down, you idiot, oh, Great Hell..."
The boy rushed in, beginning to gently push him back into the bed, but Ben didn't want to sit down. He gripped Ewan's shoulders, trying to keep himself planted as he looked over the other's shoulders.
"Wait," he whined, turning to the blonde girl with the bright pink lips. She looked far more done than he remembered. "Rain, it's so nice to see you. So nice. God, it's nice to see you. I-I'm - well, Ewan stuck me with the morphine, so that's so also nice. I think-"
"This is Ben Sawyer now?" scoffed the girl he didn't know. She was oddly striking in the fact that she looked to care about very little. "It's a wonder he's not dead yet."
"I try my hardest," Ben grinned. "And you are?"
"Well, he's on morphine," Ewan vouched for Ben. Both of them ignored his question entirely. "And you don't try at all, Ben."
Soon, Ben couldn't fight the other, and he grunted in distaste as he was sat in the bed. But it was comfortable. He sighed, grabbing for the blanket, but Ewan smacked his hand.
"You opened your wounds, Ben. Unless you want to bleed out - actually, never mind. Just lay down, okay?"
"Yessir," Ben said solemnly, trying to look as serious as possible. Ewan looked serious as all Hell, so he ought to be as well.
Ewan rolled his eyes, getting the medical kit beside the bed. "Maybe I like this Ben better. Not constantly throwing himself into danger and actually listening to me." He reached up and tugged Ben's hospital gown down until it was around his waist.
As the other began to work on the now open wounds in his body, Ben directed his gaze to the new girl. He smiled crookedly. "Who are you?"
She glanced up in suppressed shock, a bottle in her hand. Ben recognized it from when Ewan had filled up the syringe. It was his morphine. And everything clicked instantly - this was Phoebe. The girl who'd died.
"Phoebe!" he announced. "Man, you've changed."
Rain and Ewan hushed him at the same time.
"Well, it's been eight years since you kicked everyone out of your life and left me for dead with the barbaric kids of middle school," she grumbled, plopping down on the floor.
Ben set his head back, closing his eyes. "Well, my mother had just died and I was very upset because my father wouldn't talk to me about my emotions. I felt like an abandoned little child lost in a desert with... with nothing but a motorcycle and all the money in the world." He set his head up, blinking absently. He'd thought something was missing. "And a friend - where's Ezra?"
"He's still in school," Rain chimed in, taking a giant swig of her drink which he soon decided was vodka. "Some of us would rather not skip class to help a drug addict."
"Which one?" Phoebe asked rhetorically.
"What time is it?" Ben asked, looking up to the ceiling. He'd never noticed a few patterns on it - like the strange red pattern darting across his vision...
No, that was blood.
He wiped at his eye, grunting, looking back as Rain began to talk.
"He'll be here in an hour or something," Rain said as she tilted the bottle back and chugged.
Ben grimaced, thinking of what it must have been doing to her throat.
"So what did you need me for?" Phoebe asked. "Of course, not to make it about me or anything. I was just dragged out of what would've been rehab and watched two people get beaten up by a demon and his clearly non-demon sidekick."
Rain raised an eyebrow in shock. "I could be a demon."
"With your temper, sure," Phoebe said.
"I - no, really," Rain snapped. "I could be a demon very easily."
Phoebe raised an eyebrow in return, sitting up a little. "You used a taser." She nodded to Ewan. "He used his mind."
"Guess what I can do," Ben teased, grinning mischievously. "I can control the weather. And I can tell you if you're going to-"
"Alright," snapped Ewan. A needle was shoved into Ben's stomach and he grunted in pain, glancing down to find his last wound being stitched up. But all the blood was gone.
"Thanks," Ben cooed, grinning at Ewan, who smothered a grin of his own.
"So what's the plan?" Ben asked eagerly. Now was the perfect time to get everything done. Get Charlie straight back from Hell, get Phoebe in better shape, do plenty of other God-pleasing things. Or whatever Ewan wanted to do, actually.
"That's what I just asked," Phoebe said softly, her voice dying in the quick reply from Rain.
"I thought you knew the plan," snapped the blonde.
"Do you know the plan?" Ben asked, recoiling at Rain's intensity.
"No, I - God! Who knows the plan?!"
"I do," Ewan hissed, and Ben slowly snaked his arm through across the bed to hold Ewan's hand. "But please just... wait."
Ben grinned. "Ewan?"
"Yes?" the other growled, turning his head to look at Ben.
"Can I get more morphi-"
"No," Ewan said. "No, you need to get this out of your system. I'm not into Druggie-Ben."
This caused a giggle to surface from Ben, and he tilted his head. "So you're into me sometimes?"
The other stopped, looking at him with a frighteningly stern look. "Of course I am," he said firmly, making uncomfortable eye contact. "I'm into you all the time."
Ben set his head back, wiggling his eyebrows at the ladies. "He's into me all the time," Ben whispered.
This drew an astounded look from Rain as she gaped like a fish out of water, only to chug down half of the bottle in one swig. Then she slammed it down on the desk and stood up. "Alright, I want answers," she seethed. "Who the Hell is my boyfriend and why on Earth is he into Ben Sawyer? Is this why you haven't invited me over at all this month?"
The room went quiet. Ben knew that he and Ewan had a secret - one that Ezra and Charlie knew, but not Stirling's own girlfriend. And it wasn't their right to keep it a secret. Ben wanted to giggle about it - wanted to rush up and comfort the girl. But he didn't move and just kept his mouth shut.
Tears came to Rain's eyes as she narrowed her eyes. "What happened to Stirling?" she breathed.
Everyone seemed to stop. In fact, time seemed to stop as Rain stared at the Ewan. He held his breath, setting his head back on his arms.
"Is..." Rain's voice trembled. She swallowed shakily before continuing, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Is my boyfriend dead?" Her gaze slipped to Ben, her eyes soon squinting to an unshakable scowl that was blurred and tainted by tears. "Did you kill him?"
"Alright..." Phoebe mumbled, standing up. She looked done with everything, still. "I doubt he-"
Rain whipped around, pointing an accusatory finger at the silver-haired girl. "No, you don't get a say in this. You don't get to even insinuate that Ben didn't kill Stirling. Because you haven't known this Satan child for four years. You didn't watch him cut up everyone you knew like some sort of psychopath - no, you were too busy drowning yourself in drugs to notice that Grayville Highschool was going up in flames because of this kid."
"And look what you've been busy doing," Phoebe muttered emotionlessly, nodding to the bottle of vodka. She chuckled, shrugging and crossing her arms. "I'm not judging you, Rain, I pity you. I smell death on you. And I'm sorry." She took in a sigh, glancing around the room. "But your boyfriend isn't dead. That I can smell, too."
Ben went quiet. He glanced the girl in orange over, biting his lip.
They'd been friends at the beginning of middle school before he'd told everyone his mother died. She was a quiet kid who hung around a small group of people. Her home life hadn't been great, with two destructive parents and some acclaimed tie to death. It made people distance themselves from her and got her thrown in the psych ward plenty of times.
Phoebe started doing drugs to "silence the voices." He never understood what that meant - and frankly, he still didn't. He just knew it got bad enough for her to kill herself. And after she succeeded, she was "somehow" brought back to life. After that, she just stayed on drugs - kept pumping herself full of them, relentlessly. Maybe in hopes of killing herself, maybe in hopes of just keeping the voices silent.
He never understood what it meant, but maybe it had something to do with death.
And if it did, if she did know about people's deaths, that meant Stirling was alive - most likely. And that meant Ben never actually killed anyone which meant he was fine. Which meant they should celebrate.
"Let's have a party!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Stirling's aliiiive!"
"Ben, now is really not the time-" Ewan began, but Phoebe nodded.
"Yes," she agreed, "we should have a party."
"And we'll invite Ezra," Ben began, "and Charlie, who's actually dead, so-"
"He's what?" screeched Rain.
"Well, h-his soul is in Hell, I mean," stammered Ben, "and that's why we need Phoebe, to get it back."
"But first we're having a party," Phoebe said, seemingly unphased by what Ben said, which was very nice.
"And we'll invite everyone," continued Ben, slamming his hands on the bed and sitting up.
"Last time everyone at school was invited, everyone almost died," Ewan mumbled.
Phoebe grinned. "All the more reason to."
"Well, no," said Ben, "but also yes." He made a face. "Actually, no. Not at all."
"Ben," Ewan groaned, "this is a bad idea. You're still recovering-"
"I'm fine," Ben reassured, standing up. "Just give me more morphine in, like, two hours and we'll be good to go. For now, we plan. Rain," he said, pointing dramatically, "are you coming?"
The blonde-haired girl stood there silently. Her face was twisted in some sort of displeased, confused, unhappy soup but soon she grabbed the vodka bottle with a flourish. "Whatever. Fine. Yes."
"And you'll invite everyone," Ben demanded, grinning happily.
"This is insane," Ewan mumbled.
"What's insane is that you're not on board," Ben said, turning to face the other. He felt light. Almost like a feather if a feather was dizzy and nauseous. And if a feather could actually feel this light - because he felt light.
"You're still recovering," Ewan griped, "and we have to save Charlie's soul."
"Yes, but we have time," Ben noted, grinning. "Plus, why not."
The demon sighed through his nose, glancing passed Ben. He watched the curtains sway and turned to find Rain had left, and Phoebe was stuffing something in her pocket as she moved the curtains to the side.
The two locked gazes and Ben called, "The lake! Meet me at the lake at five!" Raising his voice so Rain could hear, he continued, "And bring the alcohol!" The door shut behind Phoebe, and further down, Ben could hear the front door close as well.
Ben and Ewan were left alone. The mortal boy looked down at Ewan and couldn't help but grin happily at the sight of him. "You're so nice to me," he babbled. "Patching me up... letting me have a party..."
"I'm not going," Ewan said. "And I don't think you should, either. Look at the state you're in, Ben - is that party material?" The demon stood up, crossing his arms. "Once the morphine wears off and you're feeling absolutely drained, you'll wish you hadn't done this."
"Ewan," Ben said slowly, "it's just a party."
"No, it isn't just a party," growled the other. His eyes looked to Ben's chest, where all the wounds were. Soon the two locked eyes again. "This is you doing irrational things, not thinking about what's best for you. You may think it's just a party, Ben, but really, this is you throwing yourself in harm's way because you don't think. You don't think about what anyone wants for you. You don't think that maybe I want you to be safe and healthy - I want you to recover so that we can get Charlie back from Hell and so that we can take on the bloody hoards of demons coming after you for no reason."
Ben went quiet, just looking the other over. Then he scoffed, looking to the side. "It's just a party," he mumbled. "Plus I really want to get drunk tonight. I'm sure there's a lot of sad shit I could be thinking about."
Ewan looked at him silently, eyes narrowed. Then he nodded. "Right." He put his hands in his pockets, casting Ben a disapproving look. "Fine. But when you're hurting - maybe not physically, Ben, but you'll be hurting - I won't be there for you. Because I'm done with this self-destructive behavior."
"Fine," Ben snapped. "Whatever." He pointed to the curtains surrounding his bed. "Get out, then."
The two held each other's gazes intensely. Ben was angry - he could feel the morphine practically being burned in his body as he just glared at him, holding his breath. The glare itself was painful. Not because he was in physical pain, but because hurting Ewan like this - being in this situation with someone he needed - felt like Hell.
But Ewan needed to learn that this wasn't self-destructive behavior. This was Ben wanting to have fun for once.
Ewan let out a shaky breath. "You're going to regret this, Ben," he warned.
And then he turned on his heel and pushed through the curtains. Ben was left alone in the room with the fading effects of the morphine and nothing left to ease the pain.
And outside, the weather began to storm.
The nurse said he had a visitor half an hour after the morphine completely wore off. Ben was left laying in the blood-soaked bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the nurse ask if it was okay. His body felt like it was on fire. It hurt to lay on his stomach, on his back, on his side. It sent a searing pain all through his body, making him lay still until the nurse asked more firmly if a visitor was okay.
Letting out a slow sigh, he pried himself to his feet and looked up at her. This was going to be incredibly difficult.
His eyes soon fell upon a pair of crutches. His jaw clenched as he realized they were probably stolen by Ewan, as they had a little sticky note attached to them. He shakily picked it off, reading it.
You didn't have to say you needed these. Pretty sure you need them.
It was written in the sort of handwriting that only came from someone not writing after hundreds of years. Someone who'd been in Hell for that long.
Ben snorted, almost feeling like he was going to cry, but he held himself together. This was a dumb thing to care about, wasn't it? He didn't need to care. He could function perfectly with or without Ewan.
It didn't matter.
A crushing feeling of nausea washed over him, and he collapsed to his knees, stomach aching. Chills raced through him, making him shudder and groan, setting his back gently against the wall.
The nurse knelt beside him. "Ben? I-"
"I'm fine," he snapped. "I'm really, really fine."
She went quiet before nodding and leaving.
The curtain opened again and a blond boy stepped in, glancing around helplessly. His blond hair was matted down by rain and his blue plaid shirt was darkened by it, as well as his khaki's. "Ben?" he asked curiously. Worry laced his voice and he wrinkled his nose, probably at the scent of the blood drenching the bed.
"Hey," breathed Ben. The mere act of talking sent static through his skin. It made his stomach ache.
The sight of Ezra, though, made him smile sadly. "Your... bodies working," he breathed, voice breaking. That was more than a miracle. In fact, the entirety of Ezra living and breathing right there in front of him made him feel like he had something he didn't deserve. "A-And you're... you're alive. With your soul."
Ezra grinned. "Yeah," he mumbled. "It's really nice to be alive. And to be the only soul in my body... Thanks."
Ben let out a breath. "You shouldn't be thanking me."
The boy sat down beside him, setting his back against the wall. "Why? 'Cause you've been in a coma for five days?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, grinning. "I got to listen to you for two of them, by the way."
Ben snickered, looking up at the ceiling. The pain blossomed when he laughed but it was worth it. Just the idea of Ezra being there - the idea that he was sitting beside Ben, living, breathing... Ben would almost die for him again. He'd endure twice as much pain if it meant bringing him back.
"Yeah," he mumbled, "sorry about that, too. But..." He rolled his eyes. "I'm also sorry for getting you into this mess at all."
"At least you can't be the edgy hero that says-" Ezra scrunched up his face in a menacing sort of way- "'Everyone I get close to dies,'" he growled darkly.
"Well," Ben mused. He looked out the window. The... fully in-tact window, unlike the one in his room. "And to be fair, Ezra, you did put glass in me."
"I flinched," Ezra vouched, scoffing mockingly. "You didn't notice I was possessed for two days, though."
"He was very good at acting like you," Ben whispered. He lowered his gaze to his hands, which were fidgeting. Licking his lips, he uttered, "I really thought I lost you, Ezra."
The other lifted a hand, planting it on Ben's head and ruffling his hair gently. "Sorry."
Ben chuckled weakly - it was more like a broken scoff, and he rubbed his mouth in an attempt to center himself. His body ached, though, and the action made him let out a weak groan. "So how was Heaven?"
The other retracted his hand, clasping both of them in his lap. He looked happy - a gentle smile lightened his face as he looked absently at the ceiling. "What makes you think I went to Heaven?"
Ben clicked his tongue, setting his head back and tilting his head to gaze at the other. Everything hurt but it felt better, numbed, maybe, at the sight of Ezra's smile. Because he was alive. It was... crazy. "Come on," he beamed.
Ezra grinned in reply, letting out a breath through his nose. After a second, he nodded. "Yeah, I went to Heaven. All I'm saying is there are a... ton of old people."
"Your crowd, then," Ben said.
"Yeah," Ezra giggled. "They had the most wrinkly skin in the world - it was crazy. I'm pretty sure you never stop aging in Heaven, actually, because their skin was... it was just crazy, dude."
The two went quiet and the realization sunk into Ben like a beautiful pearl into water. He swallowed dryly, whispering, "You could see?" It didn't sound like a question, more of a blank statement.
The other nodded again. He didn't continue.
"I... I'm sorry," Ben apologized, sitting up straighter with pain. "For bringing you ba-"
"What?" Ezra butted. "No. Ben, I saw... I saw people again. I saw Heaven. I- I saw myself. I saw people I didn't know and they were happy." He let out a shaky breath, eyes drifting to the side. His smile spoke volumes of sadness. "But I didn't see you."
"You..." Ben ran a hand through his hair, getting it out of his face. "You could have had everything, Ezra. You had Heaven."
The other grinned humorlessly, tilting his head down. "It wasn't worth it."
Ben let out a breath through his nose. He didn't know what to say. His mind went blank as he just mumbled, "Thank you." He swallowed weakly. "Thank you for coming back."
"Anyway," said the other with finality, finishing the depressing and somehow also uplifting conversation, "what happened while I was gone? Or, possessed."
"Uh," Ben grunted, running a hand over his face. "I died. And Ewan and I... I think we got together and then... didn't. I-"
"You died, too?!" exclaimed Ezra, grinning happily. He pushed Ben's shoulder, sending him to the ground. Ben coughed out blood, something very wrong happening in his body. He pushed himself back up, glancing over to watch Ezra's eyes light up. "We both died! That's so cool. We're, like... death buddies... or some- did you..." He swallowed nervously, waiting a second to speak. When he did, he lowered his voice, saying, "Did you go to Hell?"
Ben shook his head. "No," he croaked, settling himself and letting the pain numb a little. "I, uh... actually, I saw my mom."
"Oh," mumbled Ezra. He clicked his tongue. "What was that like?"
"She..." Ben rolled his eyes, realizing how weird this sounded. "Well, I was in Limbo. She was there - it wasn't Tiana, though, it was... it was really her, and-"
"Wait," Ezra chimed, holding up a finger. "Wait. Tell me about it over a beer."
"We don't have-"
With a shit-eating grin, the boy pulled two beers from his shirt sleeves.
Ben hesitated. He looked out the window at the weather, finding it was now brighter. Sunnier... Healthier.
"Alright," he said. And he smiled.
The beer did a great job at numbing the pain. That, and Ezra. They both had this sort of healing quality that made Ben grin happily and forget that he even had wounds. Mental and physical.
They didn't talk about Ewan because Ben didn't care quite as much, and they didn't keep talking about his brush with death because Ben also didn't care. They only talked about what had changed and what would change. They talked about what was going to happen to them after high school and they talked about the fact that Ben needed a goldfish, as was Ewan's suggestion once.
And then they talked about the party and Ezra tilted his head to the side in question and asked if it was really a good idea, with the state Ben was in and, "frankly, in the state Grayville is in," and Ben knew the answer was no but he said the answer was yes.
They talked until Ben realized it was time for the party. Whatever the party was going to be. He didn't know who would be there, didn't necessarily care, but he knew he wanted to go - needed to go. Even if Ewan wasn't going. Even if he didn't approve - especially if he didn't approve.
"I can't drive," Ben said blankly, staring at the ceiling. They had moved to the bed and they both just lay there, unmoving, empty bottles in hand. "Can you?"
"No," Ezra mused, "I don't think I can. I've never tried - should I?"
Ben glanced over at his pearl-eyed friend and said slowly, "No."
The other clicked his tongue, nodding in agreement. After a moment of consideration, he suggested, "Well, I've never been in an Uber - we could try that."
And that's how they decided to call an Uber. It took them five minutes to get there, an added five minutes of Ben frantically searching for a change of clothes which ended up being his entirely blood-soaked clothes from before, with ten minutes of sneaking around the hospital, plus a twenty-minute drive, plus five minutes of Ewan fumbling around in his wallet to find some cash. They got to the party thirty minutes late only to find it wasn't quite a party at all. It was just a few teens with drugs and beer around a campfire. But what had Ben expected, really.
Ben and Ezra stumbled out of the car, approaching the lake.
Phoebe was the first to notice them. She raised her eyebrows in a sort of mock interest, spreading her arms a little in disinterested greeting. "Ben. That sweater looks awful... come have a beer."
"What's wrong with the sweater?" Ezra mumbled as they walked to the group.
"Maybe because it's inside out?" Ben blinked groggily, looking down at himself. Then he clicked his tongue. "No, I know why."
Ezra just gave a bubbly giggle in reply, and the two sat down on coolers and logs when they got to the river. They sat beside each other, and Ben lifted the lid on the other cooler to take a beer, popping the lid off and handing it to Ezra.
His eyes roamed the group as he got his own beer.
There were four other drunk teens. A giddy Rain downing a beer, Phoebe looking absolutely dragged with drugs, and two other boys in the lake, swimming. They were talking indistinctly and Ben wondered if that was normal now. Swimming and... not being chased by demons.
"Just like Ben Sawyer to show up with blood on his shirt," Rain observed, drawing Ben's attention.
"Demons," Ben blurted. "It was demons, sorry."
"Demons," Rain giggled. "Right, right."
"Wait, we shouldn't tell them," Ezra whisper-yelled, nudging Ben. He grinned. "That's a secret."
Ben shrugged. "It was Ewan's secret." He looked at the ground numbly, thinking about the demon he'd left behind. But he was probably at Stirling's house. Doing nothing but... be dumb and demonic.
He was broken from his thoughts by a beer bottle knocking against his. Blankly, he looked down at it, nestled in the dirt now, and he gradually picked it up. Moving was beginning to hurt a little more, so he figured he should drink, if only for his physical well-being.
"You look like Hell," Phoebe said blatantly.
"Thanks," Ben croaked, mind blanking on an appropriate response. He opened the bottle of beer and tilted his head back, chugging about half the bottle before grimacing and setting it on his thigh. He coughed, feeling his lungs burn and his throat constrict. But it was fine. It was what he needed.
He nodded to the boys in the lake. "Who are they?"
"Normal people humans," Phoebe said, lifting her eyebrows as if she was giving shocking advice. "The ones that don't know about dead people."
"And what's he, then?" Rain asked, eyes focused on Ezra. She giggled again. "Some sort of medium?"
"I-" Ezra choked on his words, looking almost offended as he rubbed his thumb against his palm. "Well, I got possessed by a demon and I died."
"Because of you," a voice taunted.
It was a familiar voice that sent chills down Ben's spine, and gradually he looked to the side to find the brown-haired boy sitting beside him on the cooler. He had his elbows on his knees, the fire reflecting in his tear-filled eyes. But he didn't look sad - rather, his face was twisted into a look of confused anger, and his eyes slid over to Ben.
"And you let me die," he mumbled.
Charlie looked back at the fire, shrugging absently.
"I didn't want you to," Ben whispered. He didn't know what Charlie was doing there - didn't know what he was talking to or how Charlie got there. He was going to justify things.
"Oh, I know," Ezra said, putting a hand on Ben's head. Ben flinched, looking back over at the other boy, who had a sad smile on his face. "It wasn't your fault, buddy."
Ben glanced back over to Charlie, but he was gone. Now he stood by the lake, arms crossed. Tears ran down his cheeks but he had the same look as before. "How many people have to die before you can't fix it, Ben?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "How many people have to sacrifice themselves for you before you realize you're not worth saving?"
"I know that already," Ben mumbled, coughing weakly. "I know that."
"Ben?" Ezra asked, drawing his attention.
Rain giggled. "Who's he talking to?"
"Someone dead," Phoebe replied flatly. "I mean, he seems dead. He seems really dead... A little too dead for one person, actually."
"What did I die for, Ben?" Charlie seethed, tilting his head. "Just for you to sit around, get shit-faced drunk and talk to addicts? Did I die for nothing, Ben? Because that's what it feels like."
"You didn't die for nothing," Ben breathed, standing up. Rain doused the fire and wind whipped his hair. Pain ricocheted through him with every step, making him grunt and groan in pain, but he had to get his point across. He had to tell Charlie - he had to make him understand. "I'm going to save you, okay, I'm going to get your soul back, I promise, I just can't-"
"I don't think you can," Charlie said. He shrugged, unaffected by the storm brewing. Not even a hair moved. "And I don't think you will. Do you know why, Ben?"
A hand was on his shoulder. Someone whispered a warning but he couldn't hear it. He could only hear his heartbeat and white noise.
And Ben stood there, panting, trembling, his heart aching. His body aching more, and his mind running wild. But he was angry, above all, because he could do this, he knew he could. He just didn't know how yet.
"Because you're weak and you're emotional. And Ewan will never love you for it." Charlie shrugged. "No one could love you for i-"
Lightning struck before he could stop it.
It exploded in front of them, throwing Ben into the dirt. His ears rang as he coughed weakly, staring up into the cloudy night sky, unable to catch his breath. Slowly, he sat up.
Water flooded out of the lake but all he heard was white noise. And there was a sinking feeling in his chest and he knew it wasn't right. Something wasn't right. He'd done something wrong - too wrong to fix. Too wrong to be forgiven.
It was the smell of burned bodies that made him let out a silent sob, tears brimming in his eyes.
His chest constricted. His mind went blank and he couldn't breathe. All he could understand was that his body ached and he couldn't think.
Wheezing, he shoved himself to his feet and looked around, gasping for breath.
Everyone looked dead. Phoebe lay still, face blackened with dirt and soot. Rain's arm was broken for absolute certain and her hair was black with disaster. And Ezra was on his side, not breathing.
Ben groaned, collapsing to his knees and clutching his chest. His throat had thorns in it and they clustered in his lungs like beetles, and he could feel fire on his face but he didn't know if it was real or not. And rain punished his skin and made him choke, sputtering and coughing with every ounce of strength he had left.
All he could do was sob silently as he hugged himself, body tightening and limbs beginning to go numb.
No one could save him. Not this time.
But maybe it was because he wasn't worth saving.