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HEART TO HEART ON A COUCH (trick or treat, freak part 3)
Ben sat there for a while. Leaning against the side of the house, whimpering in pain. A tear slipped out of the corner of his eye. He didn't understand what he did wrong. Yeah, he'd watched Nick in the yard that one day, but he wasn't spying on him. Ben heard distant yelling. "WILL?!" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His friend Will? There are plenty Will's, it could be anyone. Right?
Ben pulled himself up slowly, wiping the fallen tear off of his cheek. He bent down to pick up his broken mask and walked out from the side of the house, following the calls for Will. He ended up outside of another house, finding Mike with an arm around a terrified looking Will. "What happened? Are you okay?" Ben asked as he approached the two, his attention on Will. Will and Mike gasped, their eyes widening. "What happened to me? What happened to you?" Will asked. Mike looked at Ben in genuine concern. Ben didn't know if he liked that look.
Ben wiped the back of his hand against his bottom lip, wincing a tiny bit as it stung. "I um, I'm fine. It's nothing." He lied, a painful smile on his face. Mike shook his head. "It's not nothing. Come on, come to my place with us. We can talk about it there." Mike suggested, it seemed like he really did want Ben to go with them. So, Ben nodded, and the three made their way to Mike's house.
At Mike's, Ben had gone to the bathroom in Mike's basement to clean up his cuts. He didn't really know how to properly do so, so he wasn't doing it right. Using a wet rag to try and wipe the blood off. Ben opened the door slightly, stopping when he heard Mike and Will talking. "Just, don't tell the others. They wouldn't understand." Ben heard Will plead. A beat of silence. "Eleven would." Mike said quietly.
Eleven?Like the number? Ben shook his head and closed the door, deciding to not listen in on their conversation.
After a few more minutes of Ben trying to clean the blood off his face, there was a knock on the bathroom door. Ben opened it to see Mike waiting on the other side. "Hey," Ben greeted, looking over Mike's head to notice Will's lack of presence, "Where's Will?" Mike looked over his shoulder to the stairs leading to the basement exit. "He left. It's just us, I guess." He replied awkwardly with a shrug. Ben nodded. "Oh, cool."
"Totally."
There was a string of awkward silence, lasting a good thirty seconds. Mike broke it, clearing his throat. "Do you, uh, need help?" He asked, gesturing to Ben's sloppily cleaned wounds. Ben sheepishly nodded. Mike then grabbed the rag from Ben and went to the couch, sitting down. Ben followed and sat next to him.
Mike got to work on Ben's cuts, gently running the rag over his now-bruising cheek and his split lip while his other hand was placed on the nape of Ben's neck to hold his head still. Mike's eyes were squinted and focused, Ben watched him with curiosity, wincing every time Mike applied to much pressure to a cut or bruise. The injured boy was getting tired of the silence, so he asked, "Who's Eleven?"
