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Log Title: Hurt So Much

Log setting: Outside Ben and Walker’s new home

Log Cast:
Benjamin Jason

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A cobbled path cuts through a small stretch of grass, leading up to a short flight of steps which in turn open out onto a raised porch skirted with thick, green shrubs cut low to expose the white picketed rail fencing the stoop in. Dark green patio chairs have been set up on the stoop, three chairs and a small table.

The white peaked roof -- a split-level affair with a higher rise and hint of attic space above the main house -- provides the sunshade to shelter the stoop, the underside supporting a whitewashed porch swing. A trellis further shades the swing, just beginning to be covered by rich green ivy. Beyond the wall of green three long windows provide a view from the inside of the shotgun house, each nearly as long as the exterior wall and hung with drapes on the inside. Outside faux shutters of dark blue frame each sparkling pane of glass.

The door is to the far left, warm oak varnished goldentone and stylized with gentle swirls carved into the wood. A small window is etched with roses and the whole door is trimmed neatly in white to offset the blue-gray exterior. Wrought iron twisted into an ornate design qualifiable as gothic protects the door, sturdy and lovely at the same time. A brass porchlight hangs nearby to illuminate the stoop in the evenings, elegantly complimenting the lines of the security door. Above the door, shiny brass numbers mark this quaint house 269.

Taking advantage of a fair-weather day, a figure in tattered overalls and somewhat smudged with thoughtless dirt crouches on the lawn of 269 Bourbon. The house itself is still half-painted, and the shutters are piled up against the house, waiting to be hung. But far from these more difficult tasks, Ben is enjoying the more leisurely duty of re-tying the climbing ivy that's growing up over the trellis next to the door. A new row of rosebushes lead down the sunlit "alley" of lawn to the side, nestled in fresh soil.

How... domestic. But then again, what would Ben be if not domestic? Jason's been quietly hidden about the neighborhood all morning, waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Like... soon as Walker's gone and the housecleaning fairy has been caught up in his duties. Which would be now. His slight figure slips out from one of the abandoned yards of a yet-to-be-renovated house a little down the street and comes padding up the sidewalk. The now-fuzzheaded urchin makes it to the head of the walk to 269 and crouches down, so as to be more in your line of sight. "Hey, Ben," comes the soft, familiar voice from the quite unfamiliar form. Change has certainly come to the kid. But has it been for the better? Hard to tell yet.

"Hey, Jason," Ben replies automatically, not even looking up from his tying at first. You have to get these little ones just right or they won't grow -up-, they'll grow all cockeyed and fall back down again. But after a moment he's distracted from this example of man's fitting nature into his schema, by the faint tugging memory that he's not supposed to be hey-ing anyone named Jason. Especially not... carefully, Ben glances up, regarding the shorn sheep with eyes confused, as ever, but guarded and wary at the same time. "Jason." It doesn't look like the kid he last saw huddled against the wall of the old house, but it sounds like him and there's no mistaking those eyes. He takes a scooting-step back, one hand on the trellis to help himself to a shaky stand. Again, not sure and rather in disbelief, "Jason?"

Jason cocks his head, unable to help a little wry smile at your initial reaction. He was pretty much expecting that, but it's still... well, Ben. There's a hint of wistfulness in those deep green eyes he has, but he quickly and quietly hides that away as your more 'aware' reactions come to the fore. The abbreviated redhead runs a hand back over the fuzzed remains of the hair that'd otherwise be dragging on the ground right now, shrugging one shoulder. "Yeah, guess that might be me." Then the emerald orbs look past you towards the house, the early afternoon sun flashing in them as they move. "Anyone home?" he asks simply. Walker may be gone, but who knows who else'd take a shot at him if given half a chance.

Benjamin shakes his head a little, coming to a full stand with one hand still on the trellis. Maybe for support, for the man is obviously shaken. Different appearance or not, in his mind this is the same Jason that pushed Jordan down the stairs, destroyed his home, and ultimately led Holly to attempt suicide. Or at least, that's the progression of memories through Ben's mind. Keeping a careful distance between you and himself, he murmurs, "No. No one's home. I can't imagine you'd come here if you didn't already know that, though." Forgiveness will not come easy, not judging by the hard-edged bitterness in the voice so calm and gentle in memory.

Jason stays right where he is, crouched at the end of the walk. He lets out a soft sigh and shakes his head at your words, though. He'd hoped, but already knew the blame fell pretty much on his shoulders in all eyes but a certain pair of hazels. And, besides, he does look a lot like he's on the hardened side right now - new piercing, shaved head, much leaner than even before. Mostly the look in his eyes, though, the wild look he often got seems to have been stuck there permenantly. So he understands your reaction. Even appreciates it. But it's not what he's looking for today. "Nah, guess I did know." He shrugs again, shifting his weight from one side to the other and running the fingers of one hand along a crack in the sidewalk. "Y'know, Ben," he starts off already. Might as well. Eyes lower to follow the progress of the fingers. "We didn' talk 'lot, but I 'member that we did - s'why I came ta ya that day." He wipes the fingers off on his jeans and glances up again. "Too much shit went on, though. 'N I'm kinda sick of it all. Was sick when it started, but now I'm really sick. It's gotta end fer everyone 'fore anything can begin." He tilts his head to one side, watching you. Probably didn't understand, but is there even an attempt to listen? That's all he needs right now.

Benjamin isn't turning away, so maybe that's a good sign. He's still facing you and no doors have slammed, whether they be house doors or emotional doors. Those closed ones are the ones he always has closed. Nothing's going to betray him today. "Yes." The words make sense, and he knows as well as anyone that you have to overcome the past before you can move on to the future. "That's what we're trying to do here. Holly and I have made a clean break with that old life. I would have thought by the state you left our house in that you had rather made a break with it, too." So calm, so placid, but managing not to become distant. This is his life, and yours, and to step back from it would be to deny it. So he stands amidst it and just is. That's Ben for you.

Yeah, the old house... Jason lets out a soft sigh and, get this, can't really look at you for a moment. "If it was a clean break, mebbe everything'd have been easier." But then he fixes his eyes on yours, the swirling green intense - he believes the words he's about to give you. "But it weren' clean, was it? Bone's all stickin' out an' beggin' ta be infected while everyone tries ta ignore it. I don' wanna have this disease no more, Ben. It made me do things that..." He laughs softly and looks away, shaking his head as if to shift phantom hair from his eyes. "What good if it festers? It keeps goin'. S'time fer it ta be over. I got some good mem'ries, but they all goin' black 'round the edges from what happened." Once again, he looks up. "What happened on /both/ sides." No, he can't really forgive either, because it's clear no one's even asked for his forgiveness. Nor will they, he suspects. "S'time ta move on, 'n ya really think that's gonna happen if you look like that everytime ya say my name or I..." Or he does what he does. "Karma gotta stop somewhere."

Benjamin folds his arms, unmindful of the handful of ties he still has in one hand. They'll find a safe home sooner or later. "Everyone makes mistakes. If we didn't, we wouldn't be human." The calm, measured words barely carry down the walk, but in the silence of the setting sun and the warmth of a quiet neighborhood, Ben has a much better chance of being heard. "Trust was broken all around, and you can't have a family without trust. It's going to be very difficult for Holly and I to forgive. To forget, maybe we can do that." His forehead pinches a little, pained memories still needling at him. Nightmares still bathing him in cold sweats whenever he's feeling his most peaceful. Demons of fear that won't let him forget yet. "Maybe you need to do the same thing, Jason. Learn to forget. Appreciate what we had but understand that now it's over."

Jason blows air out his lips like he was trying to blow aside non-existant locks. Eyes flash for an instant. "/Why/ do ya think I came here, Ben? Come beggin' on my knees ta come back?" Fuzz shakes his head slowly, as if answering that for you. It's not a harsh tone, just a realistic one. "I'm gonna fergit, Ben, don't you worry. S'what I'm best at. I jus' wanna give /you/ the chance, don' you see? Cuz the way you look now, you look like y'need some help. I ain' askin' fer forgiveness cuz I know it ain' comin. An I know it ain' asked fer on yer end." He pushes to stand up, brushing his hands on his shirt. "Jus' imagine when ya see me 'n Trace on the street, though. Wouldn' it be nice if it didn' ruin alla our days?"

True. Civility at least would be nice. The ability to pass each other without haughty silence or anxiety. The desire is there, backlighting the familiar dark eyes. "If it weren't for Holly, Jason... then I think I could." Convenient excuse, the fragility of his lover? Or just another example of his unending devotion? "Now, with what happened to him, I honestly don't know how to make even a little repair. I really... I just don't know." Shoulders sag a little bit, some of his enduring strength giving out. If only he didn't have to think about things, or deal with them, and just lead a quiet life untouched by the world... now -that- would be a real utopia.

Holly. If it weren't for Holly... Jason makes another sigh and another shake of the head. "So if he wants ta carry the burden of ill will, then yer gonna hafta too?" A faint smile up to you, a hint of the old fondness. He sees in you the urge for peace, and that's all he wants now. Trust woulda been nice again, but that really can only come with forgiveness though - a thing that's not coming. "May come as a surprise, Ben, but yer yer own person sometimes." Kinda a sad note to his voice there. Maybe he realizes something about what happened? Maybe not. But then it's back to his just calm, quiet voice. "I ain' carryin' the burden no more, Ben, that's all I came ta say. S'up to you if you still wanna, seems."

It's so difficult for Ben not to immediately bristle at the implication. You don't understand. Nobody understands and doesn't seem inclined to listen when he tries to explain. But to freeze up and turn away now would erase all hopes of every making this better. He knows very well that if anyone's going to make a step in the right direction, it has to be he himself. So it's a deep, slow breath and a brief close of his eyes before he continues. Calm. "Not because of what he thinks. Because of what he did to himself. Did you know he tried to kill himself after you broke in? He couldn't take the guilt." So, yes. There was guilt involved. They don't blame you completely. Somewhere there's blame that falls on the two of them, as it does on everyone. At least they recognize that? "It's difficult not to blame that on someone, Jason. We're trying. I'm trying. Holly's on medication and we're in therapy because we can't do it alone." Finally he looks away, smacked in the face by his own admission. Guilt. Flowing and tumbling out of him because he knows the whole thing is ultimately his fault. "We just need some time."

Quiet. Silence. Lack of movement. Jason just takes your words in, absorbs them, wishes they didn't make so much sense. Wishes they didn't give him more reasons to want this over with, even though that's why he came here. "I'm sorry, Ben," he says, very softly. Guilt. Walker had guilt. /You/ have guilt. Jason thought that he could come in, say his piece, have you agree, and then it'd be done. But no. Green eyes find you again, no other words coming yet. First your words, now your guilt he takes in. All of a sudden there's so many things he wants to ask, most of them beginning with 'why?' But he knows now is too soon. Eternity may be too soon, but now definitely is. "We just hurt so much," he suddenly says, beyond his own volition. "Didn' know where the line was 'til it was so far behind..." Back to the ground again with that gaze as he clears his throat of what suspiciously sounds like emotion. And you know what the funny thing is? he tries to say. He blames you the least. That's why he's here.

When Ben was the most at fault, because he did wrong with the least reason. Or at least, for the wrong reasons. It's a private guilt that he's not allowed to show to Holly and hasn't even tried to explain to anyone. Perhaps that's why he still holds it so deep inside. "I'm sorry, too," manages to come out. "None of us thought before we acted. Not you or me or Batiste or anybody. We just felt, and things happened. And now we have to live with those things." And thank god we're all still around to live with them. He's quiet now, after that. Maybe 'I'm sorry' was all he had to say, and all he had to hear.

Oh god, stop this. You're making Jason... realize really why he's here. In thrashing about in his own pain, he committed betrayals as deep as the one committed against him. Somewhere, in a deep part of his heart, he knew this and that's what brought him here. But now, now that knowledge is creeping up. Sure, theoretically only good could come with the realization, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like fucking hell here. His why's... they haven't been answered, but in one simple revelation, you seem to have made them irrelevant. Nobody thought and that's all that really matters. And now it's over. And we have to live with it. 'I'm sorry' was more than Jason ever expected to hear, though. And he NEVER planned to say it. But there it is. What else could be said? What else needs to right now? "G'bye, Ben," Jason whispers, keeping his eyes carefully averted.

"Take care of yourself." Good that you can't see the sadness threatening in Ben's eyes. Take care of yourself, because I can't. And Trace. Make sure he reads. And you read too. And a thousand other words of advice to make sure you grow up like he meant you to do. But, it's over. And the confrontation is over now, too. Ben steps back and turns back to his vines. If you look quick, you might see him wiping his cheeks on his shoulders. In a minute it'll occur to him that it's not light enough anymore.

No, it's a good thing you're distracted with your own tears. You won't be able to see Jason wiping quickly at his own cheeks as he turns and walks off down the street. Take care... Survival's always been Jason's strong point. It's the thriving he's always had trouble with. Maybe someday he'll be able to come back and see if your vines did any better.

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