Shades Of Blue

55. Comfort

Benjie

December

Age 20

Vlad gently ran the tips of his fingers over Benjie's skin, exploring the bruises and scars that Benjie was collecting. His fingers drifted down his neck, resting near his collarbone as he touched Benjie's throat, gently tracing his tracheostomy scar. Benjie was ashamed of it, usually keeping it hidden. Vlad then took one of Benjie's hands to inspect his clear knuckles. When he found no cuts or bruises, he took Benjie's right hand, only finding an old, jagged scar down his knuckles from when Benjie had tried to beat the hell out of a tree. Worry rested in Vlad's eyes as he began to place kisses on each bruise and scar on Benjie's face.

Out of the silence, Vlad finally spoke. "So, you're an artist."

Benjie shook his head. "No. I just liked to draw when I was younger. I haven't really tried since the accident."

But it wasn't an accident. It was attempted murder. Mr. Archer had told the police he found his son in the foyer with his brains leaking out onto the floor. There were suspicions that Mr. Archer had been the assailant, but they allegedly couldn't find enough evidence. Money can buy a lot of things, even silence or justice.

It was all a wash in the end. Benjie had survived to spend almost two years in a coma while Mr. Archer suffered kidney failure after a life of alcoholism and died. There had been some talk of antifreeze found in his system, leading Mrs. Archer to believe he had taken his own life out of loneliness and remorse. Benjie had missed the funeral, still in his coma, but he visited the grave a few times. After all of the beatings and emotional terror, Benjie was growing to feel sorry for the cruel old man. What happened to Mr. Archer to aggravate him so? How was he capable of hating or fearing something so much that he was willing to kill his son? 

He knew he should hate his father, but Benjie couldn't shake that saying, "hurt people hurt people." Someone had hurt Mr. Archer. It wasn't an excuse, but then that wasn't how Benjie looked at it. He wasn't trying to find a way to forgive his dad. He was trying to figure out his motives. Had Benjie been such a terrible person? Had he deserved everything his father had ever dished out?

When Benjie was around six or seven, he had gone on a camping trip with Mr. Archer, just the two of them. One night, while they were sitting by the fire before bed, Mr. Archer asked Benjie, "what would you say is your biggest fear?"

Benjie had thought for a while about it. "Spiders. They have too many legs."

His dad had let out a hearty laugh. "You're a funny kid, you know that?"

He had nodded his head confidently.

"Hey," his dad had warned. "Don't get cocky. You take a compliment, but you take it at face value. You never know when someone'll come along, butter you up, and take you for all you're worth. Don't let anyone take advantage of you, kiddo. Not a damn soul."

"Okay," Benjie had vowed, too young to grasp the full scope of his father's teachings. After gazing into the campfire for a while, Benjie had wondered, "what are you afraid of?"

He had taken a swig from his flask then let out a chuckle. "Honestly? Being alone. I know your mom and I fight sometimes, but I love her, you, and your sister so much, Benny. My biggest fear is that I lose you guys."

"Silly," Benjie had replied with a giggle. "You'll never lose me, you're my dad."

Vlad's voice brought Benjie back from his thought spiral. "Why haven't you tried drawing since it happened?" he wondered. "Since the accident?"

"It's not the same," Benjie explained. "There's this disconnect. I can't get what's in my head onto the page anymore."

"That makes sense," Vlad told him. "You're mind is different now. Have you tried taking any classes?"

"Not since high school," Benjie admitted. "I was good...It sucks to go back to basics."

Vlad grinned and tucked Benjie's hair behind his ear. "Being an adult sucks," he enlightened him. "But if you want to get anything out of life, you need to put effort into it. Go back to basics if you need to. Is being an artist what you want?"

"I dunno," Benjie admitted. "I've never thought of it as art. They're just drawings."

"I'd like to see them."

This news perked Benjie right up as he nuzzled closer to Vlad's naked body. "Maybe I'll show you, then."

Vlad wrapped his arms around Benjie, holding him close protectively.

Benjie never wanted to leave this embrace. Too comfortable, he fell asleep in Vlad's arms. It was a soothing sensation, like sleeping in a parent's arms as they carefully carried you from the car to your bed after a long drive.