|| {𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝑩𝒖𝒔 𝑮𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒅} || • {𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒖𝒎𝒂} •

𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟐 | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟮𝟳 (𝟳𝟱)

As I walked toward the room where Ben was waiting, a surge of apprehension coursed through me. It had been a while since I last saw him, and during that time, I'd made a significant change to my appearance—my hair was now cut short, a stark contrast to the longer style he would have remembered. I wondered, with a twinge of anxiety, whether this change would affect his recognition of me.

When I reached the door and knocked softly, I could feel my heartbeat quickening. I took a deep breath before opening it, pushing the door open with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. The sight that met me was both familiar and unfamiliar: Ben, sitting quietly in the stark, dimly lit room, his gaze fixed on the floor.

I stepped inside, trying to mask my nerves with a calm demeanor, as Maverick gave me a look 'don't mess that up' and left the room. 

"Hey, Ben," I said gently, making my way toward the chair across from him. I offered a warm, reassuring smile, hoping that my presence—and perhaps a trace of my old self—would bridge the gap created by my changed appearance.

"Ben," I said softly, my voice trembling as I took a step forward. "It's me."

For a moment, there was nothing. The room was silent, the air thick with the weight of unspoken words. And then, slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, Ben's eyes met mine. The recognition was there, buried beneath the layers of pain and trauma, and with it came a flood of emotions that I could see play out across his face.

I took another step closer, my heart aching at the sight of him, at the way he seemed so small, so broken, despite the strength I knew was still inside him. 

"Ben," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here."

He blinked, as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing, and I could see the battle waging inside him—the anger, the fear, the hope that he didn't dare to believe in. 

But he didn't say a word. And honestly I would be suprised if he did. The silence that had taken hold of him was still there, a barrier that kept him locked inside his own mind

The last time I saw him, like really saw him, was when i told him I liked him. 

I took another step, closing the distance between us, until I was standing right in front of him. I reached out, my hand trembling as I placed it on his shoulder, feeling the tension that was coiled so tightly in his muscles. 

"Ben, I'm sorry," I said, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'm sorry for everything. For not being there. For letting you think I was gone."

His eyes bore into mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—anger, maybe, or pain, or maybe just the exhaustion of carrying so much for so long. But still, he didn't speak.

"It's okay if you're angry," I continued, my hand still resting on his shoulder, trying to offer some small measure of comfort as I tried so much just not to cry. "You have every right to be. But I need you to know that I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive. I could feel Maverick's eyes on me, waiting, watching to see if I could break through to him. But I wasn't thinking about Maverick, or the 'mission', or any of the other reasons I had been brought here. I was thinking about Ben, about the person he was, the person I knew was still inside him somewhere.

"I'm not going to pretend that I know what you've been through," I said, my voice soft but steady. "But I do know that you're stronger than you think. And I'm not just talking about physically. You've always been the one who kept us going, who pushed us forward when we wanted to give up."