Demons (A Mumford and Sons fanfic)

Chapter IX

Chapter IX

“You want to talk about it?” Ted asks gently. He sits on the couch at Ben’s feet, looking for some sort of reaction to his question.

        Ben turns his head and gives Ted a solemn look.

        “I’m a bloody hypocrite, aren’t I?” Ben says miserably.

        Ted blinks, unsure where this is coming from. “What would make you think that, mate?”

        “I hide things from Marcus so he won’t worry. But he worries anyway, and then when I ask him if he’s okay, he lies and says he’s fine, and I get mad with him for lying.”

        Ted takes a moment to fully understand what Ben has set in front of him. In reality, what Ben has explained is pretty much the definition of hypocrisy, but Ted isn’t going to tell him so. That would just make it worse.

        “Ben we all know you don’t like to concern us. And well I suppose that we’ll still worry anyway, no matter what it is that you may or may not tell us.”

        “I just want him to be okay,” Ben says unhappily.

“That’s understandable,” Ted replies. He feels like some kind of therapist- one that probably gives out awful advice. The absolute last thing he wants to do is give Ben bad advice that could end up ruining his relationship with Marcus. He’d never forgive himself if that happened. “Well Benji, if I were you I would just be honest with him. Just tell him what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t know how,” Ben mumbles, hiding his face once more in the cushions.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something eventually,” Ted says, patting Ben on the shoulder reassuringly.

Ted can hear the water turn off in the other room, and Ben must be able to as well, because he scrambles to get up.

“I’m going to go take another walk by myself... I need to think,” Ben says quickly. He is quick

to leave the room and head for the stairs.

“You call me if you need anything, okay?” Ted yells after him.

“Yeah, I will!” Ben shouts back, though in his mind he won’t call Ted unless he absolutely needs him. Which he won’t.

In hindsight, Ben realizes how stupid it was to assume he wouldn’t have to call.

*(*)*

Maybe five minutes after Ben’s hasty retreat Marcus finally emerges from his room, his hair still damp and sticking up in every direction.

Ted is sitting in the kitchen, once more fiddling with all of his cameras.

“Where’d Ben get off to?” Marcus asks, retrieving a beer from the fridge.

“Walking,” Ted replies simply. He’s busy trying to concentrate on getting out the tiny screws of one of his older cameras that had film jammed in it. One of the screws pops loose and he has to hurry to find it before it rolls onto the floor.

“We just came back from walking,” Marcus says, somewhat confused. “Is he all right?”

“No,” Ted answers truthfully.

“And you just let him go?”

“Yes. He needed to think.” Ted sets the tiny screw with the others in the cap of a water bottle so he doesn’t lose it.

“You shouldn’t have let him go off on his own like that.”

Ted refrains from slamming his camera down on the counter, knowing that it would only make things worse.  He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly so angry with Marcus, but he is.