The Art of Broken Pieces

0.75 Porgs

Ari," Rey could barely get the words out around the swelling sob. She staggered forward. "Wait, Ari—no..."

Ben stared after Ari'li, the girl's words still ringing in his ears. Reaching out he caught Rey's wrist and stopped her as she tried to follow, shaking his head. He had recognized the look in the girl's face, it was all too familiar. Rey pulled against his grip, glaring up at him accusingly with tears in her eyes.

"Stop." He said firmly, refusing to let her go. "Give her space. She needs time to be angry, and it's not like she can go far." He glared through the door through which the girl had fled, emotions warring chaotically inside. What more did they expect from him? Had they honestly thought Rey and he were going to sweep them away, some strange and broken space family? They had lived enough life to know better, to know reality from fantasy. He had never led them on, or made promises he didn't intend to keep. Frustrated anger boiled in his chest, annoyed with Rey for being too kind them, annoyed with himself for letting them get too comfortable, for even bothering to risk himself for their stupid little lives.

He choked back that bitterness, knowing that no matter how much he wanted to deny it, he would have gone through that storm anyway. He would never admit it to her, but Rey's influence had already changed more in him than he was entirely comfortable with. Slowly he let her go, scrubbing a tired hand through his hair.

"What more can I do?" he asked her, frustration in his voice. "I'm not their dammed hero. I never claimed to be."

Rey swallowed, tears flickering down her cheeks as memories swirled up inside her. "They don't need a hero," she said. "They just need someone to care."

She wanted to step into his arms. Oddly, the feeling was not dissimilar to the way she expected Ari'li felt—that desperation to connect, to be comforted, to be cared for. The want of it rooted Rey to the spot. Indecision warred in her. On the one hand, cold practicality—sharp, unvarnished truth. They were not going to be a family to these children. Even Ari'li, who had worked her way steadily deeper into Rey's heart, needed something she couldn't give, not as she was now. She wanted to hate Ben for pointing it out.

On the other hand, Ben was acting on experience. They both were. They both knew what it was like to feel abandoned and betrayed, and even if their reactions had been different, that sameness between them had always been one bridge that never needed to be built. It was there naturally. He was older—how many years, she didn't know. Five, seven, ten—it didn't really matter. He'd sat with that anger long enough to let it go bitter.

She stepped in, stepped right up against him and pressed her face into his chest. The fabric of his shirt wicked up her tears, and her breath caught warm in the fibers as she spoke, muffled, into his sternum. "I can't just leave her with it. She'll turn out like you." She pushed a thread of comfort toward him, a slight tingle of mirth to let him know she meant it to be funny, if not entirely true.

Ben glared down at the top of her head, and one arm wrapped around her automatically. It was instinct, to always try and bring her closer. Strange, that after all the time he had spent reaching out desperate for her to take his hand as she seemed to slip further and further away, it was now so easy to be together.

"She won't." He said moodily, tilting his head down until his nose was in her hair. "Neither of us have tried to kill her yet." His humor was dark, but it surprised him that he could speak about it at all now. Something had changed while he had stopped paying attention, since he was no longer alone with his own darkness.

With a sigh he pushed away from the counter and stabilized her, moving her gently away from him. "I'll talk to her." It was the last thing he wanted to do. "But I'll probably make it worse." Without thinking he lifted his hands to cup her face, lifting it towards him as his thumbs brushed away the tears on her cheeks. For a moment they were frozen in place before Ben maneuvered awkwardly away. His heart was racing faster than was comfortable, most likely still dealing with the aftereffects of the drugs he had taken.