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The bedside clock glowed in his face mocking him. 7:36 it read. Not even an hour since he got home and fallen asleep. The pounding on the door that woke him up started again, and he groaned. Dragging a hand down his face, he rolled out of bed muttering an apology to the small cat dislodged from his chest in the process.
The knocking came again, insistent, almost panicked, “I’m coming! I’m coming! Jack-in-the-box Jesus...” he shuffled his way to his front door, running a hand through his hair. Who in the hell was knocking at his door this early in the morning, the entire town knew he had just gotten off from broadcast; he had to sleep sometimes. Grumbling he swung open the door, “This better be damn imp-”
The words died on his lips.
---
Ben stood in front of Sammy’s door. In truth he didn't know why he was here and he didn't even remember turning down the road to the apartment complex at the edge of town, but here he was. Unable to drag himself away from that spot on the doormat that read “wipe your paws.” He thinks, any other day he would make fun of Sammy for it, but right now …
---
Right now, Ben was standing on his doormat with his shoulder bunched up to his ears; slouched into himself he stood there playing with the cuff of his hoodie absentmindedly. His eyes were impossibly wide, bloodshot, and never finding focus. They continued sliding off of him as if Sammy wasn’t there at all, and his hair stood up on end as if he hadn't stopped running his hands through it.
He hadn't seen Ben in a few days, having taken off work after his own insistence, but now he immediately regretted ever letting him out of his sight. He thought Ben would look better, not worse. Not like this. Not like Ben had been dragged through hell and back. Any qualms about being woken up were immediately forgiven at the sight in front of him.
All sleepiness left in his voice was gone, “Ben is everything okay?”
His response was a jerk of his head, a puppet on a string reaction, and that got Sammy moving. Reaching out, he pulled Ben inside, shutting the door behind them. Taking Ben gently by the wrist he guided him to the couch, urging him to sit down. He moved about his kitchen making tea needing something to do as he formulated a plan. Sneaking glances over his shoulder as he worked, he assured himself that that Ben was still there. And, while he was, every time, every time he also he hadn’t moved. Just eerily staring at the wall across from him, and he hated it.
Ben was a radio personality, he was meant to be full of life. He was meant to talk so animatedly that his voice told you half the story. He was meant to gesture wildly as he did so, nearly knocking over mugs and sound equipment. He was meant to be so full of emotion you couldn’t help but feel yourself laugh along even if you didn't understand the joke. Instead, he sat there, sitting motionless on the worn couch, accepting with easy reluctance, whatever the fates had planned for him. It made something swell in Sammy’s chest, so he returned, pushing the tea into his hands.
“Sammy, I- I’m sorry I didn't - I know you just got off. I'm sorry I should have- I'll go. I'll go nevermind this is-” Ben rambled as soon as Sammy sat down, tapping his finger anxiously around the rim of the mug.
“Ben,” gently, like how he spoke to George when he found her in the alleyway behind the apartments.
Somehow, he was not strong enough to actually face his friend, unable to actually bare the look in Ben’s eyes. The sound of movement made him look, though, and when he saw the hurt that sat there, something broke inside of Sammy with sudden deftness. He knew instantly that he would level this entire town if it meant giving him his Ben back.
“What's up?” in lou leveling an entire town, he reached out his hand. Settling it firmly on Ben’s thigh, keeping him in pinned place on the couch.
---
Something in Ben cracked then. Hot angry tears spilled from his eyes before he could stop them as he wiped furiously at his face to try and stop it. But it was too late.
---
Ben was crying. Ben was crying, and the world around Sammy was crumpling before he could do anything to fix it. “Sammy, I-” he was hiccuping now, all attempts at stopping thrown straight out the window.
Sammy closed the short distance between them in an instant and wrapped him up in his arms trying to block the world from hurting him any more than it already did. “It's okay. It's okay. I got you. I got you it's okay,” whispered softly and adamantly as he soothed down his hair.
Through hiccuping sobs Ben was rambling because of course he was. Ben couldn't stop talking, and this Ben, even crying, was closer to the Ben Sammy knew that it was fixing whatever had broken inside of him earlier. “Sammy I don't- I don't know what to-what to do. I can't find her. I can't find her Sammy. She was relying on me and-she was relying on me and I can't find her I don't-”
Everything clicked then, and just like that, it was breaking all over again; taking the last of Sammy’s strength with it.
---
Ben had spent his break from work relentlessly trying to find Emily. His journal sat in front of him with nothing new written in his messy scrawl. No ideas on where to go from here. It had been months with nothing new. The wall above his desk was a mess of pictures, maps, push pins, newspaper clippings, and string. Said desk was covered in empty take-out containers, microwave dinners, and countless dirty and empty coffee mugs. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept.
---
Sammy’s laptop sat open with numerous tabs, windows, and documents pulled up. A large stack of library books next to it. He had been trying to solve the mystery that was King Falls and Emily's subsequent disappearance, with nothing for his efforts.
---
The tea sat untouched on the coffee table, cooling. It stood as the only marker for the passage of time. “Sammy I miss her so much… I have to find her.”
“I know, man. I know,” he ran his fingers through dark hair, pulling him tighter, wrapping him closer with long limbs thinking that if he could just… envelope him completely the world wouldn't be able to get to him. He breathed out through his nose, softly and shakily, gulping down the bubble in his throat, “We'll find her. We’ll find her, and bring her home.”
---
The thing is, when Sammy said that, Ben believed him.
---
Ben burst into tears, violent and shaking, and Sammy’s only solution was pulling him impossibly closer, and rocking with him. His hands soothing anyplace they were holding. Tracing mindless shapes with his fingertips, rubbing small circles at the base of his spine, ghosting nails up and down his back. They were in a constant movement of calming gestures, wrapped up in each other because Sammy couldn't bare anything else. Couldn’t bare the sight of Ben crying, of Ben so hopeless. Couldn't bare the crack in his voice when he spoke, or the look in his eyes. How the blame was settling into his frame like this. How it was surrounding his lanky limbs and making a home there. Blame, nor sadness, was very becoming on Ben. And Sammy… Sammy pressed his forehead to Ben’s temple willing him to believe that this wasn't a burden he had to shoulder alone. That they would find her together.
It was then that small furry black smudge tried to wedge itself between them, loud and persistent.
“George you can't-” Sammy tried to nudge her away, but she pressed on determined to find affection, and comfort here.
---
And then he laughed. A mere, huff of breath more snot and congestion then actual laugh, but it was something. It was something.
---
Ben wiped at his eyes, his mouth pulling up at the corner. He reached out a tentative hand, which George bypassed altogether in favor of laying down heavily in his lap. Only to purr, loud and unrelenting as she nosed at the hand still hanging in the air between them.
And just like that, the tension in the air had snapped. Smoothed out and calmed. Ben hiccuped through the last of his tears and sniffled away the rest, as he scratched at her chin. His eyes were still glossy, his frame still tired and impossibly small, but the sadness in his eyes was replaced with something closer to what he saw in the recording booth.
Sammy asked suddenly, “When was the last time you slept?”
He flinched and shrugged, shrinking away into his hoodie.
---
They were no longer tangled up in each other, but Ben’s knee was pressed into his thigh, a single point of grounding contact. The only thing keeping him from floating too far away for Sammy to grab.
---
“You should rest. Sleep here.” Easy and simple and no fuss about, a statement, a fact. He moved to get up, but Ben grabbed at the hem of his shirt before he could go much further.
“Don't-” when Sammy looked down at him Ben was panicked. “Please- please don't go.”
He let out another shaky breath hesitating before nodding, and setting back down. “Okay.” Sammy pulled his legs up onto the couch, and wedged them behind Ben; gesturing for him to follow suit.
---
Ben was startled, not expecting an agreement. It seemed like Sammy and him were dancing around each other for months now, but nothing ever this… concrete. This sure. He was hesitating, he knew this. He also knew he was staring at Sammy like he had hung the very stars in the sky; starstruck in the others sureness.
George (he would get on Sammy about the name later too) hopped out his lap, annoyed that he had stopped petting her. She climbed up the arm of the couch and onto the back of it. Laying down in a dent she fit perfectly in; he could only assume she slept there a lot. She looked straight at him as she settled down, urging him to following suit.
---
Sammy was surprised at how perfectly Ben fit here like this. How well the two of them fit together. Another thought for another time, he chided himself. He grabbed the thick soft wool blanket from off the back of the couch and threw it over them. He adjusted the throw pillow below his head, and let Ben lay on his arm. Ben pulled the arm threw over him to him and held it. Sammy curled around him protectively. He was doing a lot of that tonight, and he realized with a jolt that he would do this over and over again without hesitation.
“We'll find her, Ben,” he said softly into his hair when he felt his breathing relax against him. Certain he was asleep, he pressed a gentle kiss to where he just spoke.
---
Ben was not asleep, and he pushed against the older man’s chest. Not wanting to lose him and needing the assurance that he still had one person he cared about safe. Safe with him and holding him and making him feel less alone. Less lost and more grounded. A constant ever steady force against the chaos that kept happening in their lives.
He felt Sammy’s breathing even out and the arm draped over him relax. He pulled it closer. Nuzzled into the arm his was laying on and pressed a kiss there. “Thank you,” whispered into the air the rest of the world was just waking up to and he was just falling asleep to.