Chapter Text
It starts off as something almost entirely innocent.
It’s 5am, and Ben can’t sleep, so he texts Sammy and they meet in The Usual Spot twenty minutes later.
Summer has barely begun, and it’s their last real one, before they leave this place and possibly never return, so they want to make the absolute most of it. Even if it’s 5am, and Betty would have both of their heads on matching pikes if she knew.
The morning air is chilly, and Sammy’s a little too-cold as he’s opted for shorts in preparation for the eventual awakening of the sun. Ben’s wearing his favourite red hoodie, because after 17 years in this place, he still hasn’t learned how to pre-judge the weather.
There’s a giant tree at the back of The Usual Spot, and Ben clambers up without a word, stopping only to peek down at Sammy from half-way up. Sammy rolls his eyes, understanding the invitation, as he does most of the unspoken things between them.
There are too many unspoken things, if Sammy’s being honest (he always tries to be, it usually doesn’t work.)
It’s a struggle, but five minutes later, they’re watching the sun rise off in the distance, when Ben breaks the silence for the first time that morning.
“I had that dream again,” he mutters, barely audible. If Sammy hadn’t been anticipating those exact words, he might’ve missed them.
As it is, he doesn’t reply, just reaches on a hand and places it on his friend’s ankle in silent solidarity.
It’s peaceful, for the most part. Usually is when it’s only the two of them.
They understand more than they probably should.
Twenty more minutes pass, then forty. They barely move, let alone speak. The shine is shining brightly now, slowly heating up the world around them. A dog barks somewhere in the distance, but still, they sit.
Ben is clearly becoming uncomfortable in his thick hoodie, but apart from some slight squirming, he’s rather still.
Ben is a lot, most of the time. He’s loud, and always laughing, his face the personification of a thousand-worded picture. But in these moments, it all melts a way.
Ben is a lot, but most of all, he is afraid.
Sammy understands that all too well.
It’s nearing midday when they retreat from their perch. Ben’s stomach growling had been the only thing pushing them to leave. Sammy supposes that other people probably would’ve been bored of doing absolutely nothing for hours upon hours, but he’s grateful for the time to think.
His life is so full of thinking - about math problems, and about his grandmother, and about the parents who never cared enough to stay. He thinks about the direction his future is hopefully going to take (and all the ones he wishes it wouldn’t, but likely will.) He thinks about his weekend job at Rose’s, and wonders if she’ll shout them a late breakfast if he works back a few hours.
He smiles at the thought of Rose denying Sammy anything. Unthinkable.
The quiet hours with Ben are for different thoughts, but he’ll allow himself the usual ones for now.
Ben notices the grin on his face, and pointedly moves his face so that they match.
His life is full of thinking, too. About girls, and medication and ways to pretend he’s alright and about how much more he can take of forcing himself to be something he’s not. This usually isn’t the case when he’s with Sammy, but soon, he won’t just be.
A few miles later, they’re humming a stupid jingle about Pomchi’s that Ben had heard on the radio, and Ben is literally bouncing with joy.
The air is heavy with laughter, and summer and happiness.
This will be destroyed in mere moments, but first, let’s travel back an hour to the other side of town, where Jack and Lily are standing in their parents kitchen, thick in the heat of an argument.
“It’s always same with you,” Jack is yelling, waving his arms around as though to emphasise his point, “You’re 17 Lily, we both are. You don’t need weed, you don’t need alcohol, and you don’t need those idiots you call ‘friends’ either.”
Lily, ever the dramatic one, matches his exaggerated actions, although her voice is notably more aggressive. “Maybe you would feel differently if you had friends, Wright.”
“Don’t call me Wr-“
“I’ll call you whatever I damned well want,” she snaps back, “even if I should be calling you Wrong!”
“That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever- “
“Takes one to fucking know one!”
“Swearing doesn’t make you tough Lily.”
“Being on the Wendigo’s doesn’t make you interesting Jack”
This argument goes on for quite a while longer. It carries on to the bathroom, where Jack angrily brushes his teeth and Lily attempts to shove her hair into something resembling a pony tail. It carries on through the walls of their neighbouring bedrooms as they shove on outside clothes and grab their backpacks. It carries back through the kitchen as they both shove varying pieces of fruit into their backpacks and mouths, and it carries down the street and into the woods, where it promptly interrupts one singing Ben Arnold, and his best friend Sammy Stevens.
None of them are quite sure what happens next.
One minute, Ben is twirling for Sammy’s amusement, pancake puppies and maple syrup heavy on his mind. The next, Sammy is on the floor, in the worst pain of his entire life.
His eyes are so heavy with tears, ears ringing with a combination of pain and screaming (his own and all three observers) that he can’t interpret any of what’s going on around him in a way that makes sense.
Lily will swear that it was all Jack’s fault, either for being a dumb jock, or a dumb boy, and Jack will swear that it was all Lily’s fault for having such a big dumb head and subsequently blocking his view and altering his sense of judgement.
Ben blames himself, completely, but Sammy knows there’s nobody to blame but himself. Himself and his big dumb hero complex, and need to protect Ben at all costs.
He doesn’t hear the ambulance sirens or see the panicked expression on Ben’s face. He doesn’t see the awkward angle his arm is bent in, and he doesn’t see the look of absolute horror mirrored on Jack and Lily’s face as they realise what they’ve done.
He doesn’t even register that they were present at all. It’s only hours later, as Ben is excitedly regaling the tale to Betty in a room at King Falls hospital that Sammy hears the name ‘Jack Wright’ and thinks only one thing.
Fuck.