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Every time Ben saw Callum he couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve him. He was too caring, to nieve, too good, too much of a hero. He was the sort of guy that shouldn't exist, that didn't exist in the circles that he existed in. He'd rescued Bobby, he'd been in the army for christ's sake. He should be in the movies not here in Walford with all the other dregs of society. The sort of bloke he belonged with was some sensitive arty type, or a lawyer or something, basically anyone but him. He could probably walk right into the Prince Albert and be crawling with better boyfriend candidates within seconds. He was handsome and charming as hell. He'd have the pick of the whole place, he could choose anyone he wanted, for whatever he wanted. A fling. A date. A longer-term thing. But he didn't, he chose Ben. He chose the fuck-up, he chose the criminal and the worst possible candidate for a safe and happy first relationship.
He was thick as well then, or hopelessly optimistic.
So why the fuck had Ben thought that it would work out between them? Even for a single goddamned second? How did Callum make him believe in their future?
Ben downed another drink, his fourth, or maybe fifth of the night and felt the brandy burn his throat. (It wouldn't be missed he thought bitterly, it'd only been used to light the Christmas pudding) Maybe it was because Callum tried so hard to keep everyone around him happy, doing everything he possibly could to keep the peace. Only Callum Highway could maintain a positive relationship with a woman he jilted at the altar after figuring out he liked blokes, and only Callum Highway could see the good in Ben Mitchell, that was the bravest thing in the world.
Even his dad cast him aside seeing the evil rotten heart inside him, but then that was the only time he would want him when he put his true nature to good use. He'd only crack a smile when he'd done something diabolical, only congratulate him when he'd managed to knick another car ready to sell-off.
If only he could see him now, drowning his sorrows, he'd probably give him a prize. He could just see the No.1 Son certificate taking pride of place on the mantlepiece. He was even more efficient now, saved from domestication by his fucked up family duties.
"Daddy" a faintly disappointed voice in the dark. Ben looked up from the table, not even attempting to hide the bottle. His head was swimming too much all ready, he just looked at his daughter with glassy eyes. She was all blurry, her outline fuzzy, and in an instant, he felt sick. Brandy burned again as it rose within him.
"Lex?" He guessed, his tongue thick with intoxication.
She moved quietly, seeming to glide across the room "What's wrong?"
A lump formed in Ben's throat, she was a kid, but she was Lola's, so she wasn't thick. She sounded older now, the most like her mum he'd ever heard.
"Nothin'" he lied artlessly "Why ain't you in bed?"
She shrugged and dragged out the chair next to him. He could only watch her as she plopped herself down.
"Couldn't sleep" she said. Then the silence came, the alcohol sitting between them like a third wheel. Ben grabbed the bottle and shoved it onto the floor before staring at the half-empty glass with remorse. His throat still hurt. But not with the bile this time.
"Why aren't you in bed?" Lexi finally echoed his question. She pierced the quiet. Again she sounded like Lola and it cut straight through him.
His eyes began to itch, and he grimaced as a new spike of regret tore through him. He fought silently for a while, forcing everything down deep, he unconsciously curled a hand around the table, knuckles turned white. He took one huge breath in, then let it out in what he hoped sounded like a yawn. He couldn't help but drop his head.
Because it's not the same without him. He longed to say Because it's cold, it's empty. Because I just got used to having someone who loved me again, then I messed up, and I let him go. I made him leave, I tore us apart. It wasn't like with Paul when he got taken from me without warning, it was my own stupid fault. I ended it.
"I can't sleep neither" He said, his voice weird and wavy. Then he did something that he never expected, a single tear escaped down his cheek. He wiped it away, hoping she hadn't seen.
"Is it because of Callum?" She asked as if she'd read his mind. That was it. His already wounded chest punctured by his name, it'd been a few days but it felt like an eternity. Another tear escaped, and another, but there was nothing he could do to stop them now. He couldn't stop the noises either, the low moan which escaped from his lips, which before he knew it turned into a scream.
"Ben?" Lola appeared in the doorway, summoned by the sound.
"Lex, what's wrong?" She asked when he didn't answer and continued to sob.
Lexi looked up a little hopelessly, putting her arm around her dad's shoulder. "I think it's something about Callum" she explained.
"Ben? Is it Cal? What happened?" Lola approached tentatively, tiptoeing around a sleeping lion, but when she saw he wasn't going to react she sat in the chair on the other side of him. "Ben? Ben? Tell me and I can help you, y'know I will." She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and looked at her daughter with some concern. She wanted to tell but knew she wouldn't relax till her Dad had calmed down. That might not be for hours.
Lexi was the first to go in for a hug, tucking herself into Ben's armpit and squeezing tight. Where he would usually have flinched away and told them both to leave him alone, he was wracked with tears. Folded in on himself he was reduced to a child, a weak, formless blob of a man yet he couldn't help feeling grateful for this.
"You can tell us when you're ready," Lola said "we're here for ya, always mate" and she embraced him too. Their family was for once, idyllic, peaceful. Save for the man with the broken heart.