Chapter Text
Ben crept down the hall to his sisters’ bathroom. The clock on the counter read 6:30 a.m. Ben had purposefully set his alarm to be a half hour before his parents woke up- a half hour before he was supposed to be waking up himself to get ready for school.
He had been counting on Claire leaving all of her makeup out on the counter, and he had not been disappointed. His sisters had dressed him up enough times when they were younger that he had a pretty good idea of what to do. He was quickly able to turn his cheeks and nose a convincing shade of red (he was not sure he had grabbed the right makeup, but he wasn’t paying much attention to that at the moment). For good measure, he found some light green powder and applied it generously to his under eyes.
He thought he looked convincing enough by the time he was done.
Before he went back to his room, he grabbed a washcloth out of the linen shelf and ran hot water over it before wringing it out. Then he crept back down the hallway to his room- hot washcloth in hand- and laid in bed to wait.
He listened as the rest of the house slowly woke up. He could hear Claire’s alarm through the wall, and his dad’s heavy footsteps as he went down the stairs. Eventually, he could hear Emma rousing Ellie- who could never seem to get herself out of bed in the mornings.
It didn’t take very long for his mom to start calling up the stairs for him, thinking he had overslept. He stayed very still in bed, holding the washcloth to his forehead to fake a temperature, crossing his fingers that this would work.
He couldn’t go to school today. Even just the thought made his stomach twist.
Eventually, Emma made her way up the stairs to knock on her son’s door. Usually, Ben was the first of her children to be out of bed and eating breakfast. But today, it was almost time to get on the bus and there were still no signs of him.
“Ben,” She whispered, poking her head in. “The bus is going to be here soon, buddy. It’s time to wake up.”
Ben held his breath. It was go time. He sat up slowly and gave a weak cough. “I don’t feel good,” he whispered, acting as if his throat was so scratchy he could hardly speak. Emma opened his bedroom door all the way and walked over to him. She reached for him in the dim light, placing a hand on his forehead.
“Hmm. you do feel a little warm,” She said. Ben silently celebrated the washcloth trick- Henry had taught it to him. Ben hadn’t tried it before and hadn’t been sure if it was going to work. To keep the triumphant smile off his face, Ben gave a shaky nod and explained that his stomach hurt.
“I think I need to stay home from school,” he said, letting his voice sound as pitiful as he dared.
“Yeah, you don’t look so good there kid,” She said.
Ben nodded and laid back down, sniffling as he did so. She bought it! She really bought it! He thought, smiling to himself.
Emma squinted at him, noticing for the first time how strangely colored her son’s face was. She reached over to brush his cheek. When she did so, the sparkly powder on his face rubbed off onto her thumb.
Ah. I understand.
She clicked on his lamp.
“Okay, you don’t have to go to school.” She said. “But, you do have to tell me why you have so much eye shadow all over your face.”
It was as if Ben’s heart stopped. Dread filled him as he realized he had been caught. He let out an unconvincing, “Um… I don’t know what you mean,” hoping to buy himself some time to think of an explanation. Maybe I can say Ellie must have come in and put in on me while I was sleeping?
But Emma had her no-nonsense face on, and even Ben knew better than to lie to that face. “Out with it, kid.” She demanded.
Ben sat up, already fighting back tears. “I just can’t go to school today, Mom.”
“I can tell. I don’t think any kid has ever put this much effort into looking sick,” she said gently, smiling as she gestured to the washcloth that sat crumpled on his sheets, creating quite the wet spot. He looked at it too, silently cursing himself for not stuffing it under the pillow before she came in.
“...Am I in trouble?” he asked. He thought that even if he was grounded or something, it was still better than getting on that school bus.
But Emma shook her head. “No, you’re not in trouble. But you look pretty upset, and obviously there’s something going on at school today that you were trying to avoid. Do you want to tell me what it is?”
Ben thought about the boys in his class- the really mean ones who sat in the corner and laughed at him. He tried to say something, but his throat was closing up again at the memory. He shook his head, hoping his mom would just drop it.
“Do you have a big test that you’re nervous about?” Emma ventured a guess. He shook his head.
“Is there a really boring assembly?” Emma wrinkled her nose, remembering all the long assemblies she’d had to sit through as a kid. She wouldn’t blame Ben if that was the reason. But again, he shook his head.
Emma sighed. “You’re going to have to help me out here, kid,” she said. She watched as Ben’s mouth twitched and his eyes filled up with tears, and suddenly she understood. She was shocked it had taken her so long to realize, in fact. Hadn’t she dealt with her fair share of mean girls when she was in school? And even more in the group homes she’d grown up in.
“Ben, honey. Is someone bullying you?” Her voice was gentle when she asked- and it was that gentleness that made the first tear fall on Ben’s face. Once he started, he found he couldn’t stop. He thought about all the times the boys from the back of the class had thrown bits of paper at the back of his head, or tipped his books out of his hands in the hallways. He had tried telling a hall monitor, but he had only been laughed at.
Boys will be boys, he remembered the teacher saying as he told Ben to get back to class. Things had escalated from there; the boys had seen Ben go to the hall monitor. Since then, they had been ‘accidentally’ running into him by the lockers so that he got scrapes on his arms from the locks. Or there was the time that they cornered him at the bus stop and spit on his shoes. And twice they had stolen his entire lunch- box and all. Emma had not been happy when, after buying him a new lunchbox to replace the first, he had come home without it a second time. He had told her he lost it, and now he had to take his lunch to school in a brown bag, which only made the boys laugh at him more.
But nothing compared to yesterday. Yesterday, they had pushed him up against the wall when no teachers were looking and threatened to hit him- and he knew they meant it. Luckily, someone had walked by before they had been able to throw any punches. But the boys had said they would “finish what they started.”
Ben didn’t have to guess what that meant.
“I can’t go to school today,” he sniffled, holding back another round of tears.
Emma pulled him into a hug. Too many times, she had been picked on and bullied and nobody had helped her. A small part of her- the part that was quick to blame herself- wondered how she hadn’t seen that her son was going through the same thing. “I’m so sorry, Ben.” She said earnestly. “Of course you don’t have to go to school today.”
Ben wiped his eyes, gently pulling himself out of his mother’s embrace. “I don’t?”
“No, kid. You clearly need a day off.” Ben nodded, having no words left that wouldn't make him start crying again. Emma stroked his hair the same way she had done for Henry when he was a boy. It struck her how different her sons were- at twelve, Henry was spontaneous and sarcastic while Ben was timid and tended to take things one step at a time.
Thinking of Henry, she got an idea.
“I’m going to go talk to your dad really fast, okay?” Again, Ben only nodded. But Emma noticed with relief that he was starting to calm down.
Ben laid in bed for what seemed like hours while his parents talked. He could hear murmurs through the wall- it sounded like they were making a phone call. Ben realized with terror that they might be calling the school to tell them about the boys in his class, and was afraid for a second that they might find out he had told.
That would only make it worse, Ben thought, imagining how they would tease him if they found out he had told his mom. He could only hope they hadn’t called the school.
He strained his ears harder to try to hear the phone call, but was disappointed when instead, he heard his parents hang up the phone. Shortly after that, his dad’s footsteps were coming up the stairs and towards his room. Ben sighed, annoyed at the timing.
“Hey there, champ,” Killian said, giving the door a light tap, tap as he opened it.
“‘Champ’?” Ben asked, despite himself.
Killian shrugged. “Aye, it sounded better in my head.”
"Who were you guys calling?" Ben asked, trying his best to sound uninterested. But his stomach knotted again as he asked, and he knew Killian could hear the worry in his voice.
"That was uh... Don't worry about it," Killian said, rubbing the back of his head.
"...Was it the school?"
"Huh? No. It was... Aunt Regina." Ben knew he was lying about it being Aunt Regina, but he had sounded sincere when he said it wasn't the school, so Ben felt that he could relax.
Instead of sitting down next to Ben, like he had expected, Killian went to the windows and pulled open his curtains. He muttered something about getting some light in here before turning back to Ben with a smile.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Ben croaked.
Killian balked, dramatically placing his hand over his heart. “What? A man can’t smile at his son anymore? I say that’s-”
“Dad,” Ben said, fighting back a small smile of his own. “What are you doing?”
For this, Killian did sit on the end of the bed. “Your mother said you’re staying home from school. So, I was just wondering if you’d like to come with me to the station for the day.” Killian didn’t even have to look at his son to know what his reaction was going to be. Ben was thrilled, sitting up right away.
“I’d like that.” Ben was grinning now; this was a pleasant surprise. He had been asking to go to the station with his dad for months now, but had always been told no. “What changed your mind?”
Killian ruffled his son’s hair. “I just thought perhaps you’d like a change of scenery. Now get dressed- I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready.”
Ben was practically beaming as he threw on some jeans and a shirt that he figured he could get another day out of, and met his dad downstairs so they could go to the station.