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“Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life." - Anne Roiphe
“Okay, thank you… Sounds good, I appreciate you getting back to me… Mhmm. Thank you, bye.” Ben hung up, sinking down fully in the chair, until he was fully slumped down into it. He was sitting at Pope’s desk; borrowing the computer to do his mandatory training when he got the call. Tom and the other men knew it was something to do with Will from the single side of the conversation they could hear; with very little detail to be had.
Everyone’s attention was on Ben, some of them attempting to be subtle, some of them not trying at all.
He’d visibly deflated during the call, and now he seemed to be in a true thousand-yard stare. Ben’s eyes weren’t looking at anything specifically– though landed somewhere in the general direction of one of the ceiling tiles.
“Benny? Everything good, bud?” The new guy– Marine SSgt. Robin “Birdy” Clark– broke the silence, from the far wall. Tom was sitting with his chair turned, so he could see all of the small office. Clark was to his left, sitting by the mini-fridge; and across from the captain, Pope and Catfish sat at the squeezed in little table along the wall. Tom could tell, everyone looked worried, but clearly doing their best not to look too on-edge; for Ben’s sake. Tom stayed quiet, but ready to shoot a glare at anyone if they tried to push Ben. The Army Ranger sighed, and closed his eyes, a hand coming up to scrub at his face. Ben took a deep breath, and Tom watched as Ben’s shoulders and chest rose then fell slowly.
“It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it; or if you don’t think Ironhead would like you to,” Tom reminded Ben gently. He was curious, of course, they all were; but there were those little things like H.I.P.P.A. and just general respect that they were expected to uphold– Tom especially.
Ben seemed to consider it for a second, before his hand finally lowered, and he shook his head. “I think I need to talk to Will first…”
“Of course,” Tom said softly.
The men looked more visibly worried, watching Ben with soft, sad eyes. The office was quiet, no one sure what to say or do.
Then, Ben’s phone chirped out a notification dutifully. Ben closed his eyes for a moment. It was the sound they all recognized as being exclusively for texts from Will. “I’ll be right back,” Ben said and stood. “I’ll be out in the smoke pit… give him a call, ‘nd shit. That okay, Redfly?”
“Sure thing, take your time.”
Tom settled down next to Ben, who was still in the smoke pit behind their building. Most everyone else was off to lunch– including the rest of the team. Ben glanced back, acknowledging Tom's presence by pulling out his pack of cigarettes, and offering one to Tom silently.
Tom took it, equally silent, and fished out a lighter. He didn’t smoke much anymore, but the habit of carrying a lighter would never leave. Besides, they were too useful for things outside of smoking for him to even want to try and break the habit. Tom stifled a yawn as he settled in a space near Ben, but still giving him some breathing room. Ben wasn’t looking at anything in particular, just had his face resting on the heel of his hand, cigarette between his fingers; as he sat sideways on the bench, staring out to the nature just beyond the chain link fences. His one leg pulled up, loosely held at the ankle by his free hand.
If Tom didn’t know better, he’d say Ben looked almost relaxed– as if lost in thought or some kind of daydream. He knew it was anything but that, but didn’t say anything as he just lit the gifted cigarette and took the first few drags. He’d let Ben talk when he wanted to, if he wanted too.
Eventually, Ben broke the silence, when Tom was about halfway through his cigarette.
“One of my good buddies, from the Rangers, he got his leg blown off. A while later, after he was a civilian again, he told me one of the hardest parts was realizing his family had to grieve the changes too. Sure they hadn’t lost a leg but everything had changed, and they were going at their own pace… I don’t think I fully got what he meant until now,” Ben said, frowning slightly at the nearby trees at nothing in particular; though his eyes tracked a few squirrels as best he could from the distance.
“Huh,” Tom hummed mulling over the idea. It made sense, at least as much as it could. “Would you say you’re grieving then?”
Ben’s face slowly pinched in thought, clearly going through a myriad of emotions. He finally lowered his hand and ashed his cigarette, finding it nearly to filter. Sighing, he flicked it to the cement ground and snuffed it out with his boot idly. “Rationally, logically? Yeah… I still don’t think it’s fully hit me yet, though,” Ben admitted and finally let his eyes meet Tom’s for a moment.
“Yeah, thats how it goes, usually. Then one day you’re just minding your own business and it ambushes you outta nowhere…” Tom mused, knowingly. He’d experienced it himself too often, losing men and friends over his long career. Tom was still waiting for it all to hit him for this divorce.
Ben hummed in knowing agreement, before going quiet again. Tom let it happen, the young man clearly needed the time. This was all hard to navigate, just being Will’s friend; he couldn’t imagine what it was like for Ben, as his sibling. Especially not when Will was as much as his older brother as he was a parental-figure.
“That was audiology,” Ben finally spoke again after bit, explaining the phone call. “They confirmed his tinnitus.”
Tom mulled that over for a moment, they had all suspected the tinnitus for a little bit now. As Will got better overall and the more long-term or even permanent symptoms stuck around while the rest slowly started to fade away. But, that alone didn’t seem like it would bring him down so much. Even in the most dire of circumstances, it was hard to outwardly sour his mood so visibly: Ben was good at masking his emotions and keeping a smile on his face.
“It’s more than just the tinnitus, isn’t it?” Tom asked, watching him. Ben’s eyes flicked back to the nothing-distance for a moment before he nodded.
“Yeah… he had his like, most recent big check up, to see where his progress was. He’s made– He’s made so much fuckin’ progress but… I don’t think it’s enough. Not to stay in this line of work at least… Umm.. Like, his balance is still really bad, he’s still getting those killer migraines. He’s stayed in shape but his strength hasn’t quite caught back up yet. His therapist is worried about the big mood swings too, which doesn’t help. Just like, it’s a bunch of small shit that on it’s own, probably would be fine? But all of that stuff, and now audiology… I’m not even sure if he’s gonna be allowed to stay in as a trainer or on a shitty desk job…”
Ben fell quiet once more, and he tipped his head back, letting his eyes close. Tom let the silence fall between them once more. The captain leaned forward, putting his elbows to his legs to prop himself up. He idly checked his watch, they wouldn’t have long until people started filtering back from lunch.
“Willy has been working so hard…” Ben sighed, his voice was softer again; but with more of a crack. The younger man was staring up at the ceiling of the smoke pit gazebo. “He’s been sticking to all his physical therapy and more– I don’t think I’ve ever seen him work out so much. He’s been exhausted because of the recovery and all the issues; but I think too he’s just been training so much in trying to get better.” Ben finally looked down and fell into a pose similar to himself.
“Think he’s pushing too hard?” Tom asked. He knew, of course, how hard Will had been working. They all did, but Ben saw him the most, and saw all the bad, all the hurt that they didn’t, because Will tried to hide it or downplay it. Ben had been in a tenuous balance, of trying to respect Will’s privacy and support him; all while staying realistic and making sure his brother was getting the help he needed.
“Hard to tell… I don’t think so? Doing so would set him back too much and he knows that. But maybe just shy… I dunno… Still…” Ben trailed off, before he stopped and looked to him. What Tom saw broke his heart: Ben’s eyes were red and wet and instead of his usual, relaxed expression was fear. Not as bad as those first days when Will was in the hospital, but not very far off either. “The worst part? I think he could do it. I think he could get back to exactly where he was… I just don’t think he can do it fast enough…”
Tom wasn’t given the chance to interject, as Ben continued; voice low and calm despite all of the hurt dripping from his words. He wouldn’t have interrupted even if he wanted to. This was about Ben – and by proxy, Will – not himself; and Ben was clearly struggling to make sense of it all. Grieving.
“Willy’s worked his ass off his entire life. I mean, when I was born, he was six years old and our mom was in rough shape and our old man was a whole other thing. Will was a fuckin’ nanny by six, became basically my only real parent at ten because mom dyin’ wasn’t gonna suddenly make our old man act like a fucking father.” Tom nodded as Ben spoke, it was a topic the team knew a lot about though neither Miller particularly enjoyed speaking about it much.
“And he joined the military so he could take care of me, was the only eighteen year old taking care full time of some dumb pre-teen,” Ben snorted softly. “He’s never not sacrificed his life for me or anyone else. It’s always been his needs last, no matter how much you argue with him about it.” Ben shifted in his seat, so he was sitting forward again; his arms going to drape across the bench-back, while he got the rare chance to man-spread due to them being alone and his gangly body was able to actually stretch out. “He once told me, around the time of his first re-enlistment that his plan from the start, even if he’d ended up hating it, he was gonna go career… All so he could make sure I was taken care of…”
Tom inhaled slowly, rolling the cigarette between his fingers as he thought. He’d learned as much about Will, it’d been pretty obvious once he’d gotten to know him even a little. He was very much a self-sacrificer, someone who put everyone above themselves. It was commendable, really. Dangerous, too. Tom got the feeling that Will had that part of him taken advantage of a lot– intentionally or otherwise. “He’s a great man,” Tom said. It was lame, cliche, but the truth.
“Damn fuckin’ right he is,” Ben huffed, though Tom didn’t think it was directed at him so much as perhaps the universe at large. “Ya’know, signing up to try out for the green berets, then here… Those are, I think the only truly selfish things he’s ever done for himself… He’d planned career sure but, he actually wanted all this… It’s one of the few things he’s ever allowed himself, for better and worse… and all it’s given him in return is the worse…”
It’s what we signed up for, it’s the military what can you expect. That is the dribble his well-trained brain almost instinctively supplied; despite the fact it was all bullshit and even if it wasn’t– he didn’t believe a damn word of it; not when it came to Will. It was just the useless garbage that they’d been trained to say, as if it actually made things better. But… this was Will. The man really had earned, and deserved, so much better. Tom wished he could give him that better, whatever that would look like.
“It’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Tom finally managed, keeping it short and simple because he didn’t trust his own voice in that moment. Tom snuffed out his own cigarette in the same way Ben had. He could only just barely stuff down most of the rising emotion in his own gut; and even then, he knew Ben could tell it was there. He also probably knew Tom was doing his best to stay the level-headed one.
Ben let out a weak, bitterly-amused huff of agreement. “Yeah… Yeah it fuckin’ is…” The younger man reached up and he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand; and took a long-slow breath. “… Thanks, big guy,” Ben said softly glancing up. His eyes were still sad and watery; but Tom could see him slowly rebuilding the mask.
“Always, Benny. Anything either of you ever need, I’ll do it.”
“I know, we know…”
Tom watched him for a beat, and took a deep breath himself. “Do you need to get back to Will?”
Ben shook his head, then gave a weak half shrug. “He was in a bit of a tizzy, when I called but– but by the end he apparently had such a bad migraine that he just went to take a nap. So I think he’s okay; probably won’t wake up for a bit. I think it would just make him feel worse anyways if I came home early just to see to him right now.”
“Ah… Yeah, probably.” Tom’s fingers drummed on his thighs before finally he pushed himself up. Distantly, they could hear some cars passing more frequently, as people started to slowly filter back from lunch. “Take your time out here; honestly I’ve got nothing else for you personally. So as far as I’m concerned, you can take off whenever you need– or want to– so long as you finish up that training today.”
“Will do, sir.”
What Tom wanted to do, was pull the man up and into the tightest hug he'd ever given anyone. But he couldn't; not at work, not in uniform. Their line of work meant they got closer than officer and enlisted usually do on average, but Tom was still his superior and an officer. It was generally better to err on the side of caution; besides the next time he saw him off base, he would rectify it. So, instead of a bone-crushing, hour long hug; Tom pat Ben’s shoulder affectionately and squeezed. “You’re a great man, Benny; and and an even better brother. You’re doing a fine job.”
Ben nodded a little, smiling weakly but genuinely at the high praise. “Thanks, Tom.”
“Of course.”