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Ben doesn't remember how many days it's been since Richards death. He knows its been a while from the change of fall leafs to the summer sun outside of the kitchen window. From the woman across the street who finally gave birth to the baby Ben swore still had four months left until their due date. The world and time itself seemed to continue on, moving for everyone else but him.
He would wake up fine, going about his day like he normally would, like before. Until he sees a sign, smells a plate of food, or hears a joke that reminds him of his brother. Something that he knows would earn a chuckle or a heartfelt smile from the man himself.
It doesn't happen everyday. He's lasted a few days where his other half didn't invade his mind and cloud his thoughts, but something always broke it.
More often than not, it was his nephew, Peter. The boy who is the spitting image of his father in every way that a child could be. His laugh, his smile, his mannerisms- it was everywhere. It seemed to cover Peter in everything that he did.
When he felt more lost than normal, he almost thought Peter was doing it on purpose. That he was doing it more as a way to expresses his blame and anger at Ben. Hate him for everyway he's failing the only thing Richard was ever proud of.
His brother was ecstatic when he found out Mary was Pregnant. Ben always thought that he would be a great father, since he was such a good older brother. Helping him through years of trouble with school, work and both of their parents deaths, Richard was the kind man destined for fatherhood. However, like every good father-to-be, he was nervous.
The day Peter was born, it seemed like every previous worry he had dissipated. From then on he only talked about Peters achievements and future. His first words, first holidays and first steps. How getting older seemed less scary because he got to see his son grow up.
Maybe that's what made his death so hard. Because not only did ben lose his brother, his brother lost his chance to be a dad.
This pent up rage and despair was eventually revealed one day after dinner. Peter, May and Ben were having a simple conversation about each others day. The boy didn't talk as much as he normally did, so May kept up most of the discussion. She was telling them a story about this crazy man that came into the hospital earlier that day. She told a joke, something short- that Ben thought was funny- and was about to laugh when he looked at peter. He had a soft smile on his face and a short chuckle that escaped his lips. His gaze was cast down at his plate, but Ben could see the amusement in his eyes.
The expression made him tense up. Suddenly, his food looked unappetizing and his throat felt constricted. He stood up abruptly and said goodnight. Or that he wasn't hungry, something along those lines. He turned around, walked into his room, shut the door and sat down on his bed, frozen.
He can't keep living like this.
He has to stop seeing Richard in everything that he comes across- especially Peter- but he just can't help it. Ben want's to forget him- just for a little while- so he could sleep. Because then he could wake up and finally feel refreshed, not like a weight was sitting on top of him that made his limbs feel too heavy to lift.
Suddenly, his door slammed open and shut just as quickly. May had a look on her face that ben couldn't discern, to many emotions were fighting for dominance to present themselves first.
"Ben. We need to talk."
His gaze went back to the floor, not wanting to see the restrained anger that won and could hear so clearly in her voice.
"Can we talk tomorrow? I'm really tired right now."
"..."
"No."
Ben's head snapped to the side, confusion from the break in their usual routine of talking in the morning and reassuring May that hes fine seemingly out of the question.
"What?"
Her gaze turned stern, but her eyes held an overwhelming amount of emotion.
"I'm worried about you Ben. At first you seemed okay. You worked hard to get Peter back into our custody and made sure he stayed, but this past month you've been stuck and a shell of yourself every since-"
"Stop May-"
"No!"
The air felt still. The accuser and the accused fell into silence.
May clenched her fists, body scrunching with an ache to make her husband understand.
"Ben, hunny you know it's true. I've tried to give you space, I really have. I know how much Richard meant to you. I miss him to but you can't-"
"Do you!?"
Ben stood up, unease turning into anger guiding his every move. The expression on his face changed into something else, suddenly reversing the roles.
"Because you seem to be perfectly fine! You seem to waking up living your life like nothing has changed. You're barely struggling, like this hasn't even affected you May! Like Mary and Richard didn't both die only a few months ago-"
"Because I have bigger concerns to worry about!" May's finger pointed towards Ben, angry.
"While I have given you space to grieve alone, I've have had to carry the grief of Peter on my own!"
That statement caused Ben to hesitate. His rock hard expression started to crack into concern.
"While you have been learning to move on from the loss of your brother, I have had to help Peter deal with losing both of his mother and his father!"
Her head tilted and eyes turned pleading.
"He's broken Ben. He's barley talking anymore. I've tried so hard to keep him smiling and laughing but it doesn't always work."
Tears started to fall down her face.
"I don't know what to do. I need your help to help Peter but-" she closes her eyes for a second, regaining her composure- "Your broken and grieving to and I just want to help you both but you keep pushing me away."
May walks forward towards her husband, cupping his checks tenderly in her hands.
"I need my husband back. And Peter needs his uncle."
Those words seemed to trigger something in Ben's brain, unleashing each bit of sorrow and pain he had tried so desperately not to show.
The tears seemed to fall in time with his words.
"I'm sorry May. I'm trying to move on and act how I normally would but I can't. I keep seeing him everywhere I go, in everything I look at-"-his voice cracks, guilt so clear in his words- "but especially Peter."
Ben hangs his head lower, shame taking a physical toll on him.
"I want to help him, hold him and tell him im here but I can't."
May doesn't waver with her words or her stance, staying firm in order to support her crumbling husband.
"Why not?"
"Because- Because it hurts to look at Peter and not think of him. I see Richard in everything that he his May and it hurts. Peter needs him, not me. I can't be what he needs because what he needs is what I need-and he's-he's not here-"
A broken sob escaped Bens lips as his legs give out in exhaustion, May falling down with him.
"Oh hun."
May wraps her arms around the love of her life and squeezes him as hard as she can.
"He-hic-he was so excited to be a father May. He just wanted to be a father."
Tears poured down Ben's face, blinding and hot. His chest convulsed with each breath, and the sobs wouldn't stop- sharp, ugly sounds he couldn't contain. Not anymore.
"I know Ben. I know."
The next morning Ben woke up with a new found determination. Initially, after the tragedy, Ben used cleaning and earning more money to get peter back from foster care as a distraction from facing his true feelings. Once he did get his nephew back, he tried to show Peter that he was okay. Like he wasn't dreading every morning without a random text from his brother to come over for lunch later that day.
Peter deserved to see and know what he was feeling. The boy needed him more than ever and Ben wasn't there, not as much as he should have been.
That's changing today.
Ben got off work at around five in the afternoon. May's shift ended at around seven, which gave Ben the perfect window opportunity to talk to Peter alone.
The fire station that Ben worked at was thankfully very close to Peter's school. On days like this when both Ben and May had late shifts, he used his lunch break to pick Peter up at around three and drive him the short distance home.
While ben didn't expect Peter to be to energetic after a long day of school, he didn't expect him to be completely close off. He was looking out the window, hoodie covering his face and one hand bellow his chin. Ben tried to ask how his day went and Peter gave him a short clipped response.
"Good, but I'm pretty sleepy."
Ben smirked into the rear view mirror.
"Okay kiddo, how about you take a nap when we get home. Sound good?"
His head tilted slightly downwards. "Yeah.."
The rest of the drive was silent. When Ben opened the door, Peter all but sprinted into his room. Well, as fast as those little legs of his could take him.
Ben wanted to say more, but as his gaze fell on the time glowing from the oven, he needed to head back to work.
The two hours Ben had left seemed to drag on for an ungodly amount of time. Calls, clean up, paperwork, the job never seemed to end. He was exhausted when he got home, but the feeling wasn't new. He still had one thing on his mind since the morning he woke up.
He needed to talk to peter.
That thought quickened his pace as he walked towards Peters bedroom and gave the door a short knock.
There was no answer from the other side, so he decided to answer himself. Peters room was one of organized chaos; at least that's what he would tell you if you asked him.
Ben looked at the further back left corner of the room where Peters blankets and pillows were covering a suspiciously shaped Peter-sized lump. It seemed he was still asleep.
Ben chuckled. The kid would always make a complete mess of his bed when he slept, pillows on the floor, and blanket wrapped around one leg but not the other. Like Richard when they were kids.
He reached out and gently shook the boys shoulder to wake him up, calling out to him softly.
"Pete? Can you wake up for me buddy? I wanted to ask you something."
The bit of movement that started to happen under the covers proved to Ben that his nephew heard him. That coupled with the sleepy "Hm?" sound he made to trick Ben into thinking he had his full attention.
"Peter kid, I need you to sit up for this one okay?"
Slowly, Peter sat up in his bed, curls sticking out in every direction with one small hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He opened them, confused at first, but then-
"No!"
The boy yelled and covered his face with his blanket, the action catching Ben off guard.
"No? Peter buddy, it won't be a long talk, just a quick conversation and you can go back to sleep if you want."
Ben was a little confused. Peter was never a stubborn kid to wake up. He would be a little slow in the morning to get out of his bed and eat breakfast-mostly from sleep- but after that, the kid always seemed ready for the day.
So this was a little concerning.
"Peter? what's wrong?"
The boy didn't move, only shaking slightly under the blanket.
The next words he said came out so low he almost didn't hear them.
"Don't look."
Huh?
"Peter? Don't look? What's wrong, are you hurt? Please take off the blanket I'm getting worried now-" He reached up to try and gently take if off but Peter wasn't budging.
"No! No! No! You can't!"
Ben didn't know what was happening but he was starting to get more worried with each passing second. He needed to know what was wrong. His voice cracked as he asked Peter that very question.
"Pete, could you please tell me what's wrong? You're starting to worry me."
The boy was silent for a moment, but then he spoke.
"You'll…. you'll be sad again. I don't want you to be sad."
Be sad? what was he talking about?
"Peter, what do you mean?"
Ben was met with silence.
"Peter? I promise I wont be sad if-"
"Yes you will!" -he yelled through the blanket, tiny fingers clenching the ends- "You always get this sad look on your face when you look at me! I don't like it! I don't like making you sad!"
Silence.
Ben, for the first time since getting that horrible phone call, was stunned into silence.
He didn't know what to say. How to ask.
How long has he been holding this in? When did he start noticing?
When did Ben not notice?
"Peter…." He tried to sound steady, but he was failing.
God what kind of uncle was he?? It was his job to protect Peter, and instead of being there for him like he was supposed to be, he was causing him more pain. Ignoring him for his own. He was hurting Peter.
"I-" He tired to find the words, to deny the truth, soften the blow- but he couldn't. He was done lying to the boy.
"You're right. Sometimes, when I see you, I get a little sad."
The confession caused Peters head to snap up, blanket forgotten as the truth was finally revealed.
He was crying now, tears falling down his baby face and lips quivering as he talked.
"I knew it! I knew it! I'm sorry uncle Ben I-hic-"
He clutched tighter around the blanket like it could protect him. It took Ben a moment to recognize that the blanket he was holding was the one Richard's mother had given to his brother when he was a child. A colorful one with green, red, yellow and blue crocheted into a mesmerizing pattern. The tag stitched on to the end of the soft fabric stood out to him. He could see the words written on it from Mrs. Grayson herself clear as day.
"For my little robin, may you always fly to greater heights. Love mamma."
Richard smiled as he showed Ben the blanket.
"Its one of the only things I have left from them that my mother personally made. It means the world to me.
"So I can't use it as a pillow when I sleep on the couch?" Ben asked inconsiderately, the way only an ignorant younger brother at the rip age of seven could be.
Richard laughed, "absolutely not, you'll get all your drool all over it!"
Ben whined high and long, "You can't use it forever, you're gonna be old soon!"
"Old?! I'm turning thirteen!"
"That's old."
"No it isn't!"
Ben giggled.
"And any way, I don't want it to get ruined. I wanna save it."
Ben's head tilted to the side in confusion. "Save it? For what?"
Richard had a soft smile on his face, eyes looking down at the blanket in his hands. "Someone."
Ben whined again. "Ugh you're so weird! Will I get weird when I get older?"
"SHUT UP I'M NOT OLD!"
The sudden memory hurt, and so did Peter's next words.
"I -hic- I've tried to stop myself! I really have uncle Ben!"
He rubbed his eyes to try and keep the tears from slipping through. His breath coming out short.
"I heard what you said! I've tried not to smile or laugh when you see me! -hic- but I still failed! I'm sorry I look like him! I'm so sorry!"
Peter was hysterical at this point, cradling into himself for support, for anything.
It hurt Ben in a way he could never have imagined.
Because Peter was apologizing for having the face of his dead brother, like that was something he needed forgiveness for.
He reached up slowly, garbing onto Peter's head and pulling him into his chest. leaning down, Ben placed his head right on top of Peter's. He stroked Peter curls and tenderly rubbed his back, hoping to calm him down. After a few minutes, it seemed to have started taking affect.
"Peter. I need you to listen to me very carefully. You have done nothing wrong."
"But-"
"No. Please let me get the words out."
He was silent, hiccupping and sniffling into Ben shirt.
"When your father passed, I was broken. I lost the only person who has been with me since the beginning. My one and only sibling not by blood, but by life, by choice. The only thing that has kept me going in spite of that is you."
Ben grabbed his nephews face.
"You are the best gift your father has ever given me. You are not a reminder of what I lost Peter. That's not why I'm sad when I look you. You're a reminder of what I loved. I only look sad because I still miss your father very much."
Peter looked at him with so much hope and desperation in his eyes Ben almost wanted to look away, but he didn't.
"When I look at you, I see my brother and I see my favorite nephew. Don't you ever apologize for that.
A Big, bright and breathtaking smile broke out onto Peter's face. His eyes light up in that oh so familiar way that Ben missed so much.
A smile slowly spread onto Ben's face to.
"There's my beautiful boy."
Peter giggled -music to Ben's ears- and squeezed him like his life depended on it. Ben's sure did.
They stayed like that for a while, only pulling apart when Ben asked if he wanted to get ice cream after dinner.
"Yes! Yes! Mint-chocolate chip please!
Ben laughed. "Peter, you can tell that to the cashier when we get there. Besides, you get the same order every time, I know."
Peter looked at Ben like he said the dumbest thing in the world.
"Uh yeah uncle Ben, because it's delicious?"
"You and your father are the only people I have ever met that believe such nonsense."
"Hey!-"
From that point on, Ben made it his life's mission to try and make Peter smile as much he could. His face no longer had the expression of longing, but of love.
He's doesn't care what it takes to make his nephew become the best version of himself that he could be. Whether he fails, falls, or dies trying, he will do whatever it takes to keep that boy happy.
Because that's a better alternative than losing a piece of his brother for the second time.