Clueless

*Ben's p.o.v.*

I sluggishly made my way through the halls. I'd been taking daily walks around the hospital, Misha by my side. He was like a brother, and he said he wanted me to get better. Said. That didn't mean he meant it.
I'd learned that my real family wasn't exactly the most truthful, so why would anyone be?

I'd been having him watch over me since I'd run out of the hospital. They'd had to set up a small search party in order to find me, and of course they'd blocked off the door, and assigned me a worker to keep an eye on me.
Misha had been no bullshit. He told me exactly what he was watching me for, but I didn't really listen. I didn't care.

They'd also been making sure I left my room for every meal, and at least an hour in between each. I sat alone. Cameron looked at me like I was a freak. Sam would talk to me sometimes. James just ignored me. And everyone else just kept their distance, as usual.
I didn't eat. No one forced me to. There wasn't really a point to it.
We all die, anyway. I realized that now all too well.

Today was my second time seeing Mr. Tony for therapy. My first had been the day after I got to the facility, just like everyone else was required to do.
Everyone had to see the therapist weekly, but we'd come to realize that I wasn't going to go, and no one could force me. So I just sat around all day while everyone tried to get better. Fine by me, since I had nothing to go back to if I got out.
But now that they'd seen me break down twice- first in the room, when they'd taken Danny away, second when I tried to run- I had to go. I couldn't really protest. I'd stopped talking.

Misha and I rounded the corner that led to the lobby, then to the door with a gold plate that had 'Mitchell Tony - Psychiatrist' engraved in it.

We entered without knocking, and Mr. Tony was already sitting there with that fake smile plastered on his stupid face.

"Hello, Benjamin," he said, clasping his hands together in front of him.
I glared at him and sat in the leather chair across from his.
"You may sit on the couch, if you'd be more comfortable."

I crossed my arms and snorted, letting my gaze fall to the floor which seemed much more interesting than anything else.
The door shut, signifying Misha's departure, which I was kind of glad for. I mean, you get sick of someone once they've been following you for a month.
I folded my legs under me, the leather making a strange noise as it came in contact with my bare feet.
Yeah, I walked around without shoes. Not like I needed them, exactly.

"Alright. So, how have you been feeling?" Mr. Tony asked, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.
I stared at him blankly. I wasn't going to answer. I didn't need to talk. What was the point?
He gave a curt nod and wrote something in a little book in front of him.
"It can be very traumatic to see someone close to you cause harm to their own body, especially with the intention of ending their life. I understand that. Were you close to Daniel?"
That indifferent blank stare. I had to keep my walls up.
I wouldn't talk. It's not like I was going to get better. Ever.
Again with the nod, and writing something down.
"Look. Benjamin," I cringed at the full name, "I understand that this is difficult, but you're going to have to talk at some point. I just want to help you."
The therapist sat up straighter and his smile drooped slightly.
"I could get you a notebook and pen, if that would help you to communicate."

I rolled my eyes and pondered it for a minute. I really didn't want to talk... I'd grown accustomed to not speaking.
Finally, I just nodded. I wanted to get better. Scratch that, I just wanted to get out of that office. It smelled like old lady perfume... Even though it was a man's office. Strange.
Mr. Tony brightened and quickly pulled out a pad of paper, and a pen, handing them to me. I took them from him and set them down in my lap.

"So. Back to where we left off. Were you close to Daniel?" He asked, eyeing me carefully.

I cringed and scribbled on the paper, my chicken scratch handwriting covering a corner.
I don't want to talk about him.

He raised an eyebrow and wrote something down.
"Why not?"

I sighed.
I just don't.
What was I supposed to say? I'm a wolf and he was my mate?

Mr. Tony gave another nod, then tapped the pen against his lip.
"Why did you have that little attack of yours when the doctors took him away? We were just trying to help," he said, still watching for a reaction.

I let a tiny growl slip, but wrote my answer.
I didn't want you to take him away.
I hesitated before showing him, but just gave up and did anyway.

More notes.
"Right. Could you elaborate a bit?"

I bit my bottom lip, sucking on my lip rings. The cold metal gave me a little comfort.
I poised the pen over the paper and thought about what I could say.
I finally settled for the truth... just not the complete truth.
I wanted to keep him safe.

Mr. Tony nodded, writing some more in his notebook. That was getting annoying fast.
"And Daniel-"
I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about him anymore. I didn't want to think about him anymore.
I might start crying if we did. Danny was a touchy subject.
The therapist smiled slightly and nodded, understanding.
"And what happened with the boys in the recreation room? I believe it was Ronald Radke, Maxwell Green, Oliver Sykes, and Beau Bokan, correct?"
He stared at me intently.

They were being cunts. Just like they always are. I wrote, giving him a little smirk.

Mr. Tony scolded me about my word choice with his eyes, and wrote something else in his notes before studying me carefully.
"Why did you attempt to run away?"

I bit my lip again and sighed.
It was just too much.

Mr. Tony nodded thoughtfully.
"What do you mean by 'too much'?"

I shrugged, not in the mood to tell anyone about it.
How could I explain to someone how I felt? There are two sides of my brain, and they were both feeling the same thing. They collided and I felt like everything just didn't make sense. I lost my friends. I lost Danny. I lost everything.

Mr. Tony cleared his throat and I looked up quickly.
I must have zoned out for a minute.
He clasped his hands together and leaned forward so his forearms were resting on the desk.
"Do you ever think about what happened with your parents, Benjamin?"

I shook my head, but I think about them all the time. Nobody had to know. They wouldn't believe the truth, anyway.

The beak-nosed psychiatrist regarded me curiously.
"I have a feeling you're hiding things from me. I'm not going to tell anyone your secrets, Ben. You can trust me. I just want to help you."

He didn't say Benjamin.
I stared at him for awhile. I didn't trust him. I didn't trust anyone, for that matter.
I finally wrote a reply slowly, poking my tongue out from between my lips.
I don't trust anyone.

He smiled, and it almost seemed sympathetic.
"Ben, I know how you feel."

You don't know I scribbled furiously. I'll never trust anyone.
I showed him and he nodded again.

"But I'm here to tell you that you can trust people-"

I trusted him.
I threw the notebook onto Mr. Tony's desk and covered my face with my hands.
I was shaking because I was going to break down. I was going to have a panic attack, and I didn't know why.
I guess I just didn't want to talk about that anymore.

"Calm down, Benjamin," Mr. Tony said quietly, and suddenly his voice was a lot less annoying than before. It made me calm down a bit.

I took a deep breath, and combined it with shutting my eyes tightly as well as nibbling on my lip ring.
I finally calmed down enough to open my eyes. I blinked a few times and shot Mr. Tony an apologetic look.

"Who were you referring to when you said 'I trusted him'?" he asked, sliding the notebook back over to me across the desk.

I took the notebook and flipped to the next page, since I'd filled the last one, and wrote shakily.
Danny.
I kind of stared at the word instead of showing it. When Mr. Tony's hand appeared near the corner of the book, I clutched it to my chest and shook my head.
I didn't want him to see it.
Danny was mine.

The therapist gave me an encouraging look and kept his hand splayed out in front of me, waiting for me to hand him the information that he wanted.
But I didn't want him to see. If he saw, would he figure out that Danny and I were more than roommates? What we had was more than a friendship?
What would happen if everyone found out I was gay?

I was hyperventilating again.
I looked up at Mr. Tony with wide eyes and he just stared back calmly.
"Benjamin, it's fine. I won't tell anyone. Trust me."

I finally just gave up and showed the man, my eyes on the far wall. I couldn't make myself look to his reaction because I was scared.
But what was I so scared of? Danny was gone, anyway. He was asleep and he wasn't going to wake up. His beautiful, scarred up soul could finally have peace.

"What made you feel that you could trust him?" Mr. Tony asked cautiously. He knew my old roommate was a touchy subject, he just didn't know the reason why.

I tapped the marker on the paper, trying to figure out how to explain.
I loved him.
I showed him the sentence, a bit nervous. I was practically telling the guy I hated since the moment I met him that I was gay.
Mr. Tony raised and eyebrow and I rolled my eyes.
As more than a friend.

A timer conveniently went off and I placed the notebook and marker on Mr. Tony's desk.
He smiled and clasped his hands together again.
"I think we've made some great progress today, Mr. Bruce," he said. "Next week we can continue talking about this."

I nodded, standing up. The door opened and I turned, finding Misha standing there waiting for me to follow him.
I turned before I left, giving Mr. Tony a don't fuck me over look, then shut the door behind me.

I walked wordlessly next to the big russian, dragging my feet toward my room. I stared at the ground for the few minutes it took to get there.

"What the hell?" Misha muttered, speeding up a bit.
I looked up and saw a medium-sized dog scratching against my door. It had sleek black fur, and as we got closer it looked up.
It had the prettiest blue-green eyes, it's pink tongue poking out as it whined softly.
Misha reached to pick it up.

"Stop!" I said, my voice nearly a croak due to the lack of use.
Misha looked up with a surprised expression and froze mid-reach for the creature.
"It's mine," I said quickly, pushing past him. The dog was small, and it was barely as tall as my calves.
I scooped it up and it licked the side of my face. I glanced from the dog in my arms to Misha blankly, knowing well that the man didn't believe me, but hoping that he would just let it slide. I mean, there was no rule against having pets. I knew for a fact that Alan Ashby had a cat, and Ronald Radke had a dog.

We had a stare down, and finally Misha nodded slightly.

"I'm going to take a nap," I said quietly, my voice already tired from the little conversation, if you could even call it that.

Misha nodded again and watched me walk into my room, then he disappeared behind the wood of the door as I closed it.

I stared at the dog curled up against my chest and sighed.
So this is what I've come down to; protecting a dog. But it was cute, so I couldn't really complain.
I leaned down and gently placed him on the ground. He whined and scratched on my pant leg, but I just smiled and shook my head.
It gave up and looked around, and it almost looked sad, but hey I was just mad. It pranced over to Danny's bed and settled down on the bare mattress.
I walked over slowly, swallowing hard as I neared the bed.
I stood above it and felt tears start building. The dog looked up and whimpered, standing back up. He trotted over to me and bit my sleeve, tugging at it. I stared at him for a little bit then finally complied and took a seat next to the animal. He curled up in my lap and I slid my fingers through his soft fur.

"This bed was my roommates," I said quietly after a minute. The creature looked up at me and blinked.
"His name was Danny," I continued, the tears threatening from behind my lids. I cleared my dry throat. "I liked him a lot. He was cute and funny and sweet..."
I mentally hit myself. Was I really talking to an animal about my problems? Animals can't understand humans, and we can't understand them, so what was the point of talking?
But when I looked down, the dog was still looking at me intently, his head tilted to the side in a cute way.
I smiled bitterly before deciding to continue... It's not like he could make my life hell by laughing at me.
"Can I tell you a secret?" I whispered.
I chuckled. I was talking to him like he might answer.
The dog blinked and I smiled.
"I'm like you," I said, rubbing his velvety ears. "Well, almost. I'm a werewolf. If I could get outside, we could run together. We could get away from this place. Wouldn't that be fun?"
The dog wagged its tail and I smiled triumphantly.
"You're smart, you know that? It's almost like you understand what I'm saying." I dug my fingers deep into his fur, scratching gently on his skin. He let out a low, pleased sound.
"Anyway. Danny was my mate. Know what that is? It's love. And my wolf fell in love with him. But then I did, too. Isn't that mad? Our wolves were in love, and we were in love. Well... I don't know if he loved me..."
The dog continued to stare at me with those soft, knowing eyes. I sighed.
"Danny died, though, and I think it was my fault." Those tears I'd been saving began to fall, and I didn't bother stopping them.
I sobbed quietly and the dog rubbed his face against my neck. He whined loudly, almost like he was crying with me.

"Sorry," I said, a dry, humourless laugh escaping my throat. I reached up to wipe my tears away, but the dog leaped up and licked them away. I giggled and scratched behind his ears, and he let out a pleasured sound.

I just sat there, petting the little dog for a few minutes.
"I'm gonna sleep," I yawned, plucking the dog up and placing him on the mattress before striding over to my bed lazily.

He looked at me with those wide puppy-dog eyes and I threw my shirt off. It landed haphazardly somewhere on the ground and I collapsed onto my bed, flinging my arm over my eyes.
A warm tongue flicked over my cheek and I peeked around my arm, smiling at the dog. He nuzzled into my neck before hopping off the bed and trotting out of sight.

I sighed and shut my eyes, quickly drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

***

"Dinner," I heard, accompanied by a loud bang.
I groaned and rolled onto my back, forcing my eyes open. I pawed at my eyes and sat up, carefully avoiding looking at Danny's bed.

"Coming," I yelled, stretching slightly. I looked down and saw the dog sleeping on top of my shirt that I'd taken off.
I smiled slightly at the sight and chose a different random shirt from the floor, throwing it on. I crept out of the room and went to the dining hall, Misha a few paces behind me.
I looked down at the floor when we got there, not wanting to see everyone staring at me like they always did.
I retreated to a corner table, plopping down, resting my head on the hard surface. Misha had been instructed to fuck off during lunch, so basically, I was alone. I didn't mind.
Alone was my lifestyle, I guess.

Someone cleared their throat and I looked up with an irritated glare.

"This seat taken?"

I snorted and let my head fall again.
The legs of the chair scraped against the ground and he sat down, setting his lunch tray down with the clank of plastic.

"What do you want, Cameron?" I asked softly, refusing to look at him.

"I wanted to apologize for all those accusations, that day when you ran away," he said, his voice holding something I couldn't decipher.
"If I would have known you loved Danny I wouldn't have even questioned why you were so upset. So I'm sorry."

I sat up, then, and shrugged. "It's fine."

Cam ran his hand through his hair, sighing. "Look, Ben. I know that you're going to hold that against me forever, because you're definitely one to hold a grudge, but I just want to be friends again. If that's even possible."

I slammed my fist down onto the table, standing up.
"Look, Cameron," I snapped. "People like me don't have friends. The people we get close to get hurt, as you can already see. So do yourself a favour and fuck off before you end up dead, too."
I stood up and stormed back to my room.

I slammed the door, which only caused a long howl to erupt from next to my bed. I jumped before I realized it was just the dog.
He was standing up on Danny's bed, staring at me. I realized that my shirt was now on the mattress, and he was still on it.
I guess he liked Motley Crue as well.

"Why are you on Danny's bed?" I asked. His ears perked up when I said the name.
"Do you like that name?" I asked, striding over to sit next to him. "Danny?"

The dog barked and I smiled.
"Alright. I'll call you Danny, then," I chuckled.
He barked again and my smile slipped.

God, I missed him...

I choked when Danny the dog rubbed against my nose, which was met with the thick smell of dirt, with a chemical-ish smell buried behind it all. I coughed and glowered at him.
"Dude. You stink."

He barked and I giggled. "Shower?"

He tried to wiggle out of my grasp but I held fast and picked him up, walking over to the bathroom. I set him on the floor and he sat down, sneezing, though it sounded more like a snort.

I turned the shower on and took my shirt off. While I waited for the shower to heat up I brushed my teeth, then pulled my joggers off.
When I turned around, Danny was in that same position, staring at me. I scoffed over-dramatically and put my hands on my hips.
"What're you looking at?" I giggled. He barked and I laughed again before slipping out of my boxers. I took a step toward him, but he barked again and ran behind the toilet.
"I don't want to play games," I groaned, running over to the toilet and scooping Danny up before he could escape.
He looked up at me, his innocent puppy eyes wider than usual. I must have frightened him by picking him up.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, rubbing my cheek against his furry neck. His back leg twitched and his tongue lolled out of his mouth, causing me to grin widely.

I opened the glass shower door and set Danny onto the floor and stepped in, shutting the door before he could get out.
His nails made a sickening sound as he scratched at the shower door.

***

After two hours in the shower, I'd finally gotten Danny clean. He kept slipping away from me and barking and nipping at me the entire time.
Sigh. Difficult. I didn't mind all that much, though.

"You're lucky you're cute," I muttered, running my fingers through his slightly damp fur. He 'hmmphed' and nipped at my wrist.