Work Text:
John found Ben in his library. Ben’s house was full of secrets-- secret rooms inside secret rooms, drawer upon drawer of little secrets.
He knew Ben could get a bit touchy around Christmas, and he wanted to check in on him. He had never been too close to Ben, but he sensed that this man might need a little bit of checking up on here and there. He walked to Ben’s house from his, noticing its location in center of Othersville, like Ben had wanted to be close to everyone, while also being locked behind a wall.
John walked onto Ben’s porch, knocking on the door. When he didn’t get a response, he knocked again. The lights were on inside, but no answer.
Strange.
John experimentally twisted the doorknob, assuming someone as careful as Ben would remember to lock it. To his surprise, however, the wooden door creaked open, inviting John inside. He paused, considering coming back another time, but he had this feeling in the back of his mind that Ben needed a little bit of healthy attention.
He had heard the rumors that Ben had been abused growing up, and he always wondered if it was true. Ben was in his forties, but he couldn’t help but wonder if that kind of thing sticks with you-- if it was true, that is. For Ben’s sake, he hoped it was just a rumor, but he knew that was unlikely.
With all of those thoughts in his head, he had decided to check in on Ben, if not for Ben’s sake then for his. He stepped into the house, noting the neatness of it all, how even the pillows seemed to be standing tall like soldiers.
“Hey, Ben? I hope you don’t mind, your door was unlocked so I let myself in.”
...
No response. John ventured in deeper, feeling everything Ben Linus surround him like he was in a whale’s mouth. Ben’s books, Ben’s chairs and picture frames and rugs and blankets. He walked into the library, spotting Ben sitting at the desk. Ben didn’t seem to notice him, very focused on reading. When John stepped closer, he could see that Ben was reading a children’s picture book.
“Hey Ben.” John said.
Ben looked up at John before returning to his book.
“Whatcha reading?” John asked.
“Snow White.” Ben said softly.
John was very confused as to why Ben was reading a children’s book, but the sincerity on Ben’s face made him rethink.
“Is it good?”
“Yeah.”
Ben seemed strange-- softer, more honest in his emotions, and strangely innocent.
“Ben, can I stay with you for a little bit while you read?”
“Yeah.” Ben went back to reading, moving to sit cris-cross in his chair. John saw Ben wasn’t wearing shoes or socks, and his feet were dirty.
“Were you outside, Ben?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
John approached him slowly, resting his hand on Ben’s shoulder.
“Ben... are you okay?”
He was surprised when not only did Ben not reject the touch, but actually leaned into it. John was surprised by the desperation in Ben’s actions. He moved his hand to the side of Ben’s face and that seemed to placate him.
“Ben--”
“Can you please stay with me? I don’t wanna be alone.”
John was surprised at how small Ben seemed at that moment. He couldn’t even think about refusing.
“Of course Ben, I’ll stay.”
This wasn’t the cold Ben he knew. The calculating person who had such a presence when he walked in. This Ben was small and scared looking. John furrowed his brow, wondering if he was witnessing some kind of trauma response.
“Can you tell me what’s going on, Ben? Do you want me to call anyone for you?”
Ben shook his head, wrapping his slim fingers around John’s hand, keeping it pressed to his face.
“My birthday was two days ago.” Said Ben.
“Oh. Happy birthday, Ben.”
“Daddy would get drunk on my birthday and tell me I’m the reason my mom died.”
“...oh.” John didn’t quite know how to respond. “I’m sorry.”
Ben shut his eyes as he leaned more into the touch.
Ben looked like a child, like a desperate, abused 5 year old needing comfort. He felt like he was watching a man break down, the mind desperately trying to form something from what was left. He couldn’t just leave him like this.
John stood next to him, picking Ben up and holding him. Ben clung to John, arms and legs tight around John’s neck and waist. Poor thing.
John rested one of his palms on the back of Ben’s head, the other wandering lightly up and down Ben’s spine. He brought Ben into the living room, placing him down on the couch. Ben looked up at him with big innocent eyes. When John sat down, Ben immediately crawled onto his lap and hugged him. John chucked softly-- the last time he had seen Ben, Ben was explaining the best way to torture someone for information. And now he was just this maladapted child needing a hug.
“God Ben... what happened to you...”
Ben didn’t answer, his face nuzzled into John’s shoulder.
He should call Juliet, or if not her then someone else with expertise in psychology. He didn’t know how to deal with this in the way that would be most beneficial to Ben. He could feel Ben suckling on his shirt and John carefully lifted Ben’s face to look at him. He looked so childlike, it broke John’s heart. He hugged him tightly, one hand going to the small of Ben’s back. He rocked him back and forth slowly.
“You’ve been through a lot baby, it’s okay to take a break and be little for a bit.”
He could feel Ben go limp in his arms.
“Shh... it’s okay, you’re okay, little thing.”
“Daddy...”
Daddy? John kissed Ben’s cheek, wondering if what Ben was experiencing was some kind of PTSD. He rubbed Ben’s back.
“What was that, Ben?”
“...daddy...”
John paused, knowing this was the turning point. He couldn’t just leave Ben like this.
“Daddy’s here...” John said softly. He watched as Ben’s face lit up with excitement and relief. Ben hugged him tightly.
“I finally found you.” He could feel tears against his shirt as Ben started to cry.
“It’s okay baby... I’m here...”
John rubbed Ben’s back. He seemed to have regressed to that of a child, needy and desperate for affection. He kissed the top of Ben’s hair. He should call Juliet. He didn’t know how to deal with this; to deal with a child.... Yet, in this moment, he knew he couldn’t let Ben go.
“Ben let’s move to the bed, I’m sure you’re sleepy.”
Ben sighed dramatically and John laughed.
“I’ll stay with you.”
John picked him up carefully, feeling arms around his neck.
He brought Ben to bed, smiling to himself as he saw that Ben had placed stuffed animals on the bed at some point.
John whispered softly into his ear, “Do you have a favorite stuffed animal, baby?”
“I like my teddy bear.”
“Yeah?” John laid Ben down on the bed, tucking him in and placing the teddy bear in Ben’s arms.
John sighed contentedly, lying down next to Ben.
“You should go to bed, honey.”
“Why?”
“Because I think the sleep would help you.”
“I don’t wanna.”
John pressed a kiss to Ben’s forehead.
“Do you wanna talk about what happened?”
“No.” Ben hid his face in the pillow.
“Okay. Just rest.”
“I love you.”
John paused. “I love you too, baby.”
He felt Ben cuddle against him.
Poor baby... poor little baby boy....
John held Ben against himself, rocking him to sleep.