#its longish and sad im sorry shelby

[teamgentlads]

MCGRIMM.

KAY

There wasn’t much that bothered Ben. He was known for being stubborn, true, but he was easily one of the more accepting faces around Shield. He smiled politely, he didn’t involve himself in things he thought weren’t his business, and he moved on. It was that simple, the only exceptions seemed to always pertain to the same few people. One of whom was trying to hold back his tears, offering strangled breaths as he closed the door to Ben’s dorm room.

“N-” Ben started, eyes stuck on the back of the other man’s head, but he never got to finish as Namor cut him off with words sounding so strained Ben had to look down and shut his eyes tight to save the heartbroken sound for some sick reason.

“I just lost her, Benjamin. I can not lose you now too.” Namor’s hand shook the door, still glued to it’s knob, knuckles going white from gripping too tightly. “I have to-“

“You can’t.” Ben knew what Namor was going to say before it even left his lips, so he stopped them to save them both from the poison they would leave when Ben said no after, rather than before. “The doctor’s can help, and if they can’t then…” Ben swallowed and he heard the door still, the poised man having released it to instead tremble in Ben’s direction. Vaguely Ben wondered if soon it would be him that Namor clung to for support, as he had throughout the weeks beforehand. “Then they can’t, and whatever happens can’t be stopped.”

Ben forced himself to look up at Namor’s face, regretting it instantly. It was desperate and scared, a face he always tried to chase away from his olive features before, now he was the one causing it to form. “I can find better doctors and I’ll pa-“

Ben’s steely look stopped him instantly, his mouth shutting as he swallowed sorrowfully, knowing the battle was long-since lost. Ben’s features softened, fading from the cold warning to hollow sadness. “I’m not your charity case, Namor. I didn’t call you here for that kind of help.”

Namor stepped forward, “But you did call for my help.” For some reason, Ben was reminded of how he would have taken that as an insult from anyone else in any other situation. He was proud he could handle himself, without anyone’s help. But now it was different. He didn’t need Namor’s help. He wanted it. And that was far stronger then needing it.

Ben’s mouth moved wordlessly for a few seconds, a feeling of helplessness that he hated began to set in down in the pit of his stomach. His voice cracked and he couldn’t bring himself to look back at Namor’s concerned features, those sad eyes. A whisper was all he could manage without crying. “I’m scared.”

Ben held Namor through the night almost every night the week prior, the younger man crying and mourning his mother’s sickness and then her passing. In that time, Namor seemed to pick up on a few tactics. How to cup the nape of Ben’s neck to bury his face to cry safely, not letting anyone else in the world see Ben’s pride crumble along with his resolve. Namor rubbed Ben’s back, humming to him and shushing him even though Namor himself was still shaking.

Namor’s hand wondered up to stroke Ben’s hair, and Ben, in the midst of his tears, wondered if he would have to go through chemotherapy and lose every sandy strand of hair. 

Ben, in the midst of clinging to Namor with his massive hands as fearful sobs shook them both, desperately hoped that Namor would hold him then, too.