Chapter 4: Tenderness
Max smiled to himself as he heard Gwen talk to her father as he drove the RV through the baking streets of Bellwood, the afternoon sun coming down hard on them. She was giving him the grand tour of the Rustbucket and all its wonders ("Yuck, Grandpa! Would it kill you to at least put the worms down before you put them in the fridge?") and regaling to him some of the nicer moments they'd shared there.
"So I roll right off of the couch, all the way to the kitchen! And Ben? Oh that little creep was just loving it-" Max's smile turned into a grin. He remembered that one. Small miracle she hadn't called down a firestorm on her cousin, or on the sheep.
They were on their way to Ben's house where Max would show of all of the holiday pictures to their parents in one go, give them the child-friendly version of their months on the road. At Gwen's suggestion, he'd picked them up in the RV for the trip so she could show them. However, with Gwen occupying her father, it left Max in the unenviable position of entertaining Natalie.
Now, let it never be said that he disliked his daughter-in-law. On the contrary, he found her an admirable woman of great intelligence. If they'd had her in the Plumbers, Vilgax would be dead and buried several times over. But as it was, Gwen's mother had a controlling disposition and had never been overly fond of the devil-may-care attitude that she thought was prevalent in her husband's side of the family. Ben was outright terrified of her, and perhaps most relevant to the here and now-
"Max," she started from the passenger's seat, opening the conversation on a casual note. "how is it that I barely recognize my daughter anymore?"
-selling her bullshit was nearly impossible. But he couldn't quite brush her off; his grandchildren needed him to get this right. Max put on his best roguish grin. "Well she did become a little taller I think, though that may have been me tripping on the crab meat, you know how these road-trips go-"
Ah, so that's where Gwen got her icy glares. But if Gwen's fierceness was hereditary, so was Ben's immunity to it; and he'd gotten that from his side of the family.
Natalie was silent for a moment before she, surprisingly, sighed sadly. "This is serious Max. Did something… happen?" She asked, glancing back her daughter. And now the hard part starts.
"Well, her cousin happened. Jury's still out on whether or not she needs therapy for that one." Natalie's glare returned tenfold and he shrugged."I don't know what to tell you Nat. We've been on the road for months together, might just be new habits that are shocking you. Or being home again is shocking her." He offered her his warmest smile. "You're the former psychologist here, list out the symptoms and tell me what you think."
She was silent again, considering him, before she began listing of her concerns. "She doesn't sleep." Natalie stated, staring thoughtfully out of the window. "At least, barely. She's moody, snaps at us every other instance, talks back to us," Max opened his mouth to suggest that she was just being child, perhaps an early onset of puberty; Gwen was always ahead of her age group like that, but she shot him down before he managed a sound.
"It's not just her being a brat, Max. She's… different. She's dropped next to all of the activity clubs she was in, she can't focus on anything. I'd call it depression if she didn't spend half the time talking on her phone, reaching out and being happy when she does. Or seeming happy, at least. But then I hear her crying in her room every night and then she just up and disappeared on us for hours yesterday. Impulsive behavior is a new one."
"I told you Nat, she just went to visit her old gramps. I called you to tell her she was fine-" Well, so long as you consider cleaning up a small instance of alien activity 'fine.'
"That's not the issue!" Natalie broke through loudly. Gwen and Frank looked up, shocked at the redhead's loss of composure. Frank, probably knowing full well what his wife was putting his poor father through, asked Gwen to show him the back and led her away. Gwen went along with him, but he knew there'd be questions later. When they were further out of earshot, Natalie continued, quietly.
"The issue is that she isn't usually this contrary, or angry, or sad. And those are just the most obvious aspects." Her eyes became distant again. "We were having lunch in the backyard when Gwen suddenly shot out of her chair, ruining a perfectly fine tablecloth with orange juice mind you, told us she wasn't hungry and ran to her room." She bit her lip, obviously distressed. "I haven't ever seen her that afraid, and I can't for the life of me figure out why. Next thing I know, she's running out the house to meet you."
Max had a fairly good idea of why Gwen had run from the garden, or who she'd been spending time on the phone with. But it wasn't his place to tell, the kids needed to do that on their own; him forcing the issue now would hurt them in the long run. Personally, he'd been delighted when they'd knocked on his door yesterday, ready to go out and kick butt, with Ben proudly displaying the tracking function of the phones. They'd looked tired, but happy.
"I wanted to test this out but, well, I..."
"The doofus installed a tracking device that gives results in coordinates, only to remember that he can't read them. World's greatest hero, everyone!"
"I should've grounded her for that stunt." Natalie's pained and annoyed voice snapped Max out of his reminiscences. Gotta stay focused here. The kids might have been fine around me, but clearly they weren't. Far from it.
"Why didn't you then?" He asked carefully.
"...she's scared, Max. All the time." The woman swallowed, and Max silently offered her his bottle of water, which she gratefully accepted. "You should've seen her anytime she goes outside. Its like she's walking into a battlefield. She doesn't sleep." The woman repeated, miserably. "And when she does there's the..."
"...Nightmares." Max finished for her. Natalie turned to him, eyes no longer distant or angry, but so sad and imploring that it broke his heart. Natalie had always been the smart one, and one heck of psychologist to boot before she laid down the job to take care of Gwen. She probably knew exactly what it was that Gwen was suffering from. He turned away under the pretext of focusing on the (nearly empty) road, but it really gave him time to reflect and choose his words. When they'd been on the road, he'd seen all of this, but it was so diminished that he'd hoped that even the shock of returning home would not break their strides. However, phone calls from Sandra and now the revelations provided by Natalie showed him how wrong he had been. His grandchildren were suffering, badly. Which makes what I must do even more important.
"She's been like this for a few weeks. I don't know what caused it!" He raised a hand to forestall the question forming on her lips. "And it wasn't nearly this bad while we were still traveling, so I didn't think much of it. I figured that perhaps she was sad that our trip was ending, or that she had a downer spell. But it seems..." He sighed and looked at her from the corner of his eye, considering.
"Natalie?" It took a moment for her to look up from worrying her lip between her teeth, but when she did he had her undivided attention. So much like Gwen. "I can't give you parenting advice. Frankly, I'm only a slightly better grandfather than I was a parent." He swallowed, the words tasting bitter on his tongue, even if he knew them to be true; especially now. "I wasn't there for my children growing up, and clearly I failed to be there for Gwen when she needed me." It was always easier to talk to Natalie when he didn't have to lie to her. "But, if you'll permit an old man his rant, I'm no stranger to people… suffering from their own mind. I can give you some advice, if only as a guideline. You have the skill-set to determine whether or not it's a good idea."
Gwen's mother obviously looked torn on the issue, knowing full well that he spoke the truth when he said he had failed Gwen but also knowing that he could help, as the person that probably knew her daughter best. It took a lot of faith for a mother to trust the man who failed her daughter, and Max's admiration for her increased when she gave it to him again for Gwen's sake.
"What would you suggest?" She asked, wearily. A brave woman, indeed. Gwen's lucky.
"Do nothing." He deadpanned.
The fury returned quickly. "I told you this is not a joke you senile-!"
"I'm not joking." Max cut her off in his best army commander voice. "I know this is hard for you Nat, trust me, it was hard for me too, but Gwen's stuck in her own head right now, and she's only going to come out if she feels safe. So that's what we gotta make her feel, no more, no less."
As they pulled up at Ben's house, he turned to her fully. "The best thing you can do for her is keep things normal, and to be there when she needs to talk. And-" And her he pointed at her to make his point. "And, you need to accept that maybe, she will not talk to you. This is not in your hands, but in hers."
Natalie obviously struggled with that, glaring balefully at him, before the anger drained out of her with a tired sigh. "The mother in me hates you right now, but the professional knows that you're essentially prescribing they exact treatment I would prescribe in this situation. But we need to do something, Max."
Max grinned at her, grabbing the photo album he had compiled. "And we will, in time. Come, we have a beautiful afternoon to enjoy Gwen's good mood. Let's not waste it in the car." As if on cue Gwen's laugh echoed through the RV.
Natalie snorted delicately but she smiled sardonically through it. "That'll last right up until she has to deal with Ben again. Nothing but complaints about that boy."
Max smirked. They were in for surprise.
Gwen stepped out of the RV, straightening her yellow summer dress and tugging on her matching sun hat, rolling her eyes to herself. Let my mom dress me once to cheer her up and of course she goes for the girliest thing I've got.
Not that it was all bad; it was a very warm day and this was definitely comfortable. She snickered to herself. Bet the doofus is sticky mess. Shaking off the instinct to go back into the RV, her eyes followed grandpa Max.
Grandpa walked up to the front door, which opened before he could knock. Ben shot out at him with a delighted cry, jumping up to wrap his arms around Max's neck, nearly knocking him over. Grandpa's laugh rang through the air while Ben's parents stood in the doorway, shaking their head but smiling at his antics none-the-less. She understood the feeling. They looked tired though; bags under both her uncle's and her aunt's eyes speakng of sleepless nights. That was worrying. When it looked like Ben wasn't going to let go of grandpa Max anytime soon, she decided to step up. She'd worry about her other relatives later.
"Hey doofus! Manners!" She called out, bringing attention to the rest of them.
It was interesting, how the second their eyes met the tension amongst the adults skyrocketed whilst she felt herself relax for the first time that day; how her instinct turned around from getting back into the RV to getting over to her cousin. When Ben jumped down and walked over to her, it occurred to her that they'd never talked about how they would act in front of their parents, who still expected them to hate each-other by all acounts. Hers certainly did. Before she could think on the matter more, Ben was before her. Wearing shorts and flip-flops of all things. Ugh.
"What is it dweeb? You jealous?" He asked unkindly. At least, that's how he sounded to the rest of them, she supposed. She saw the twinkle in his eyes and heard the hidden laugh in his voice.
She scoffed and crossed her arms, glaring. "Of grandpa getting a hug from you? No thank you, I'm good."
"Great, no way was I ever touching you anyway. I can already feel the dweeb cooties crawling over me." Ben visibly shuddered and it took all Gwen's willpower not to burst out laughing. Never touch her? If his tapping foot was anything to go by, he was struggling not to glomp her.
"Glad to hear it." She retorted.
"Glad that you're glad."
"Never been happier."
"Great."
"Perfect."
With every word they'd leaned closer and glared harder and all around them the adults were shifting nervously, not sure whether to intercede in their 'fight' or not. Ultimately, grandpa gave the game away when he burst out laughing.
Ben grinned sunnily at her. "I got the new Sumo Slammer comic! Wanna see it?"
She shrugged. "Sure, lead the way." Ben did just that, grabbing her by the wrist and leading her inside to go up to his room. She felt her heart rate speed up at the touch, but it was not at all the unpleasant, suffocating feeling she'd grown to expect, but a happy little feeling, like a bird taking flight. "Since when do you wear shorts?" She asked as she passed Carl and Sandra, smiling at them in greeting. They seemed flabbergasted.
"Since the mercury went this freaking high. Since when do you wear dresses?" He asked as he pulled her up the stairs.
Behind her there was stunned silence. And grandpa laughing his butt off of course.
"Okay," Sandra started as all the adults sat down around the table set up in the backyard, enjoying the coolness provided by the sunshade and the light breeze. That, and the drinks Carl had carried from the kitchen. "what did you do and how did you do it?"
Carl eyed his father curiously as he sat down. He'd been wondering the exact same thing.
Max smiled mysteriously, eyes twinkling. "My, whatever do you mean my dear Sandra?"
"You know what she means." Frank interjected, grinning. "They got along. They haven't done that in years. And seeing as we all agreed not to talk about the... other thing, it's as good a topic as any. Spill the beans, old man." Carl nodded along with his brother's statement. Part of him wanted to throw caution to the wind and drag his grandfather across the table to demand what the hell the watch on Ben's arm was and why there wasn't a damn lock on it to get it off-
But he'd already asked that over the phone, several times, and once in person, this week alone. His father didn't know; or at least he wasn't telling. After a lifetime of half-truths from the man, Carl honestly wasn't sure which anymore. Burying his missgivings, he decided to focus on the here and now. They all eyed the album that Max had brought.
They way Max's eyes lit up when they did told Carl that they'd walked into a trap.
"Well, alright. Let me tell you the tale of two insufferable brats on a road-trip with their wise grandfather!" Ignoring the answering groans, he flipped open the book.
"It started about as well as you'd expect."
Max took them through all the places they'd seen, flipping page after page of pictures of them across the country, and of course images of the travelers. It was in those that a clear progression soon became visible.
In the first few weeks of the trip, it was clear that the kids were not enjoying each other very much. Any picture of them together was forced and the casual shots usually didn't have them interacting at all… save the few where they were clearly fighting or laughing at the other's expense.
This changed over time though. More and more pictures came along of Ben and Gwen acting goofy, laughing, or being nice in general. The pictures of Joel and Camille's wedding were great too; seeing Ben dance with little Lucy gave him a kick. When Natalie asked where he'd even learned to dance, Max merely turned the page to show Ben dancing again, this time with Gwen, her head tossed back, laughing at some joke he had made. The implication was obvious.
"Ah, now this one has a bit of a story." Max began, as if though he hadn't been dramatically narrating throughout the page flipping. "We were in the forests up north and the radio decided to call it quit, as well as the signal on Gwen's laptop, so all of a sudden we were without music." Mock gasps of horror resounded around the table. Sandra even managed a fake tear for her 'poor little Ben.' Carl smiled to himself. Paper-thin it may be, seeing his wife have fun for the first time in a week made him happy.
"Fret not!" Max continued emphatically. "For rescue came swiftly: rescue being Ben kicking the bathroom door open and belting out 'You ain't nothin but a hound dog'." Max revealed a picture of Ben singing into an imaginary microphone, hair gelled up in a pompadour, Gwen crying with laughter on the edge of the picture. The adults snickered, even Natalie.
"Told ya, the kid's got a gift." Sandra teased the other woman. Natalie scoffed, but there was no heat in it.
"A gift for buffoonery, for sure." She remarked haughtily.
Before they could really get going, his father intervened, again with that devilish twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, Ben's not the only one."
Natalie looked at his father in horror. "She didn't!" The mother protested.
Max flipped the page to reveal a larger picture of Gwen up on the RV's table, rocking an air guitar with her hair up in a lush red mo-hawk, sticking her tongue out at the camera. Ben was kneeling on the couch beside her, still singing into his imaginary microphone, striking a flamboyant pose as well.
Natalie fell back into her seat with a facepalm while the rest laughed. "The brat's turned my daughter into a hooligan." She griped, to Carl's amusement. Max protested avidly.
"On the contrary, it was the best rendition of 'living on a prayer' I've ever heard, even if Ben did change the lyrics to 'Lincoln on a bear'. Kid's got talent."
The next few pictures were of Gwen and Ben goofing around with the gel, and one of all three with their hair in the oddest styles they could think of. Ben in particular seemed to enjoy playing with Gwen's hair.
Carl snorted. "If we're not careful, kid's going to have a thing for redheads." His brother laughed.
"Don't even joke about it man, they'll drive him crazy." At Natalie's glare he hastily added "In the best of ways!"
Sandra mimed a whipping motion to Carl and he suppressed a snicker. Guess I won't have to ask who's wearing the pants in that relationship.
"So that's it?" Sandra asked, happy. "They're finally getting along?"
"Eh, most of the time. It really depends on-"
"BENJAMIN KIRBY TENNYSON!"
"-the day."
The only warning they got was footsteps on the stairs before Ben shot past them in a blur, Gwen hot on his heels, a bright red smiley drawn on her right cheek in a clumsy fashion. Into the garden they went, running around for a few seconds before Gwen tackled him down with a flying kick and put him in a choke-hold with her legs.
"I'm going to shove the permanent markers so deep up your butt that you're going to need a colonoscopy and a visit to the dentist when they come out on the other end, doofus!" She yelled.
"Joke's on you!" Ben wheezed, struggling to dislodge his head from her lock. "I gotta visit the- pant – dentist anyway!"
"Is that to fix your – hrngh - Cavity?"
"That's… the… one." Gwen was turning slightly purple from the strain, but he did manage to loose her hold enough to breathe again.
"Call me to tell me how it went!" Gwen remarked before clamping down again, to Ben's pained dismay.
The adults beheld all this with varying degrees of bemusement, not sure to be worried or not. Carl was the first to vocalize their shared experience.
"Dad?"
Max grunted in acknowledgment, stifling another bout of laughter.
"I'm more confused than a homeless person under house arrest." The younger man remarked before standing up and calling over to the (play?) fighting children. "Need help there, little man?"
"No worries pa! I'm wearing her down!" Ben proclaimed with a thumbs up, the movement clumsy due to his predicament and the fact that that cursed (bandaged) watch weighed down his arm. Said arm was grabbed by Gwen in response to his confidence.
"Oh, then you won't mind me upping the pressure, right?" She asked sweetly before she turned the headlock into an arm-wrench.
"Don't you dare- OW! You mother-"
"Language!" She chided, glaring daggers.
"...puncher?" Ben finished weakly, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Oy!" Sandra spoke up. "I take issue with that train of thought young man!"
The fight went on for one long second more before the tension drained out of the children and Gwen loosened her hold. Rather than jump apart they lay there, catching their breath.
"Well," Frank remarked into the ensuing silence, pushing his glasses up his nose as Carl returned to his seat. "It's hardly perfect, but if this is as good as it gets, I'll take it."
Max smiled that blasted mysterious smile again. "It gets better." With that he flipped to the last few pages of the book and just held them out, letting the pictures speak for themselves.
They were much the same in terms of subject. Places, people, and Ben and Gwen just hanging out, with Max occasionally featuring. But the differences were obvious. Whereas earlier pictures of them had depicted them as distant, and the later ones as friendly, these spoke of actual closeness. Whether it was a picture of them at the mall, at a famous landmark or just relaxing in the Rustbucket, they seemed to always be touching. But he also noticed that that tiredness that he'd seen in Ben the last few days had appeared, where before he had seemed right as rain. Frank and Natalie seemed similarly entranced, as Frank pulled the book over and flipped the page.
Max had obviously saved the best for last. These pages had just two pictures between them. The first was Gwen reading on the RV's backbench. Or she would have been, had she not put her book aside to to smile down at the little boy who had decided to use her lap to rest his head. Ben's eyes were tired, nearly shut, seeming to drift off as Gwen stroked a hand through his hair.
The second picture was, if possible, even worse. At a glance, it just looked like Gwen sleeping in her bunk. Adorable in and of itself, he was about to tell his brother when the other shoe dropped; that shoe being Ben, bundled so tightly in there with her that he was nigh indistinguishable from Gwen. His face was buried in her collar area, with Gwen resting her face in his shaggy hair. The shapes beneath the covers suggested quite clearly that they were tangled quite snuggly.
"These are my favorites." Max remarked into the silence. Carl could see why. Sweet as the pictures were in general, what really got to him was their faces. Gwen's face was lit by a warm smile in the first picture. Not a sardonic one, not a cheeky one, but a genuine warm on the likes of which Carl could not recall having seen on her face in years. Ben's tired gaze was similar, radiating a comfort and trust that he'd never had, not even with his parents. The trust and closeness that the second picture conveyed spoke for itself.
Carl turned first to the other adults at the table, and then as one they glanced back to the kids. They were still lounging in the grass, Ben's head resting on Gwen's upper leg while her other leg remained draped over his chest and Ben's left arm drawn out over the girl's abdomen to where his hand rested on her chest. She was playing with the bandages on Ben's wrist absently. With the pictures in the back of his mind, Carl's eyes now snapped to all the places where they were tangled up and the way they relaxed; Ben hadn't looked this peaceful since he came back-
No, that was wrong too. He hadn't looked this peaceful ever. Beside him, he heard Frank mutter "'Dweeb cooties' my ass, cheeky little brat."
The moment was broken when Gwen untangled one of the bandages and traced her fingers over the scabs of the scratches. She shot up and fixed Ben with a horrified glare. Ben himself sat up slower and looked to the grass guiltily as she unwrapped all the rest of the bandages. Carl closed his eyes, already knowing that her actions revealed an inordinate amount of scratches, some from his first day home, others from yesterday when he'd relapsed. He heard Natalie's sharp in-take of breath. He opened his eyes to see his sister-in-law glare venomously at his father, who seemed... shocked. They'd told him about Ben's episodes (well, yelled at him), but clearly seeing the boy's hurts for real drove the point home. Gwen's reaction was strangely subdued.
No words were exchanged between the children. No questions asked. All she did was lean in to place her forehead against his, both of their eyes closed. Something passed between them, Carl could tell, but the moment was gone as soon as it began, and Gwen stood, holding out her hand to Ben. He took it, and she led him over to the house.
"We're going to change the bandages." She informed the adults curtly before disappearing into the darkness of their home.
They were barely out of earshot before Sandra turned to Natalie with a question. "Can Gwen sleep over?" Yes please. He thought. Anything to make Ben stop doing… whatever it is he's doing. It didn't bear thinking off, and attempts to open Ben up had proven completely fruitless. But Gwen seemed to help him. Now they just had to get the suggestion past Natalie...
The redhead in question was silent for a moment, lost in thought, glancing at the pictures still on display. Then she looked Max directly in the eye. "If this backfires, they're going to be in a heap of trouble. And as soon as they're stable enough to do without you, you are going to be. Understood?"
Max smiled in the face of her assertion, but spoke not. He waited, patiently. Natalie picked up her glass of iced tea and raised it to Max. "'Find out what makes her feel safe'; well played, you old badger." She praised before turning to Sandra. Carl saw the understanding in her eyes and started to think that Ben had not been the only one acting… odd.
"Yes, she can, so long as her grades stay good." The redhead told the blonde. Carl couldn't recall the last time Sandra had been happy enough to actually hug Natalie, but as Frank said earlier: if this was as good as it got, he'd take it.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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