Cho's open log for October (and September, if desired)

[tenuefarfalla]

WHO: Cho, with a few starters for specific people. Also open prompts for anyone else.
WHAT: meal prep/serving/clean-up, walking various random animals through the city, morning five mile runs, reflection on just how flipping weird life is now, and misc.
WHERE: all over, really
WHEN: I'm fine backdating anything into the month of September, as I kind of vanished, and also doing anything through October. Basically, it's a two month spanning open log.

NOTES: I can't stand writing in action spam (takes my head right out of the writing), but I don't mind reading it. (Just please don't use tiny text for your brackets.) So if you only write brackets, and don't mind our styles not matching, you can write brackets and I'll write prose and we can still have some awesome CR.


A - mess hall kitchen
Being a cafeteria cook on an alien planet had never been any part of her ten year plan, but life has a funny way of turning tables on you. Cho has had the rug pulled out from under her often enough to know that the only way to survive it is to adapt. In that regard, her family has done her a huge favour with their neglect and disregard. She knows how to adapt. It's not always easy, mind you, but she can do it.

Making food for her fellow displaced refugees, it gives her a very concrete and tangible purpose. People are hungry, she feeds them. It's simple. It's easy. It's also yielding far more immediate and gratifying results than her work in the fish hatchery and bio-lad with Annie and Finnick, which is incredibly slow going, getting the place even functional.

This work is also putting her in the path of new people. Even if it's only to greet them in the mornings and evenings and ask them which of the hot food selections they'd like. She's learning to put names to faces, and feeling accomplished and appreciated, and it's wonderful. Doubly so when someone offers their time to hep her out, and triply so when they don't just want to clean and chop and fetch and carry, but are interested in learning. She loves teaching. She misses it. And while cooking is a far cry from biology, it's still some form of wisdom that she can impart.

[[OOC: If you want to assume that your character and Cho have seen each other enough to know names and bare basics about one another, feel free. If you would like to assume that they've already been helping her with meal prep and stuff, also feel free to do that. Or have them meet for the first time. Whatever works.]]

B - walkways - exercising animals or running (mornings only)
Cho's various trips to the upper levels while the power was out and her subsequent experiments have not netted her much useful information. What she has ended up with is a menagerie of various random animals who have all become far too comfortable with the idea of being brought their food and kept safe from predators for her to ever feel anything but guilty about releasing them back into the upper levels.

So they are her responsibility now, and while some of them are perfectly content to just stay in their little makeshift enclosures, some of them get fed up with her room, and want space. Which she provides in the form of walks. She really wishes that she had a dog. It would at least be something vaguely normal. Instead, she can be found at random hours of the day with varying combinations of cat, hedgehogs, sugar glider, chinchilla, lizard, and quite a few random bits of fur and fluff that don't quite match up with anything she's used to. High energy, though, hence the excursions at random times of the day, when they seem particularly restless.

---

The animals are not the only ones that need exercising. This place wears and grates and it ends up driving Cho kind of nuts sometimes. She's made a promise to not wander off without a buddy, but that doesn't mean she can't go anywhere.

So, sometimes, there are on animals with her while she goes wandering around the walkways on the safe levels. Instead, it's just her and her earphones, her feet eating up the miles as she hurtles herself through the concrete maze that's becoming depressingly familiar. While she might prefer to work out her excess energy someplace a little more private, she won't break her word, and so her morning runs end up taking her back and forth along the residential walkway, as she racks up the miles by retracing her footsteps over and over again in front of the common areas. At least, this early in the morning, it's fairly deserted.

Of course, if she does ever come across someone doing the same thing, well, they would qualify as not going anywhere alone, and would open up a lot of the rest of Anchor as an option for her workouts.

C - spa
It's not a patch on the ocean, but having a functional and clean large body of water to swim in is still doing wonders for Cho's sense of well-being. Not to mention, getting her hair properly cleaned, and the occasional mani-pedi when she allows herself that much time. She favors the area that looks like a Japanese hot spring, doing a lot of floating silently in the large communal area, her hair fanning out around her, floating on the surface of the water like an oil slick. it almost feels like being home, which usually ends up with a tight prickling in her chest and a lump in her throat, but she fights through that. It's good to miss something. It's far better than having nothing you care about.

Most of the time, she's silent, and anyone else arriving might not notice her for a while. Especially if she's tucked herself away in some corner, sitting in water that's shallow enough for it, but deep enough to leave only her nose and above out of the water. She can definitely see the appeal of this place for fun and relaxation, but most of the time, she's either steaming herself in slightly too hot water for homesickness, or swimming laps with the setting as cold as it will go... not that lukewarm is particularly cold.

D - observation deck
The more random detritus from random worlds that shows up to populate the landscape, the more Cho finds herself inexplicably drawn to the observation decks that look out over the desert. She doesn't have a desire to go and see most of it up close, and not just because she'd be on her own in a dangerous place, but viewing it from this distance is strangely compelling.

So she does, settling herself on a bench, or on the floor with her back leaning against a bench, almost always with the animal carrier containing a cat and a giant caterpillar. Sometimes she lets them out to wander, though the most the caterpillar ever seems to do is hang from the edge of her seat, viewing the world from his strange upside down vantage point.

! WILDCARD

Wandering around in general, hanging out in her room, any other location or activity that you're interested in that I haven't talked about. Feel free to either come poke me to plan something, or to just go for it here and we'll make it work on the fly.

Comments

[benhargreeves]

For the second time in just a few minutes, Ben is caught off guard. He had expected the thing Cho wanted to talk about was her own feelings, her fear after what they'd gone through, how she is coping with it now. He'd already started arranging his thoughts for that, how he would reassure her, what he could offer in terms of advice or practical help to make things easier.

But he'd been wrong. The thing she wants to talk about is his powers. And... yes, that makes sense. It was what they'd been discussing, when he told her they should talk later. He just hadn't really expected her curiosity to continue. He'd somehow foolishly dismissed it as an immediate reaction to the panic, something that would fade and not return.

His eyes widen slightly during the barrage of questions, but he tells himself that at least this is better than her asking him then when he was exhausted and bloody and caught off guard. She's curious, and he probably owes her some answers. Especially if that curiosity has been plaguing her ever since. Perhaps this is the best way to help her cope.

Still it's hard to keep up. He stays completely quiet, waiting for her to finish. But as she keeps going, her words shift just from questions to something else. The reason she'd asked if he had breakfast. She wants to draw some of his blood. To... examine something about it. Test it or... whatever.

There's a sudden coldness in his limbs, a numb sort of tingling that had risen up out of nowhere. Should he have predicted this? What is the right thing to do? Talking to Cho is one thing, but her drawing his blood indicates a fascination with his powers that goes beyond just wanting to have a conversation. She wants to do tests. She wants to do science. She wants to figure it out.

Ben is quiet for a moment too long, swallowing. Then, to buy himself time, he starts to at the very least answer her questions.

"The thing is - the things is, I'm not sure if that's... their world. They're- dreams. Maybe they're just... nightmares, and I'm only imagining they are different. It's hard to... remember details like whether it was cold or whether there was gravity. They slip away once I wake up."

He sits back, crossing his arms. Tries to make the gesture look casual. It's nothing wrong that Cho's doing, after all. In a way he knows he should probably find her curiosity flattering. But he holds those arms tightly across his chest, trying hard to ignore the little rustlings of panic in his guts. That's uncalled for. If he refuses to acknowledge those bad feelings they're not happening - that's the rule.

"I don't know if it's not doing anything to my body or if the something it's doing is just - repaired once I close the portal. When I feel their emotions it's sort of... muted. Underneath. The pain, um." A hard swallow, then, and he looks away from Cho's curious face. "The pain definitely... isn't."

Ben knows he can't really stall any longer. He could say he was afraid of needles and buy himself time. But that wouldn't change her desire to investigate. And she seems so interested. What would it really hurt? Sure, he's uncomfortable with it. Sure, he wanted to run out the door the minute she said 'blood draw'. But Ben has had a lifetime's training ignoring and invalidating his own discomfort. He now associates ignoring those things with doing what's right so strongly that actually saying no is... well. Pretty unimaginable to him.

He doesn't speak, just stands up and takes off his leather jacket, folding it over his arm and then draping it over the back of the chair. He sits back down again, and pushes up the sleeve of his black hoodie. It's the arm with the umbrella tattoo by his wrist.

This is all fine. It's easy. It's no big deal. He holds out his bare arm to her, offering for her to go ahead.

[tenuefarfalla]

Cho nods thoughtfully through his explanations, letting him get all his thoughts in a row. He has her full and undivided attention. When he finishes talking, she’s in the process of aligning her own thoughts, and then he stands and begins to remove his jacket. Oh, goodie, blood. Which is an extremely biologist thought to have.

While Ben is peeling off his jacket, she retrieves and pulls on another pair of gloves. She does so with the same care she applies to the rest of her life, not letting the material pull too thin in any area in the process. She had a colleague at home who took perverse pleasure in snapping his gloves loudly onto his hands, seeming positively gleeful if he could make someone jump in the process. Cho has never particularly liked that approach. By the time he’s finished removing his clothing and rolling up his sleeve, she’s ready, with the smallest bore needle that will still be effective for a blood draw, and four empty vials to fit into the vacuum blood collection needle.

When Ben offers his arm, she takes it in careful hands. Elastic bands are useful, and they speed things up, but they’re also uncomfortable, and Cho likes to avoid using them if she can. Instead, she applies pressure with one of her thumbs to make his vein bulge enough that she’ll be able to get it with one stick. He seems… nervous? He must not like needles after all, and yet he's trusting her. As much as she hates the idea of causing him distress, that makes her feel good. She starts talking. "Human bodies are so amazing. Did you know that the components of your skin that allow you to feel pain and the ones that allow you to feel pressure are not actually the same thing? Ruffini’s endings and Pacinian corpuscles register pressure, and they’re extremely common, but there is a pretty big gap between the little clusters of free nerve endings that register pain. Relatively speaking, of course. So if you get, say, a paper cut, you’re definitely going to run over one. But for something like a needle, it’s actually possible to slip it in between the nerve endings so it doesn’t register pain." She’s been very gently applying pressure with the tip of the needle along his vein as she speaks, not breaking skin, just testing, and after one more poke, she sees the reaction she’s looking for. "So if you know how to see the micro-muscular response for pain, and you find a spot where it doesn’t register…"

Now she presses the needle into his flesh and into the vein, and as if by magic, though he should be able to feel the pressure, it shouldn’t actually hurt at all. It kind of is magic, as far as Cho is concerned. The magic of the nervous system. "Ruffini’s endings are also receptors for heat, but not for cold. Isn’t that interesting?" One vial has filled with blood, and she swaps it carefully for another, with practiced movements and steady hands, doing absolutely everything within her power to not jostle the needle at all and accidentally catch one of those free nerve endings she was talking about.

[benhargreeves]

It's all... familiar. Certain details are different - the color of the gloves, the smell of the lab itself, the person holding his elbow and poking at his arm to get a vein visible. Ben tells himself that this is a common enough experience for normal people. People go to doctors, they get their blood drawn. Most people wouldn't think twice about it.

In some ways it is a relief that Cho keeps up a steady stream of talk, because it means that Ben himself doesn't have to speak - he doesn't trust his own voice right now. The break from questions is good, and the things she's talking about are interesting, actually. Of course, with his head in the place that it's in right now, he's mostly wondering whether Grace had been programmed with the knowledge Cho is spouting. She never tried to hurt, when she was putting the needle in. She was always sweet-faced and steady-handed. But it hadn't been a whole process like this. Maybe Reginald hadn't programmed her with that because it would take too much time...

Ben swallows, watching as the vials fill with blood. Probably, Cho will be able to tell from the speed of it, or just from holding his arm, that his pulse is going quite fast, now. But he's keeping all other signs of unease tucked away. They never helped, and he'd learned from a very young age that if he was perfectly still, perfectly quiet, perfectly well-behaved even when his body was screaming at him in distress, that he would get a word of praise or two. Not from Reginald, of course. The best Ben could hope for from him was a lack of irritation.

But that hadn't ever stopped him from hoping it would happen. From thinking and imagining and convincing himself that his father appreciated how well he could cooperate when he put his mind to it.

He puts in a huge amount of effort, to get his dry voice to sound neutral when he says, quietly:

"Sorry... my answers are so vague. About the dreams."

Ben wants Cho to know that he's not being deliberately uncooperative. It's important that she knows that.

[tenuefarfalla]

Cho assumes that the elevated heart-rate is to do with nerves. No accounting for phobias. They hit people randomly and often have no real basis in logic. They just happen. No one's fault. "You have nothing to apologize for. A lot of people find it difficult to remember dreams." They're just going to have to figure out a way around that. Cho starts making a mental catalogue of what she has available to her. There's no way to record dreams, but there must be some way to boost retention...

When she's finished collecting blood, she applies a cotton ball over the needle site, and very very carefully withdraws it, smiling encouragingly at Ben. "There we go. All finished." She bends his arm so that the cotton is pinched in his elbow to keep the blood from flowing. "That wasn't so bad, right? You did really well. Actually-- hang on!" She scampers over to her bag, which is on a table far away from all the equipment, as she takes off and discards her gloves. When she returns her smile has grown, and she is holding out a closed fist with several lollipops clenched in it. They are all shaped like different fruits, and have the slightly mottled look of high quality organic candy. "Best part of going to the doctor, right? I never actually went to a normal doctor as a child, but every pediatrician I've ever seen on television has given out lollipops."

[benhargreeves]

It's so strange, the way Ben's mind is at war with itself. Some part of him, rational, steady, above the rising water-line of his emotions, can tell that Cho is being very patient and friendly, almost cutesy with him, as if he were a lot younger than he is. He doesn't mind, really; it's a little bit odd, being treated like that, but not unpleasant.

Then there is the other part of his mind that is beneath the water, that can't see or hear right through that haze of it. The part that curls in on itself in fear as she repeats, in such a cheerful voice, echoes of things he'd heard too many times before. Reginald, already turning away, saying crisply: We're finished now, Number Six. Done with him, and dismissing him from his presence. Or Grace, patting his cheek, smiling her bright too-wide smile and whispering That wasn't so bad, was it? when Ben submitted to whatever it was, that time.

Ben doesn't know himself well enough to see what is starting to happen and hit the brakes on this. He knows that he doesn't feel miserable. He doesn't feel much at all, apart from a sort of... hollow slowness. He takes one of those lollipops - a greenish one shaped vaguely like an apple - and says:

"I didn't, either."

Ben tucks the lollipop into the pouch of his hoodie, adds: "Thanks."

[tenuefarfalla]

"We had a really nice family doctor. I don't know if he had a normal practice. He lived in the city closest to our-- house. Still, he was always on call for us. It doesn't seem like it would have left him much time for anything else." Cho has taken a pop shaped like a strawberry for herself, tucking the others into her pocket and tearing off the wrapper so that she can enjoy a little hit of sugar. If Ben doesn't want his right now, she won't insist, but he should still eat. Cho will bring out the lunches in a minute. First she wants to get a proper bandage on his arm before she gets caught up in something else.

There's also still the problem of Ben not being able to remember his dreams. Cho smooths down the edges of the medical tape. "You know, We can't do anything about dreams, but we might be able to do something about your sleep? It's a pretty well accepted theory that if you wake up while still in the REM cycle, you'll have much better dream retention. Maybe we could use something from here to monitor your brain activity, and attach it to an alarm?"

[benhargreeves]

Ben hears that little hesitation before she says house, and he isn't in such a haze that he doesn't get it. Probably 'mansion' would fit better, Cho had made it clear her family were really high-status and rich. Or maybe it was a compound or something? Who knows.

He thinks about telling her about Grace. Swapping stories about their childhood doctors like normal people do. Klaus could make it an amusing anecdote, no doubt. Oh yes, didn't I mention our mother who was also a robot who was also the entirety of our medical care all our lives? But Ben doesn't have whatever it is in Klaus that makes it so he can just talk even when things are awful. That wonderful, beautiful resilience of his, that made it so he could survive so much and still find a quip to say. Right now, every word feels like an effort to dredge up. So he doesn't ask about this doctor who tended to her family or talk about his own past. He just nods.

Cho doesn't seem to mind his quietness, which is always such a relief for Ben, to meet people like that. He holds still as she bandages his arm, fingers idly moving over the medical tape after her hand moves away as she is talking more. About his sleep. Telling him you remember dreams better if you wake up during them. If she had paused, given him a minute, he might have said that usually, he woke up terrified from these dreams mid-way through, anyway.

But then she is talking about setting up something to monitor brain activity. Attaching things to him while he's asleep, set up to alarms, so she could find out more details from the dreams.

It's a reasonable suggestion. Nothing unethical or painful about it. It absolutely should not be a big deal. Ben's mouth is dry as he makes the sounds to say.

"Okay."

Agreeing to it, for the same reasons he'd agreed to the blood test. Because saying no is unimaginable, and he's sure she would ask why, and then he would have to lie or tell her things about his past that are depressing and gross and that she won't want to hear, and he doesn't want to bother her with any of that when it should all not be a big deal at all...

Ben had been idly smoothing that bandage with his palm, but now he is gripping at it, at his own elbow, hard enough his knuckles are white. Even though he had agreed, some of that hollowness he's been feeling this whole time had gotten into his voice. A little of that hauntedness had gotten into his eyes, and no matter how much he keeps telling himself it's not a problem, his body has decided it's time to disagree. Ben's pulse is racing now and his breaths come too fast, thin and small.

How old had he been when he first realized that electrodes and finding the right position to lie in not to get all tangled in wires was not a normal part of every child's bedtime ritual? Had one of his siblings told him or had he realized it on his own from reading books? Ben remembers the rare few times Reginald had come to get him all hooked up himself, instead of sending Grace or Pogo. How sometimes he had felt ready to burst, from what he saw as a sign of favor. How other times he felt confused shame, sure it was because he'd done something wrong and he was not being trusted.

Ben's control over hiding any external signs of his distress are slipping, badly. It's rather like a ball rolling downhill - once it's out of his grip, it all builds momentum at a startling rate.

[tenuefarfalla]

Cho is focused on tidying her space and marking his blood, getting the vials into a refrigeration unit after extracting a small amount from one to make a few slides and inject into a much smaller vial to spin in a centrifuge. So by the time she looks back to him, he's already gripping his own arm so hard that she's afraid he might break skin.

"Whoa, hey." Curiosity is suddenly doused by a flood of concern, a tidal wave, leaving everything in its path submerged and inaccessible. Cho closes the gap between them quickly, placing her small hands over the top of Ben's, attempting to curl her fingertips around him and lessen the pressure he's exerting on himself. Her face stays steady and reassuring and open, features full of understanding and concern, and an offer of acceptance. "It's all right. It doesn't involve any needles. The needles are gone. They're not coming back. It's just a little adhesive pad. Ben. Look at me. It's all right. You're all right. I'm right here. I won't let anything bad happen."

She means in the lab. She means that, in here, he is safe with her. The same way he can watch over her in a fight, she can watch over him in the pursuit of answers. "I know it can be scary, being in places like this," she says, not sure what exactly he's used to, what it is about doctors or hospitals or scientists frightens him. "But I'm right here, and I'll keep you safe."

[benhargreeves]

That strange numbness means it takes a moment for Ben to even feel the pressure of Cho's hand on his, but once he does he notices the tightness of his grip, how she is trying to gently urge him not to squeeze so hard. He lets go, hand falling limp into his lap. He can see he's scared her badly. That look of concern on her face is just like it had been the first time they met, when he had completely embarrassed himself just bursting into tears.

But self-consciousness and not wanting to seem like an emotional wreck aren't impulses strong enough to stop this momentum. His breaths only get quicker and louder and more unsteady as she reassures him, but not quite in the right direction. She thinks this is, relatively speaking, simple. That he hates needles and all she needs to do is explain the procedure.

The problem is that he knows the procedure. Probably better than she does at this point.

A part of Ben is tempted to get up and grab his jacket and just run out the door. Make his excuses later, perhaps by text. Keep his walls up and reveal nothing. But that would be cowardly, and cruel to Cho, who really hasn't done anything wrong and who is trying to be so kind. Ben thinks about the little things he knows about her - how she cares about people, how she worries about talking too much, how passionate she'd been in insisting that she would never hurt any of the animals in her care.

He feels caught, trapped, and the only way out is to talk. If only talking didn't feel like the most calamitous options to him right now.

"Places like this are where I grew up." His voice is so soft it's only just audible. "I'm not afraid of needles. I'm used to needles. I'm used to all of—"

Ben doesn't quite make it to the end of the sentence before his voice cracks and he lapses back into silence, hanging his head. Cho is standing so close and he can't bear to look at her. His head is aching and if he's not careful he's going to cry and he's already cried in front of her once and he cannot let that happen again. But there's no putting a stop to the trembling going through him. Stress chemicals or adrenaline or who even knows what is causing it. Cho would probably know if she took a sample of his blood.

He wants to say more. To explain he knows she wouldn't hurt him, that he trusts her, and that's the only reason he'd stayed this long in the first place. To tell her he's sure she doesn't let anything bad happen to people she's doing science on and this is not at all about her.

But something shifts in his chest and all he can do is gulp and gasp for air, and it never seems like it is enough. It's so stupid, why can't he just switch it off? He used to be so much better at forcing himself to switch it all off and sit patiently and quietly and do what he was told and be a model member of the Academy. So why can't he get over this stupid whatever when this perfectly sweet, harmless scientist lady is just trying to make him feel better?

[tenuefarfalla]

"It's all right. You're safe here. It's just the two of us. Just you and me." His hand drops to his lap, and she leaves one resting on his forearm, the quickest little flicker of a glance to check that he hasn't started the blood flowing again. "If we can't even out your breathing a little, you're going to make yourself very lightheaded. You might lose consciousness." She moves her free hand slowly, telegraphing her movements, and places her palm flat in the center of his chest. A contact point, a connection. She can feel his heart racing beneath her fingers. That's not good.

He has to calm down before he passes out. Cho knows from experience how disorienting that can be, and she doesn't want that for him. "No one here is going to hurt you." Though someone clearly has. No child should be so familiar with a lab space like this. The man who was his father, but not, who treated him like a curiosity. The man who should have protected him, not been the thing he needed protection against. "That's all far away. It's just us, you and I, and no one else can reach us." No one can perform experiments on him that he can't escape. "We're safe here, and every breath we take in, one two three, brings good clean air into our bodies, and every breath we exhale, one two three, carries away all our anxiety and our pain." As she counts to three she inhales loudly, and exhales just as loudly, as applicable. "We breathe in the positive energies of the universe, one two three, and we exhale the tension from our bodies, one two three."

Cho's own reasons for needing to know how to be mindful of her breathing to stave off a panic attack are incredibly different from what is happening to Ben right now, but she really hopes that the general theory is the same.

[benhargreeves]

Even though he saw it coming, Ben flinches a little when she sets her hand against his chest, but he does not move away. He knows she's right; he can feel his head swimming already. He's hyperventilated so much that he passed out, before. Mostly when he was very little, and not as good at managing his fear. Control yourself, Number Six. It had never been an issue all those years he was a ghost. All he'd had to do then was worry when it happened to Klaus, talk him through it, as well as he could. He can tell that is what Cho is doing, now.

Her words so help, piercing through the haze of fear that has no place here anymore. His father is dead and in another world and no one is keeping him here. He could walk out the door if he wanted, but he shouldn't have to, because Cho isn't going to hurt him. He knows that, even at the same time that every part of him is stuck in that remembered feeling of paralyzed helplessness. Ben screws his eyes shut tight, curling forward, pressing his forehead against his knees. It makes him feel safer, makes it easier to breathe along with Cho's words, instructing him, helping him through it.

Cho knows, now. He's past the point of no return; he's having a panic attack and he knows she can tell, that she's familiar with what that is. She must be, to know what to say and how to tell him to breathe and all the rest of it. So Ben... gives up. As soon as he's breathing slow enough that his head isn't spinning any longer, the tears start to fall. Cho might not see them, with how he is curled up, but she will be able to hear it, to see the awful way the sobs wrack through him. It's all so much more intense than he would have thought. The same way his reaction to those cameras was more intense - the same way even that his response to her on that first encounter was more intense than expected.

Ben doesn't get it. Has he gotten weak, in his old age? Or is it something to do with how completely he could avoid processing any of his bullshit as a ghost when he could always simply leave or fade away? Is it having a body again, now, in a place that's safe enough that he can start to actually deal with all of it?

Even as he's crying, he manages to choke out:

"Cho, I'm really really sorry, I didn't mean to — I wasn't gonna do this!"

He hates himself for this awful display, for all of it. And now that the words are coming, he wants to make sure she understands at the very least that this isn't him being afraid of her. That she's not responsible. Because that would make him a pretty shitty friend, if he let her think that. After all, she'd done nothing to him and he had acted like she was some monster, cowering like this.

"It's not you. I kn-know you're not gonna hurt me. I know you don't hurt the- the things you study. I just—"

But how could he finish that? What could he say, to make any of it make sense. He'd been monitored in his sleep a lot as a child and had his brainwaves and a dozen other things collected and recorded and analyzed as data by the same person who'd put him through some other, much more horrific experiments, so he could collect and record and analyze data?

(What would Reginald think about this data point? Ben Hargreeves, a broken mess, can't even get his blood drawn without spinning out? He would be so profoundly disappointed, and convinced that this was just Ben's weakness, his overemotionality and his inherent lack of anything good and worthwhile).

Sniffling wetly, Ben manages:

"I d-don't really - w-wanna do the sleep test. Can I- please. Not do it - after all?"

[tenuefarfalla]

"Hey, hey, you have nothing to apologize for," she assures him, not for the first time. She can't feel his heart under her hand any more, and instead is rubbing gentle and even circle against the center of his back. She's kept her other hand on his forearm, though, and while it's a little more difficult to feel so far from his wrist, she's still getting a general idea.

All she wants in the world right now is for him to calm down, to stop hurting. "You haven't done anything wrong." More than that. "There is nothing wrong with you. You're not going to make me angry, or upset me, or disappoint me. You're not a subject to study, Ben. You're my friend. I care about you. Even if you decide that you never want me to even mention anything to do with biology around you ever again, you are my friend. That isn't going to change. We're not doing the sleep test. It's all right. I'm never going to make you do anything that scares you. I'm never going to make you do anything you don't want to do, and I'm never going to be mad at you for changing your mind. If you'd changed your mind the moment before we did it, I still wouldn't be mad."

She keeps rubbing the circles against his back, occasionally pausing in that to stroke his hair, and between all of her actual words, she makes soothing murmuring sounds at the back of her throat. "Let it out. It's all right. You're safe here. This is a safe place. You don't have to keep it all bottled up inside you. Just let it all out."

She isn't going to hurt him. She doesn't hurt any creature under her care, though they've already been over that, and at least he believes her. Their first sticking point. He'd been so firm on that issue, just like her. He's got such a good heart.

[benhargreeves]

It hadn't even crossed his mind until she is speaking (reassuring him in that impassioned and systematic way) that there might not be any punishments - direct or indirect - for reacting like this. That she will still be his friend and still like him.

She says it like it's so simple and obvious, that she won't make him do anything that scares him. But to Ben, it isn't obvious at all. Since he'd walked through the door, it hadn't even occurred to him that he could just refuse, and she would allow that. That thought, and the reflection it casts on the assumptions that are impressed deep into his mind, is an awful one. Ben sobs harder, humiliated by how fucked up his own brain is, and embarrassed that he hadn't prevented this from happening, and heartbroken over how gently Cho is treating him.

He doesn't know why it hurts so much, to be treated with so much care. To be told all the worst things he'd been imagining might happen actually won't. Ben sobs himself out, for a few long and awful moments, and when he is finally subsiding into hiccupy gasps, he sits up again. He tries his best to wipe his face off with the cuff of his hoodie, but he's flushed and his cheeks are wet with tears. He sucks in a slow breath, through this shuddering aftershocks of sobs, and lets it out slowly, does that again a few times before he says:

"I'm sorry. I thought. I could handle it. But I was wrong."

Ben forces himself to look up, looking around at Cho, wanting to see her face, to check that there aren't any signs there that her words are empty - or that maybe she wants them to be true, but underneath, she despises him a little bit. But he sees no sign of disgust or impatience in her, and his faces crumples a little, in mingled sadness and relief.

He had overestimated himself, and it had led to this whole mess. Ben is going to need to do some serious rethinking about his own apparently fragile mental state. He can't keep doing this, just having meltdowns all over Cho. She doesn't deserve that.

[tenuefarfalla]

If Cho is at all upset about him having meltdowns all over her, there's not a single trace of it on her face. Also, spoiler alert: she's not upset by it. "There he is," she says with a smile when he sits up again and collects himself. Her handkerchief make a reappearance from her pocket, and she dabs at the moisture still clinging near his eyes. "You really don't have to apologize." Though, maybe it's not for her benefit? "I forgive you. Absolutely. Entirely. Completely. Even though there really is nothing to forgive. You haven't done anything wrong." He's a lovely sweet person who needs to think more about himself and his comfort. If he can't, though, or simply won't, then Cho will have to step up her game in that regard. She's fine with this.

The idea that he thinks he has to force himself to handle things for her benefit breaks her heart a little bit, but if she had to guess, she'd say it has very little to do with her. His adoptive father sounded awful, and raised his children as experiments rather than kids, and--

God. No. Their first sticking point. His assumption that anyone wanting animals for an experiment must want to hurt them, his relief when she'd blown up at him over it...

Her sadness flickers across her face as she makes a connection she wishes with every fiber of her being is not correct. "I'm not going to hurt you." She takes a little breath, a leap of faith, hoping that she's wrong about this, and that if she's wrong, it won't cause a rift between them. "And... I'm not ever going to ask you to hurt something else for my own curiosity."

[benhargreeves]

Ben tries to make himself believe what she's saying - that he doesn't have to keep apologizing, that he's done nothing worth apologizing for. He thinks she means those words, but that awful, twisting feeling of guilt in his guts won't go away. So Ben ignores it, tries hard to manage a tiny, grateful smile.

A smile that vanishes the moment Cho tells him she won't ever ask him to hurt anything for her curiosity. Ben's breath catches; he can see it in her face. She knows, somehow. He's sure of it. She's staring at him with so much sadness in her eyes, more than he'd ever seen there before. Cho had put two and two and two together: how nervous and quiet and strange he had gotten around the small animals they were capturing, how worried he'd been she was going to use them in an experiment that would hurt or kill them, what his powers are and how things must have gone if someone were to be doing experiments with their capabilities. When your abilities are tearing things to pieces, it's only logical you need something there to be the target.

Cho's dark eyes are sad and knowing and Ben drops his head forward, face crumpling with shame and misery before he hides it behind both of his hands. He had thought he was done with crying, but the sobs come back, and they're different this time - exhausted and noisy, because Ben can't even keep himself quiet anymore the way he had earlier. For the first time since he had come to this place, he wishes he were dead and a ghost again. Anything not to feel like this, to face this.

Ben has been trying, in tiny steps, to talk more, and more honestly, about Reginald since he came to this place. But never this. He had never planned on anyone knowing this. No one had ever known, aside from Klaus, and Cole, who always knows everyone's deepest darkest secrets the moment he meets them. Not Five, not Vanya, not anyone.

What must she think of him? Ben can't even remember the specifics of what Cho had said, when she was giving her impassioned speech about how animals didn't deserve to be tortured in the name of science. And now she realizes that Ben participated in that, that he really is a worse monster than she'd probably ever imagined.

He knows that any excuses he gives will sound pathetic and self-serving, but the pressure of shame inside him is threatening to swallow him up. Voice muffled by his hands, his whole body still curled in on itself miserably, he gasps out:

"I didn't- I didn't want to. He found out that- that it got harder for me t-to control my powers if I was hungry and so he would st-" Ben stumbles, sucks in a sharp breath, can't bring himself to say the word starve, "he wouldn't - let me have any f-food for as long as it took until I-"

She had seen his powers, when those zombies attacked them. She knew what he could do. He doesn't need to tell her for her to fill in the rest. Ben buries his hands in his hair, gripping it tightly, pulling until it hurt. All the excuses in the world don't make up for it. Nothing does.

[tenuefarfalla]

Oh no. No no no. That is entirely the wrong thing Cho had intended to convey. Well, not entirely. She's right about the reason that animals make him freeze up the way that they do. Not happy about being right, but she was right. The rest of it, though, that's not what she meant to say, not what she thinks, and certainly not what she wants Ben to think. She's not a professional, she has no training for this, and her only experience with trauma counseling has been in the role of the counseled. Still, she remembers it perfectly, what helped the most, what she needed to hear, and (possibly most importantly) the ways she'd blamed herself.

Even before that, the things she never shared, the things that she still would have kept hidden from every single soul in this place, if not for the fact that Cole can see right through you, she knows the things they whisper at the back of the mind. Cho has believed, possibly since her birth, that there is something monstrous inside her, that there must be if even her own family can just decide that they don't love her. Some part of her that is so ugly and broken that it must be hidden from the rest of the world, because when people catch a glimpse of it, she will lose them. This is Ben's. The way he looks is the way she felt when she realized that her best friend in the whole world could just turn off whatever affection for her he'd felt, once she was no longer entertaining, once he no longer had the free time for her. Cho has lived her life with the understanding that, when she no longer served her purpose, or when she stopped being entertaining, she would be discarded. That was the real life lesson instilled in her as a child by an unfeeling man who wanted to raise a perfect and obedient tool. He taught her that she is disposable.

She's too short. Not in a self-critiquing way. In a very real height differences are a pain in the rear way. She can't reach Ben. Not properly. She leaves for a moment, just a few steps away to pull over a storage container of empty test tubes. It's heavy duty molded plastic, and she knows already that it can take her slight weight. Standing on it lets her boost herself up onto the counter in front of him, wrap her arms around him, and pull him against her chest. "You were a child," she tells him, with as much weight and authority as her voice is capable of carrying. "Your only job was to learn about the world around you, and to be loved. He took advantage of you." She tries to keep him from pulling on his hair, from hurting himself. He's hurt enough over this, that's clear. It's the child in him she's trying to reach now, the scared little boy who just wants someone to love him, to be proud of him, to take care of him and make him feel safe. She shushes the tears, runs her fingers through his hair, not so subtly attempting to untwist the grip he has on it.

"You relied on him for everything, and he knew that, and he- he used that. He made you completely dependent, so he was your whole world, and then he set impossible standards for you to meet in order to be worthy of that place. He knew you'd give anything to make him proud, to hear him say that he loved you." Her voice is losing a little bit of its volume, getting a little bit thicker and quieter. Her childhood was nothing compared to his, she would never claim to understand what he had to go through, but she can understand the withholding of affection and praise as a tactic to train certain behaviours into children. It took her a long time to accept it, as an adult, but she knows now - it's called abuse. It doesn't leave a single scar, but it's abuse all the same. Ben had to deal with actual abuse, as well. He was starved and mistreated and only God knows what else by this horrible man without a shred of paternal affection in his entire body, and the true lasting horror, he was made to believe that it was his fault, that he was deficient in some way, and bringing it on himself.

She can hear Cole's words to her, from all those weeks ago, crystal clear in her mind as though he's just said them. She always can. They stay with her every moment of every day, give her hope, and strength, and a little bit of courage. "There is nothing wrong in you. There was something wrong in him. A monster wouldn't feel the way you do now, wouldn't be wracked with guilt and shame and remorse, even though none of it is yours to carry. You survived him. That's all you did. There's nothing you could have done to make him love you, because he-- he couldn't love. There was nothing you did wrong. He made you think that, because it made you work harder."

She shifts her hands from his hair to his face, holding both of his cheeks, trying to make him look at her. She knows she can't lie worth a damn with her eyes, they always give her away, and she wants him to see that she's not afraid of him. She knows what he can do, and his power would be terrifying in a less responsible person, but Ben does not frighten her. "I know what kind of person you are. You protect people who can't protect themselves. You forgive people their mistakes, no matter how many they make. You freeze around mice because you're afraid of hurting them accidentally." The last she says with a little smile. There are people without any powers who wouldn't be as careful as he is to not cause pain. She takes a breath, because this is emotionally exhausting, and she's not even sure it's working. She wishes she could take his pain away. He's so full of it, and he doesn't deserve it. She closes her eyes and her head tips forward until her forehead bumps against his. When did life get so very complicated? "I wish you could see what I see. I wish you could see how good you are." More than anything, she wishes she could find a way to stop doing this to him, to stop setting off these raw emotional minefields with her efforts, made with the best intentions, to make him feel better.

[benhargreeves]

Ben is helpless to resist the comfort that Cho offers. His hands loosen under her coaxing, and he lets go of his own hair, hesitating a moment or two before carefully, awkwardly returning the hug. He had imagined moments like this many times - what people would say or do if they found out some of the details about his training. But it had never been like this. He'd imagined disgust, rejection, accusation. Not reassurance and hugs. Not from anyone who wasn't Klaus.

He can hear it, in her voice, in the way she puts it. Cho isn't speaking theoretically.

"That... happened to you, too, didn't it?"

Not the specifics, obviously - but she'll know he doesn't mean that, because she hasn't got powers or any problem with labs. He means that her childhood wasn't a childhood, that she'd been molded, used, manipulated. Ben can just tell. He recognizes it in her understanding of him, her patience and sympathy. And he remembers little things she'd said about her family. Ben is sure there is much more, that she hadn't shared so readily. He is sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that she knows what it's like to try to make someone love her who was incapable of love.

But when she says he'd survived Reginald, Ben's breath catches, a hiccupy, jarring thing. He had forgotten, that Cho didn't know. Didn't realize that it's not true.

He doesn't say anything yet, though, because she is holding his face, and it's all he can do to make himself raise his eyes and look at her. The shame and self-disgust and self-loathing are still filling him up, but there's no repulsion in her face, none at all. He listens to her description of him with shuddering breaths. The person she is describing sounds so good, but that can't be him, because he isn't good. He knows he isn't, all the way down to his bones.

Ben wants to believe her. He shuts his eyes when she touches their foreheads together. Maybe he can try, just a little bit, to believe her. It's all too much, too complicated and vulnerable, but he gives a little nod that he knows she'll be able to feel, and manages a small, quavering:

"Okay."

It's not much, not at all compared to all of her kind words, but it's the best he can manage for now. A simple acknowledgement, that he heard her. That he will try to absorb her words. Then, fervently, he adds:

"Cho - thank you."

It's still nowhere near enough. How can he even begin to express his gratitude, for kindness like this? It's so foreign to him. He doesn't know how to accept it, how to process it.

Now that the worst of that torrent of emotions is done, he knows he should probably move away, give her space. But it's nice, with her forehead against his, and so he just... stays that way. Swallows and steadies his voice before he says:

"I, um. Didn't. Survive him."

Might as well get this conversation over with, because he can't possibly feel any worse than he did a few minutes ago, and Cho ought to know.

"I - forgot you didn't know. I... died. When I was sixteen. It was—" A long, long pause, before Ben manages: "It was his fault. And... I was a ghost after that, for fourteen years. But when I was brought here, I was just... alive again. I don't know how."

[tenuefarfalla]

When Ben asks if it happened to her, too, Cho just nods her head, a little hint of extra sadness in her eyes. She knows what it's like to be seen as less than family, as less than a whole person. She's made her peace with it, as much as she can - she's decided to be happy in spite of it, to be grateful for the good in her life rather than regretful over the bad in her life. "You're welcome," she whispers, just as content as he is to stay close, to have a little bit of physical comfort. Her grandfather's most effective discipline technique had always been the withholding of all physical affection, leaving Cho in a lonely void until she managed to unlock the secret of what he wanted from her and how he wanted it, the ever changing mystery of what would please him enough for him to allow her to see her brother, be hugged by her mother, the restrained pats on the top of her head that he used to dole out like they were as scarce as black opals and just as difficult to part with.

Then he drops his big news, and she freezes.

Cho's blood runs cold. It's an extremely unpleasant sensation. Her whole body feels leaden and foreign, the bottom dropping out of her stomach, her throat closing up. Her eyes begin to shine with un-shed tears, and her breathing turns shallow and heavy. They made him disposable, too, in a very literal way, and Cho's not sure she's ever felt more filled with rage in her entire short life.

"That-- asshole." There's not a single gentler word that she can use, that adequately expresses what she's feeling. She wants to tear him apart with her bare hands, and she's never even met him. She wants to grab him and shake him and scream at him, how could he not have realized what a gift it is to have someone as special as Ben vying for your love and acceptance? How could he not see what he was wasting? How could he do that to his children? He's dead, and she feels no regret for the loss of his life, and she doesn't like that she feels no regret, but there it is.

She wraps her arms around Ben, pulls him in tight, tucks his face against the side of her neck, and refuses to let go. She hugs him as tightly as she can, as though she can somehow reach back through the years if she's strong enough, and wipe away all that pain. If he wasn't already so close to the counter, she'd probably be in his lap. How amazing is it that he's been through so much, and still come out the other side of it such a kind and gentle person? What a miracle he is.

[benhargreeves]

Ben feels and sees Cho tense, when he says he'd died, and unease digs into him, prickling and awful. Is she afraid of him, now, finally? Had he said the wrong thing, and paid back all her kindness with terror? He can hear her breaths changing and his worry twists tighter. She is scared, isn't she?

But then he manages to look up and he sees that she's almost crying, that she is angry and sad for him, but not afraid of him. It's easier to speak, once she's hugging him again, hiding her face. Ben sucks in a long breath, still shuddery from tears. He's so grateful to her, for not asking how. For not probing for details. And - there's something a bit thrilling and good, hearing someone else call his dad an asshole. To have that glimpse of an outside perspective, and realize, that to a lot of people, to someone like Cho, the things he' done and allowed were beyond the pale.

"Yeah."

He heaves a shuddering sigh, hugging Cho back. In the wake of his panic attack and all those tears, he's feeling hollowed-out, numb, slow. But along with that exhaustion, honesty is somehow easier, and the words come more readily.

"I really am sorry I didn't mention it earlier. There's never really a good time to drop the whole... dying thing into a conversation. Sort of a mood killer."

There is so much more misery he could wallow in. Fucked-up as it is to say, Cho's only just scratched the surface. But he thinks she understands that, and he is worn out, emotionally. So he shuts his eyes, knowing it'll take his body a lot longer to really believe it is safe, to get over those horrible sobs that had torn out of him.

"But this, coming there? It's... my second chance. Because I didn't get out of that place alive. And there's so much I missed, because of it. I didn't... ever have any friends. Just my siblings, and it was. I mean, you know what I'm talking about. When you're in... when the situation's... abusive, things can be complicated. Between siblings."

He isn't sure if he's overstepping, implying a similarity between their families, calling hers abusive by extension, or at least comparable to an abusive family. But he remembers a little of what she's said about her brother, and, well. Ben's not sure it's all that wrong. But that hadn't been the point he was working towards.

"I'm glad... I get a second chance, to have a friend like you."

[tenuefarfalla]

"What were you supposed to say?" she asks him with a watery little chuckle. "Hi, my name is Ben. i used to be dead and I have an inter-dimensional pal behind my belly button. What do you do for fun?" She's a little sniffly, but she's not running, and she's not mad. She rubs her face against his hoodie, wiping her eyes. Not the most dignified thing ever. Sorry.

She smiles when he calls her his friend. Not that he can see it. "I know what you mean. It's not normal, any of it. My brother started out as my only real ally, and then I think... I think we were used against one another, as competition. I know they used me to make him feel bad about himself. I always hated that. I still hope that some day, when we're older, we'll find our way back to one another. Because there's always a chance, right? This is yours. I'm... I'm really happy to be part of it. I'm really glad that I met you, that I get to have a friend like you, too."

[benhargreeves]

Ben laughs, too, still hiccupy from sobs, but there's some actual amusement in it. And he doesn't bat an eye at her wiping her face on his hoodie. See, Cho, this is the advantage of always wearing black. Whether it's blood or tears or streaked make-up, it can take just about anything, and all he has to do is wash it. Stain-remover is for chumps.

"Maybe I should make a business card and just hand it out to new people? Save a lot of time that way."

He listens quietly, as Cho talks about her family using her brother against her, and vice-versa, for competition. And it sounds so very familiar. Number One and Number Two. Had that been an experiment, too, Ben wonders sometimes. Reginald trying to find out how completely he could destroy two children by pitting them against each other, one forever the inferior, the other the favorite, but with a sword of Damocles always dangling over his head, so he felt the need to fight not to be replaced?

If it was like that with Cho and her brother, it hasn't left an anger in her, the way it had to both Luther and Diego. At least not that Ben's ever seen.

"I'm sorry to hear your family did that to you both. Um. My dad actually did, too. With two of my brothers. And after he died they... well, they're not exactly best friends, yet, but they're trying. They're getting there. So I hope - you and your brother will be able to, too. You deserve it."

And if Cho's brother isn't willing to recognize how they'd been manipulated, to see Cho for the wonderful person she is, then fuck him, honestly. She deserves appreciation. Hopefully, someday, that can come from her biological family. But for now, Ben will do his part.

[tenuefarfalla]

"I hope so, too." Which is really all that needs to be said. Hope for the future. That's what keeps her going, that tender, fragile, shivering little green shoot of hope, unfurling in her heart, reaching for the sunlight. Oh man, it's been a really wild ride. She should be expecting it, really, when she sees Ben. They keep on having these very intense interactions, very revealing conversations, and someone always ends up crying. It's their theme, apparently. At least it hasn't started Ben avoiding her.

She pulls back far enough that she can wipe her eyes on the heel of her hand. Her mascara is waterproof, and her eyeliner is smudged, but it could be a lot worse. "May I ask you a question? And I know asking if I may ask a question is asking a question. I mean another question." When he gives her the nod, she continues. "What was his name? The man who... collected you all?" She can't keep calling him Ben's father, even in her own mind. He wasn't a father, no claim to them biologically or emotionally. Cho hates him, and Cho doesn't hate anyone. It's strange.

[benhargreeves]

That question surprises Ben - as does Cho's deliberate choice not to just call the man his father. It's not unprecedented, obviously. Klaus sometimes snottily makes a great point of calling him their adoptive father; Ben had always thought that the one Klaus was trying to convince most whenever he did that was himself. Even if they aren't related by blood, even if he had bought them, even if he was abusive and cold, he was still Ben's father.

But then, maybe Ben's lack of understanding why Cho wants to draw that distinction is because this was the only type of dad he'd ever known. Maybe it's something that makes sense to everyone else, just not him, because he's fucked up. There's no denying he's fucked up - he had had a complete fucking meltdown over a blood draw he could have easily said no to and the mention of a sleep test that he also easily could have said no to.

"Reginald. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, technically."

It feels so strange, calling him that. Ben had never picked up Klaus's habit of calling him Reggie out of spite. To Ben, he'd always just been Dad.

Ben rubs the back of his neck, a little unease creeping back into him, just a low-level hum. Because in spite of all that, some little impulse in the back of his mind had just kicked, like a reflex. Wanting him to tell her it wasn't all bad. To insist that really, it could have been worse... there are extenuating circumstances, such as Ben being an unnatural monster, and really when you think about it...

He doesn't want to acknowledge those rustling thoughts, so he says, with more than a little awkwardness:

"Since we're talking about names. Um. Another thing for the business card... my name's not. Really Ben. It's ... Number Six."

It seems worth mentioning, if only to perhaps avoid the possibility of another accidental catastrophe like the one that just happened. Ben can't get rid of all the landmines, but he can try to point out a few of them, at least. And the one benefit of this whole mess is that he isn't going to have to explain the implications of that, now. Cho knows that, to his dad, to Reginald, he wasn't a child, to be loved and protected. He was a number. And the idea that a number deserves to be treated ethically is absurd.

[tenuefarfalla]

The sir gives her a strange impulse to snort with laughter. She's known a few, very particular about not having the title left off their name. She's not super surprised by it.

What does surprise her - shock her, really - is the fact that Ben claims that he doesn't even really have his name. He has a number. That's-- she honestly doesn't even know what to do with that. The men in her family hadn't cared enough about her to get involved in naming her, but at least they'd handed the responsibility over to someone so that she would have a name.

She rolls this around in her mind for a while. She even takes a moment to use one corner of her handkerchief to clean up the areas underneath her eyes, no mirror required, until her smudged liner looks like something more intentional, like a heavy take on a smoky eye. She's very good at that, he's probably noticed, at keeping her appearance in check using muscle memory alone.

"Do you want to be Number Six? Or... do you want to be Ben?"

[benhargreeves]

Ben has noticed that. It's not quite at the level of a conscious realization, yet, but he's seen it more than a few times, now. How Cho always puts herself back together, like it's a reflex. There's something different about it, compared to how Ben will scrub the tears from his cheeks, or want to wash the blood from out of his hair. It doesn't seem to be entirely about internal experience, so much as keeping up appearances.

But he doesn't say anything, just... half-files it away in the back of his mind.

Her question is phrased in a way that almost makes it sound very existential, and if he would maybe try to make a joke about that, on a better day. But he hasn't got the energy or wits or resilience for it right now, after all that. Even though he's feeling better now, all that panic, all the intense emotions, have left him feeling wrung out.

So he answers directly, plainly.

"Ben's the only name I have that doesn't make me hate myself."

Number Six. The Horror. Even Hargreeves is fraught for him, though he tolerates it. Ben is the only one he had ever wanted to be. The only one he'd ever been called with even a shred of love in it.