For years, Ben was adamant that his wife and son were real. Not figments of his imagination. He even left his remaining family behind at the suggestion.
Somewhere along the line though, Ben began to doubt himself. He wasn't sure when it happened but it did. He still swore up and down that they were real, still remembered every detail he could. But there was the ever present tiny little voice in the back of his mind that said, "They aren't real. Give it up. Go home. Your family misses you."
It wasn't surprising, really, that the voice sounded like Paul.
He loved his wife and son, whether or not they were real. But he could never admit to himself that there was the chance they could be imaginary.
In twenty years I will be 49.
In the past, I would have said "I'll be with my beautiful wife, living in our home. Our son will be in college. We might even have more kids, in high school or even younger."
Now though? I'll be lucky to be alive still. And if I am alive, I'll probably be at death's door.
For every hunter I meet that is 50 and looks 30? I meet about ten hunters who are 40 and look about 60. The job is hard. It can and will be the death of some people.
"What? What's wrong?" He asked, fully awake now. "You okay?" He asked as she grimaced. "Nan?"
"I'm having contractions." The words weren't clicking in his head. Contractions. Contractions?
"Contractions, Ben. Grab your baseball mit. It's time." The words didn't click; they went off like an atomic bomb.
"You're...no way!" She nodded frantically. "But...You've still got a month! At least!"
"Well, our baby doesn't want to wait a month. I've been timing 'em. They're about fifteen minutes apart still. We need to go in."
Ben kicked his blankets off and fumbled out of bed. He hurried and got dressed at Anna behest. "I'm going to be put into a hospital gown anyway. I can stay in my pajamas, you can't."
They were making good time, getting to the hospital. Until, that is, they hit about the halway mark. Anna suddenly howled in pain and grabbed Ben's arm so tight he was sure his skin was going to break. The car swerved slightly as she tugged on his arm, but it was 2:30 in the morning. The only car in sight was a good three blocks ahead.
"Uh...it..." Anna broke off to moan and pound on the window in pain. "They're coming sooner, right? I'm not imagining?"
"I think so, yeah." He looked at the clock. Five minutes later she was growling through another contraction and they were still probably ten blocks away. "Just...a little further." He begged, speeding up to run the yellow light coming up.
By the time he pulled into the ER parking lot, her contractions were less than five minutes apart and she couldn't walk. They had to bring her a wheelchair just to get her into the building. Once they hit the birthing floor, she was rushed off to a room while he was detained to scribble out info onto a form. Then the nurse rushed him off to pull scrubs on over his clothes and into the room where Anna was screaming and cussing and red in the face.
She had a few choice words for Ben and the mess he got her into, the stupid man that he was. She held onto his hand and squeezed.
And just as suddenly as it started, the baby was being held up to proclamations of, "Here he is. Here's your boy. He's beautiful. Healthy set of lungs. Good color." And Anna was crying hysterically, practically twitching with the need to hold him.
For a moment, the sight of Anna holding little Tyler James Mason was just a big watery blur and then Ben blinked a bit and they were clear. He leaned down to kiss Anna on the top of her sweaty head and brush his fingers across Tyler's soft cheek.
"Can we not do this at 3 in the morning, next time?" He asked wearily, his adrenaline having worn away. Anna mmm-ed in response, her eyes half closed, her fingers brushing across Tyler's face.
Character: Ben Mason
Fandom: Supernatural/Heroes (interchangeable)
How are you? Every day I feel a little more hopeless, like maybe I really did just make up a wife and son for the past several years.
How're things? I haven't had a conversation with my parents or brother that didn't end in an argument in three years. I'm beginning to think I should let them send me to a shrink. I have a high chance of dying every time I go to do my new 'job'. For the first time in three years I have been around the same people for more than a week and that's probably the only good thing to happen lately, other than the not dying part of my job that only I just seem to manage.
It just doesn't flow as well as "I'm fine." or "It's okay."