Chapter Text
"Alright everyone, remember what you're preparing for. I want all of you to come back from break and feel confident and ready for this concert. This means practice, practice, and when you think you're ready, practice again."
He stopped lecturing for a moment as his students half-listened absently, distracted by the clock telling them they had less than an hour until they were "free" - in their words- from school for a two-week-long spring break. Unfortunately, he had some news that would cast a dark shadow on their plans of a fun, stress-free break.
"And... make sure you study for your exams happening the first week of your return."
Groans echoed through the room as the bell signaling the end of class reflected them. He smirked lightly as he got many annoyed, yet light-hearted looks from the large class shuffling out of the room in groups. As they left, he heard them noisily discussing their plans for the time they had off. David Parker shook his head in mild amusement as he heard the plans range from relaxing at home with a book to the annual spring house parties hosted by the wealthier students, typically accompanied by drinks and people their parents wouldn't approve of.
He's always loved being a teacher. Since he taught his first seminar in university, he knew educating was what he was made for. To him, the best and most important part of the job was the connection you made with your students, and the impact you leave on them once they leave. As a music and fine arts teacher of 20 years, he always felt proud of the art his seniors went on to create after graduation, and they lives they built years later. As many of his students viewed him as a sort of mentorial, or father-like figure, it wasn't uncommon for them to visit after they leave Stone Mountain High. He looked forward to the random days former students, usually in groups, would surprise stop by his classroom and chat with him about their time as his scholar. David always felt proud and accomplished that the kids he taught viewed his as a safe and trustworthy person to rely on if they so need. And, if they viewed him like a friend, or even father, so be it.
He always tried his hardest to make sure every student, his or not, was treated equally and fairly. Despite this, he was aware that some students needed more attention, or reassurance than others. Some kids hated being watched over too closely, while others seemed to never want to leave his class. He made sure to treat every student not how they wanted, but how they needed to be treated. David always hoped himself and his classroom would be seen as a safe space and judgement free zone for everyone. He has delt with many different problems his kids had, from trouble with homework to trouble at home, and every time he somehow always knew the right things to say and do to make them feel better. However, not every student always wanted to tell him when they were struggling.
David looked across the room at one extremely timid student in particular. He watched as the lanky student secured his violin into his band locker and stacked his books into a neat pile he could easily carry to his next class. The boy remained silent as he stacked Camus atop Nietzsche and picked up the large stack of non-required reading, headed for the classroom doors. David sighed and decided there was no time better than now to speak up, as he had a terrible familiar feeling in his stomach that he would regret it heavily if he didn't.
"Benjamin?" He started, stopping the boy in his tracks, "Please, come here for a moment."
Benjamin quickly arrived by his teacher, intentionally refusing to meet his eyes. David stood up from his seat, walking to lean against the front of his desk. He crossed his arms and observed his student for a minute, before starting, "How're you doing this term, Ben?".
Ben was quiet in his response, only answering back with a small "Fine", while seemingly staring daggers at the band room floor.
David didn't say anything back to this at first, staying silent to take in the full demeanor of the teenager. Physically, Ben didn't look much different recently than he always has, or at least as long as David had known him. Despite his familiar appearance, something about his geste lately has changed, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. Some of his coworkers, even the seemingly careless and cold ones, have expressed concern for the boy lately. They shared worries over the way he startled easier and talked less in class, never speaking if not spoken to first, even avoiding simple conversation with friends. Although Ben had always been a nervous and quiet kid, it was clear something had switched in him recently, and the staff was worried something had happened.
David himself was probably the most concerned of all. He hadn't known Ben for long, the boy only starting his class this semester, but the change in his attitude worried the teacher greatly. He knew people, especially teenagers, didn't suddenly stop speaking to their friends, peers, and professors out of nowhere. There had to be a reason, in David's experience there always was.
"Really? It's the last semester of your high school career." David stated, ignoring the look on his student's face that clearly said, 'you think I don't know that?', and stood up straight, "Exams, essays, projects, admissions, all to be done before you start university. It's a lot to handle for anyone, most of your peers are in shambles right now, I wouldn't expect you not to be too."
Ben looked up at him but didn't, or couldn't, quite meet his eyes, yet David could still see the sense of daze and disorder they held. Ben returned his gaze to the tiled floor before he spoke.
"Yeah, uhm, I guess it's stressful." He laughed nervously, while continuing "but it'll be fine once the school year's over. Just gotta' get into university."
Although he spoke normal, David could feel the worry and tension in the boy's demeanor. He thought for a moment, choosing his next words carefully.
"Normally, yes," he said, rather quietly, "if your only troubles were finishing high school and getting into a good college, then I suppose completing those goals would lessen your stress. However, kid, I have a feeling school isn't all you've been stressed about, am I correct?"
Unsurprisingly, Ben met his eyes for the first time at this.
For a moment, he just stared, seemingly lost in anxiety-riddled thought. He couldn't bring himself to words, but despite his silence, his face spoke for him, resembling that of someone who had just been called out for something they thought they'd hidden well. For the next minute the only sounds to fill the room were Ben's stuttering and noises of denial, before David sighed and crossed his arms, leaning again against his desk.
"Benjamin, I hope you know you can rely on the faculty when something is wrong. We've noticed something has been bothering you, and you don't have to keep it to yourself. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
There was no answer from the boy as David heard a knock at his open door. He looked up to see a small group of girls all standing by the classroom entrance and holding sheets of music notes.
"Mr. Parker? We're struggling with this assignment and were hoping you could help us?"
He looked at the girls and, despite how much he wanted to, decided not to push the issue with Ben. He wouldn't be letting it go permanently, but he could let the kid think over break before prying. He let out a sigh and signaled to the group to enter, before whispering to Ben, "please remember kid, if you decide you need to talk, my door is always open." And with that, Ben nodded quickly and darted out of the room, on the way to his final class of the day. David watched him go, debating if he would tell his coworkers about this interaction.
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"Ben?"
A small voice broke Ben out of his thoughts. He -barely- looked up from his spot on the floor to see Clementine, or Clem, as the group called her. Kids, or really anyone younger than him, always made him feel uneasy. The only person younger than him that he ever really talked to was his little sister, Kaitlynn. But, in the few weeks he has been with the group, Clementine was one of the only ones who had been kind to him, so Ben still spoke to her sometimes.
"Hey, Clementine, what's up?"
"Do you wanna' play with chalk with me? I only have pink, and Duck said it's too girly."
Ben perked up. Chalk? It's been too long since he was able to draw anything. He felt himself nodding subconsciously and let himself be led to the floor by the RV, trying to ignore the black-haired woman glaring at him. He sat and accepted the pink stick Clementine put in his hand. He felt a small smile on his face as he had the chance to draw something. He had to think for a minute, what was he going to draw?
He hummed quietly to himself as he outlined what resembled a 'T' shape, unbothered and unthinking as he drew. The late spring breeze rustled his clothes, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for this fleeting moment of coolness; he knew it would be one of the last moments of it before the warm summer heat of Georgia rolled in like always. Ben felt unusually calm, calmer than he had been in a while, even before the outbreak. That was, at least, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to thankfully see one of the only other kind people here.
"Hey, Lee"
"Hey kid, whatcha' drawing?" Lee motioned to his chalk drawing on the pavement. Ben looked down, truly taking in his drawing for the first time since he started. a pink pigment quickly overtook his face as he used his sleeve to wipe away the picture.
"Oh, uhm, it's nothing, just...Nothing"
Ben held the pendent around his neck tightly as he stood up to level with Lee. The older man looked at him suspiciously but seemed to brush it off quickly as he spoke again.
"You look worried, what's on your mind?"
This confused him, he looked worried? That wasn't surprising, he was always worried, but he didn't realize Lee would notice, or rather care. He stuttered and stared at the man for a moment, he didn't know what to say. How could he tell Lee what was wrong?
Ben was walking in the woods close to the motel. Being outside of the protected, gated area scared him, but he couldn't stand to be surrounded by people for a second longer; he needed to clear his head. He had the gun Lee gave him secure in the side on his jeans, sure he didn't really know how to use it, but if worst came to worst he would at least have something to protect himself.
As the voices of the motel got quieter, so did his nerves, and he felt himself calm slightly. For a moment, the only sounds around him were his light breathing, the crunching of sticks under him, and the distant sounds of birds in the distance. It made him wonder, how many animals survived the outbreak? He hasn't seen any, besides birds, since everything happened, and the world seemed relatively dull without them.
Just as he thought that, however, he walked past a large oak tree to see something moving in the far grass. He felt his blood run cold. He thought that if he saw a walker, he could just shoot them and flee, but now that it was real, he couldn't move. His hands didn't reach instinctively for the gun by his side, and his feet didn't try to run either. He felt frozen in place.
Jesus Christ, he was stupid. Why would he go out alone? He should have known he wouldn't be brave enough to fight anything, let alone a walker. Was he going to die?
Before he could think about his death further, he heard rustling coming from the grass, and a small deer ran out towards him, stopping a few feet away.
Staring at the creature before him, he felt even stupider than before. He felt movement come back to him slowly and he stood up straighter as his brain realized there was no immediate threat. The setting sun before him told him he should be heading back to the motel soon, but something captivated him. The deer before him stared back, tilting its head in what seemed to be confusion. They looked young and probably hadn't seen a human in a long time, if ever. The creature was noticeably shorter than Ben himself, so after he looked around to confirm there was no danger around, he knelt to meet the height of the fawn.
Always being told not to touch wild animals, he kept a short distance between them but kept his gaze. Ben didn't look away from the deer once after that. Noticing the rounded shape of their head, he deduced that the fawn was a young doe. Her age exactly, he couldn't tell, but she was young enough to still be followed by her mother; that is, if she was still alive.
Ben looked into the deep brown eyes of the doe. He knew he shouldn't, but something compelled him to reach out and attempt to touch her ears. For a second, he was close, until he heard noises behind him. It seemed she did too, as she backed away slightly. Hoping it was just another animal, Ben turned his attention back to the doe in front of him. He reached out once again, but the noises getting louder behind him startled her, and he fell forwards onto his hands and knees into the grass and sticks below him. Looking up from the grass below him, he saw the deer look back at him, then run back to the tall grass from which she came.
"Fuck", Ben whispered to himself, siting up on his knees and wiping the dirt off his hands and arms. Attempting to stand again, he steadied himself on the large tree next to him. His feet firmly planted, he stared at the setting sun again. Breathing deeply, he turned around and tried to begin his way back to the motel, before feeling himself be pushed back into the oak wood beside him.
Rough, heavy hands covered his mouth and wrapped around his neck, while something held back his hands. Ben tried to protest but felt the air leaving him as the hand around his throat gripped tighter. He looked around, desperately trying to see the person in front of him, but the fleeting sun light obstructed his vision. Looking down, he tried to remove his hands from whatever was holding them together, only to see a second pair of hands tightening a thick rope around his wrists. He shook and writhed around as the hands holding his wrists moved to hold his sides down.
A deep voice came from the one holding his throat, "Will you stop fuckin' moving?", but in his panic Ben didn't hear anything he was saying.
"Jesus, he's shaking like crazy."
"Well get him to fuckin' stop, man"
The other man holding him down pinched his leg to get his attention and spoke to him gratingly, "Kid, if you listen to us were not gonna' hurt you."
When Ben didn't respond, he spoke again, this time to the other man.
"Drew he can't fuckin' respond if you're covering his mouth. I don't think he can breathe with how tight you're holding him."
An annoyed noise came from the man, Drew, as he loosened his grip on Ben's neck and removed his hand from his mouth. A smirk grew on the kneeling man's face as he stared into Ben's eyes.
"Besides, I don't think he's the type to scream anyways."
Even with the hand gone from his mouth, and his breath coming back, Ben couldn't say a word. His panic was growing by the minute as he thought about the situation he was in. Were they going to kill him? What could they possibly want from him, other than to kill someone?
The kneeling man stood up to his level, although he was noticeably taller than Ben himself, something that he didn't see often.
"What's your name, kid?"
The man's eyes drew darker as Ben didn't respond. His mouth was terribly dry, and he was shaking too much to talk.
"Ben"
They both looked at Drew, how did he...
"Look at his jacket, his name's Ben."
The man looked down at the letters on Ben's jacket before smiling at him again.
"Well, Ben," He muttered with venom in his voice while inching closer to him, "I wasn't lying. We don't intend on hurting you, you have my word. If you listen to us, we'll let you go back to that little group of yours."
This wasn't random. They weren't attacking him for no reason. They knew the group, and they wanted something, so as long as he complied, he would be fine, right? For the first time in minutes, Ben spoke.
"What, uhm,", he cleared his throat lightly, not daring to meet the eyes of the taller man, "What do you want?"
The man smile didn't falter once, "We know your group has been doing quite well recently in terms of supplies. You're not the one who has been gathering it, but you should know where that lady keeps all of it."
Ben looked down at that. He did, he knew where Lily stored the medicine, the food, the water, all of it. They all did, it wasn't exactly very secure, but the last thing on their minds were that someone would raid a small group living out of a rundown motel. They didn't exactly look like they had much.
"I do."
"We know, and if you don't want any trouble to come to anyone in your group, you'll give us some."
"What do you want?"
"Half. We want you to give us half, were well off, but we can't have a small group taking the good supplies from runs into town."
Tears threatened to escape Ben, but he fought back. Jesus he was scared. The guns in the holsters of the men stared at him as he spoke.
"What if..."
The man laughed at this, "What if you don't? Ben, our group has thrice as many people as yours, were doing you guys a favor by not just walking in with our guns and taking everything."
When Ben didn't respond, he kept talking. "You don't have to take our deal, though. We won't kill you, but if you don't, we just might find ourselves someone else to get the supplies for us."
Ben hated what he was insinuating. He could take their "favor", or he could walk away and let someone else deal with this. He wanted to leave. He wanted to tell them no and go back to the motel already, but he couldn't. If he didn't, who else would they go to? Targeting the women or children made sense, he doubted they would go for someone who could fight back physically like Lee or Kenny. Even if he went back, he doesn't think they would forgive him for putting the kids, Lily, or Carley in danger. The more he thought, the more he realized his only choice was to agree.
The man grabbed his chin and forced Ben to look at him, "You're pretty, y'know? Well, I bet you're not very smart then, so let me spell it out for you. You take the deal and walk away with yourself and your group unharmed, or you don't and get someone else killed."
The insult didn't register to him; all he thought was the man was right.
"Okay," he spoke up quietly after a minute of silence, "okay, I'll do it, just please don't hurt anyone."
"I'm a man of my word, Ben. We'll walk you back, make sure you get there okay, and show you where to put everything."
The walk back was torture for Ben. His wrists were still tied, but the older man's grip around his waist was unfaltering. He looked up from his view of the ground as the man, whose name he never did learn, started speaking again.
"And Ben? Don't go telling anyone about this. Not those men, or that woman. We'll know if you do, trust me."
For what wasn't the first time that night, Ben was terrified.
He couldn't, the answer was he couldn't. He knew he should've told Lee, or anyone, but he didn't know what the men would do if he did.
And he really didn't want to find out.