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Feb. 19th, 2010 11:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
til_it_aint[ooc: Spoilers for Carnivale episode 1x10. Most dialogue and imagery taken from said episode. Whitetext.]
After he talks with Kate, Ben sleeps through half the night, dreams but he knows they're dreams and he don't care so that he wakes up more rested than he's been in months. Goes down t'the bar, eats, gets a coffee, goes outside and wanders the woods a bit. There's what looks like rabbits but they ain't, they're just plain weird, so after the third one leaps at him he goes for th'lake instead. Feels - okay, for once, comfortable, like everythin's gonna be okay.
He sits under a tree, whittlin' a piece of wood down, not really lookin' t'make anythin' (which is good 'cause it don't look like nothin') when he nicks his thumb with the blade. Ain't bad, just makes him hiss, but when he sees the bright drops on the blade, sees it smeared on his arm taravataravataravataravatarav it's like a fuckin' fist to the head, makes him jerk forwards with th'memories, war and blood and bodies and corn and scythes and he wants t'scream with it all.
It's gone as soon as it come but it's enough and he stumbles back to his room breathin' hard, ragin' somewhere inside of him 'cause it was supposed to be goddamn over! It was supposed to be okay, now that he'd talked it out! But it weren't okay, not no more and for the next two days he don't even go down t'the bar, don't sleep 'cause every time he does there's blood and screamin' and things he sees he don't want to.
When he sees Ruthie lyin' out like death he goes down for just a moment, long enough to grab a bottle of booze. He downs more'n he ever should, and when even that don't make the visions stop flickering across his eyelids when he blinks he takes the bottle by the neck, and stumbles out his door 'cause if Milliways ain't helpin' Carnivale can't make it worse.
-
He finishes the bottle, but it don't help none. He shows up for work and Jonesy tells 'im t'get th'hell out and he does, hides behind the cootch tent and drives his head into the posts t'the rhythm. He's even more lost than he was in fuckin' Milliways, 'cause at least there it was far away but now it's goddamn happening.
Carnivale goes dark for th'night and he don't know what t'do so he wanders, stumblin' through the night. Libby's takin' a bath in the main area but th'water goes cold and she gets out shiverin', leaves the water there while she goes for towels or somesuch. Ben remembers cold water arching down at Milliways, keepin' his eyes open, and figures it can't hurt t'try so he peels off t'his underthings, lowers himself in and it's cold as fuck but every nerve is awake, now.
Ain't so awake later, when everythin's numb and he c'n feel himself shakin', but can't get th'energy to get out, or open his eyes, 'cause all there is is coldcoldcold inside and out, cold in his mind, his heart, and he don't barely notice the hands comin' round him, pickin' him up like a baby and takin' him down t'Ruthie's trailer.
He's only half awake when she strips him, towels him down, and he tries t'fight but he ain't got strength to. She gets Gabe t'lift him into bed and that's when he really struggles 'cause he ain't sleepin', ain't givin' this a chance t'get worse.
"You need some shuteye," she tells him, soft'n'low sounds like Kate, for a moment, but he tries to sit, eyes half-shut 'cause he can't seem t'keep them open.
"No," he mutters, "No, I can't, can't sleep."
"Nonsense," she says, hands firm on him, tuckin' him down. "When's the last time you slept in a bed?"
She don't understand, and it hurts. She ain't gettin' it, and he's gotta make her understand so he hauls in a breath, burnin' in his lungs, "I can't take them dreams no more."
But she ain't listenin', runnin' her hands through his hair instead. "Poor thing," she murmurs. "You are just plumb tuckered out. You can't even think straight."
He's still tryin' t'sit up, but he can tell right now it's a losin' battle. He tries one more time, "You don't know." Harsh, words gettin' dragged out of him, hard. "You don't know what I see."
It don't work. "Honey, everyone has bad dreams, it's the times we live in. It's hard to be happy."
"No," he tries, but she talks right over him.
"And it's hard to feel safe." Her hands are movin' over him, pressin' him down, smooth skin and he can feel the heat on him, feel the cold deep in his bones now. His breathin's hard, now, gaspin' like he's already in dreams 'cause he can't seem t'get enough air. "He'll come back. He'll always come back." He chokes, takes another breath, tries again. "They're tryin' t'chase me, and I'm runnin', an' I can't stop runnin'."
He half goes down, grinds the heel of his palm into his head like he c'n just shove right through and take th'bad stuff out, barely register's Ruthie's hand on his hair, her voice, "Poor baby."
But she ain't got it, not yet. She's actin' like he's a child, like he's Gabe. "No - it's always Scudder. Always, yeah, even before I met him he was in my dreams. They're tryin' t'kill me. Every time I close my eyes." He can see on her face, when he can see it, when it ain't goin' fuzzy, that she's understandin' now, and then there's a flash behind his eyes of tattoos snakes blood and he pinches the bridge of his nose, hard, pulls air in like he's fuckin' drownin' on dry land."Every time it's gettin' worse, Ruthie. Somethin' bad's gonna happen."
He can't hardly see her, now, but he hears her breathin' and he feels an arm wrap around him, pull him in close, and her voice is hard when she says "You listen t'me, Ben Hawkins. You are safe with me. I'll take care of you, I won't let anything hurt you."
And she sounds, somehow, like Kate, and she's pressin' his head into her chest and the tears start comin' so that he can't stop them, sobs tearing out of his chest, hard and dry and she holds him, touches him, and then-
-then her hands are slower, over his body, and her head comes down and his tilts up and they're kissin', and she's over him touchin' him showin' him how and it feels right, feels good, and he's cryin' little gasping sobs but oh, god it feels so good.
-
He is running. He is in the cornfield and he is running, and there is thunder and rain and behind him there is a man with a crown of thorns and a birch-tree tattoo. Chasing. He chases and Ben runs, runs because he has a scythe in his hand and Ben can feel the fear bubbling up inside of him, choking him.
And then the man is front of him and the world seems to slow. Ben whirls, bolting the other direction, but behind him the man follows and he cannot run fast enough. He looks over his shoulder and the breath rasps in his throat, choking him so that he falls, hard, but then
Henry Scudder, snarling, picks himself up shouts HE'S MINE
he wakes up. And Ruthie is screaming something at Lodz, an' Lodz - Lodz is in the trailer, somehow, but Ruthie's shovin' him out and Ben feels his eyelids flutter shut again 'cause he don't seem t'have th'strength t'keep them open.
After he talks with Kate, Ben sleeps through half the night, dreams but he knows they're dreams and he don't care so that he wakes up more rested than he's been in months. Goes down t'the bar, eats, gets a coffee, goes outside and wanders the woods a bit. There's what looks like rabbits but they ain't, they're just plain weird, so after the third one leaps at him he goes for th'lake instead. Feels - okay, for once, comfortable, like everythin's gonna be okay.
He sits under a tree, whittlin' a piece of wood down, not really lookin' t'make anythin' (which is good 'cause it don't look like nothin') when he nicks his thumb with the blade. Ain't bad, just makes him hiss, but when he sees the bright drops on the blade, sees it smeared on his arm taravataravataravataravatarav it's like a fuckin' fist to the head, makes him jerk forwards with th'memories, war and blood and bodies and corn and scythes and he wants t'scream with it all.
It's gone as soon as it come but it's enough and he stumbles back to his room breathin' hard, ragin' somewhere inside of him 'cause it was supposed to be goddamn over! It was supposed to be okay, now that he'd talked it out! But it weren't okay, not no more and for the next two days he don't even go down t'the bar, don't sleep 'cause every time he does there's blood and screamin' and things he sees he don't want to.
When he sees Ruthie lyin' out like death he goes down for just a moment, long enough to grab a bottle of booze. He downs more'n he ever should, and when even that don't make the visions stop flickering across his eyelids when he blinks he takes the bottle by the neck, and stumbles out his door 'cause if Milliways ain't helpin' Carnivale can't make it worse.
-
He finishes the bottle, but it don't help none. He shows up for work and Jonesy tells 'im t'get th'hell out and he does, hides behind the cootch tent and drives his head into the posts t'the rhythm. He's even more lost than he was in fuckin' Milliways, 'cause at least there it was far away but now it's goddamn happening.
Carnivale goes dark for th'night and he don't know what t'do so he wanders, stumblin' through the night. Libby's takin' a bath in the main area but th'water goes cold and she gets out shiverin', leaves the water there while she goes for towels or somesuch. Ben remembers cold water arching down at Milliways, keepin' his eyes open, and figures it can't hurt t'try so he peels off t'his underthings, lowers himself in and it's cold as fuck but every nerve is awake, now.
Ain't so awake later, when everythin's numb and he c'n feel himself shakin', but can't get th'energy to get out, or open his eyes, 'cause all there is is coldcoldcold inside and out, cold in his mind, his heart, and he don't barely notice the hands comin' round him, pickin' him up like a baby and takin' him down t'Ruthie's trailer.
He's only half awake when she strips him, towels him down, and he tries t'fight but he ain't got strength to. She gets Gabe t'lift him into bed and that's when he really struggles 'cause he ain't sleepin', ain't givin' this a chance t'get worse.
"You need some shuteye," she tells him, soft'n'low sounds like Kate, for a moment, but he tries to sit, eyes half-shut 'cause he can't seem t'keep them open.
"No," he mutters, "No, I can't, can't sleep."
"Nonsense," she says, hands firm on him, tuckin' him down. "When's the last time you slept in a bed?"
She don't understand, and it hurts. She ain't gettin' it, and he's gotta make her understand so he hauls in a breath, burnin' in his lungs, "I can't take them dreams no more."
But she ain't listenin', runnin' her hands through his hair instead. "Poor thing," she murmurs. "You are just plumb tuckered out. You can't even think straight."
He's still tryin' t'sit up, but he can tell right now it's a losin' battle. He tries one more time, "You don't know." Harsh, words gettin' dragged out of him, hard. "You don't know what I see."
It don't work. "Honey, everyone has bad dreams, it's the times we live in. It's hard to be happy."
"No," he tries, but she talks right over him.
"And it's hard to feel safe." Her hands are movin' over him, pressin' him down, smooth skin and he can feel the heat on him, feel the cold deep in his bones now. His breathin's hard, now, gaspin' like he's already in dreams 'cause he can't seem t'get enough air. "He'll come back. He'll always come back." He chokes, takes another breath, tries again. "They're tryin' t'chase me, and I'm runnin', an' I can't stop runnin'."
He half goes down, grinds the heel of his palm into his head like he c'n just shove right through and take th'bad stuff out, barely register's Ruthie's hand on his hair, her voice, "Poor baby."
But she ain't got it, not yet. She's actin' like he's a child, like he's Gabe. "No - it's always Scudder. Always, yeah, even before I met him he was in my dreams. They're tryin' t'kill me. Every time I close my eyes." He can see on her face, when he can see it, when it ain't goin' fuzzy, that she's understandin' now, and then there's a flash behind his eyes of tattoos snakes blood and he pinches the bridge of his nose, hard, pulls air in like he's fuckin' drownin' on dry land."Every time it's gettin' worse, Ruthie. Somethin' bad's gonna happen."
He can't hardly see her, now, but he hears her breathin' and he feels an arm wrap around him, pull him in close, and her voice is hard when she says "You listen t'me, Ben Hawkins. You are safe with me. I'll take care of you, I won't let anything hurt you."
And she sounds, somehow, like Kate, and she's pressin' his head into her chest and the tears start comin' so that he can't stop them, sobs tearing out of his chest, hard and dry and she holds him, touches him, and then-
-then her hands are slower, over his body, and her head comes down and his tilts up and they're kissin', and she's over him touchin' him showin' him how and it feels right, feels good, and he's cryin' little gasping sobs but oh, god it feels so good.
-
He is running. He is in the cornfield and he is running, and there is thunder and rain and behind him there is a man with a crown of thorns and a birch-tree tattoo. Chasing. He chases and Ben runs, runs because he has a scythe in his hand and Ben can feel the fear bubbling up inside of him, choking him.
And then the man is front of him and the world seems to slow. Ben whirls, bolting the other direction, but behind him the man follows and he cannot run fast enough. He looks over his shoulder and the breath rasps in his throat, choking him so that he falls, hard, but then
Henry Scudder, snarling, picks himself up shouts HE'S MINE
he wakes up. And Ruthie is screaming something at Lodz, an' Lodz - Lodz is in the trailer, somehow, but Ruthie's shovin' him out and Ben feels his eyelids flutter shut again 'cause he don't seem t'have th'strength t'keep them open.
