Lost Fan Fic

Part two


Malo stared at Ben, his mouth gaping as he heard his mother’s voice, her usual soft tone seeming almost foreign as if it wasn’t her who was speaking to him at all. He looked at Ben, then at his mother. Malo did not speak, he only stared, his gaze alternating between the two of them. Ben returned his son’s gaze and smiled, hoping to reassure him. He tried to speak to him, but instead Malo cut him off with an icy glare and started backwards, almost falling over scattered branches. “Malo, it’s OK” said Annie, rising to her feet.
“Mum we have to go now, it will be dark soon” Malo replied defiantly. Annie sighed.
“Then at least help me get your father back to the camp”
Malo cursed under his breath, but did what his mother asked of him. Together they struggled to lift Ben, supporting his weight mainly across each of their shoulders. Annie was concerned at Ben’s recurrent bouts of incoherence. She suspected he also had at best a broken nose and a few cracked ribs. Malo grew tired quickly, he was not yet accustomed to this climate; they had only been on the island three days. Three days too long he thought. He looked across at the man, the stranger who his mother still loved. “Why? Ben had abandoned them, broken her heart, left him without a father, cast them off as if they meant nothing to him. He had never even bothered to ask for a picture of me, his son, thought Malo; so why should I give a damn about him?” his mind began to ache with questions and his heart felt heavy with emotion.

Eventually they made it back to camp. Helping Ben into the medical tent, Malo waited until Ben was standing over the bed and let go of him, Ben’s body slumping down onto the mattress. Without looking back he exited the tent and walked off along the beach. “Malo” cried Annie.
Annie was saddened that Malo was not interested in his father. She had never envisaged their meeting would be this traumatic, she had hoped Ben would either visit them in Sydney, or Malo ask to see his father, but neither of her wishes had come true. It was Annie who had decided that the two of them needed to meet; she took slight comfort in Malo’s stubbornness, he was just like Ben. Ben groaned as his head touched the pillow. Annie helped him move his legs onto the bed and, after removing his boots, placed the cotton sheets over him. Annie took a cold compress and soothed it over Ben’s forehead. Her actions were greeted with slight whimpers and incoherent mumblings. Annie kissed her husband, caressing his cheek as he closed his eyes.

Ben awoke, groggy and in pain. The sunlight crept through the gap in the tent flap. He looked to his side, finding Annie asleep in a wicker chair next to him. Ben reached for her hand and held her soft skin between his fingers. Annie stirred and looked at him smiling.
“I’m glad you’re here” Ben whispered, his throat dry and sore. Annie placed a cup of cool water to his lips and he drank. Leaning over him, she stole a few seconds to breath in his scent, something she had fantasised about doing many a time over the years.
“You need a bath” she said, giggling. Ben smiled and nodded.

Annie helped Ben into the warm bath she had prepared for him. Annie helped him undress to his underwear, losing herself in their intimacy periodically as she caressed his skin. She looked lovingly at him. “Hmmm charcoal coloured underwear was always my favourite on you”. Ben smiled back at her. She took his hand as he stepped into the water. As he lowered his battered body into the bath, Ben drew in a sharp breath as the water stung his cuts and grazes. Annie sighed at the bruises. She kissed him, causing Ben to moan into her lips.
“I love you” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m sorry for everything. I am sorry for becoming like Roger”
Annie silenced him with another kiss “You’re not like your father, he pushed you away because he could not live with his own failings, you pushed us away to protect us”
“My son hates me. I don’t know him, he doesn’t know me. Why would he wish to? I abandoned you both. Making you leave was the hardest thing I thought I’d have to do. Now I know that facing my responsibilities, being a good father, keeping you both safe was what I should have done.”
“Our son and I would have died here, you did your best by us”
“Annie” Ben mumbled. Cupping her hands, she spread the water over Ben’s shoulders, chest and abdomen as he writhed in discomfort. She spent a few moments bathing him and washing his hair, soothing him as she tried to relax him. After drying him, lifting the white robe over his head, Annie pulled it down over his body, snuggling into him. Ben winced as he struggled to pull up the white cotton trousers. Together they walked out of the tent to meet the rest of the camp, Ben still reliant on Annie for support.

Malo sat near the fire; he stared into the heat as the flames danced near his face, smoke and embers rising into the night sky. Ben looked over to him. “Can I talk to him?” he asked, almost seeking permission from her as if he felt he had no right to be in the presence of their son.
“If he’ll let you, Ben. He’s a lot like you”
Ben tentatively walked over to where Malo was sitting. Instantly Malo stood and turned toward his mother. “Please” called Ben. Malo halted, sitting back down but inching away from the stranger. “I would like to speak with you”.
Malo frowned, his features creasing as anger flowed through his body. Ben felt intense pain around his mouth and jaw as Malo’s fist connected. Placing a hand to his lips he wiped away the blood. “You have NOTHING to say that I could possibly wish to hear, Ben!” replied Malo promptly rising to his feet again and heading off away from his father’s direction.
“Are the voices more audible, more coherent here than in Sydney? Do you feel His presence everywhere you turn?” asked Ben, gazing out toward the ocean. Ben looked down at his legs and smiled, his fingers clasping at blades of grass around him as he sensed his son gaze back at him. The air between them was eerily still.
“What?” asked Malo, inquisitively. He smiled almost unbelieving of the words Ben had just spoken. He walked back to where Ben was seated and lowered his head to meet his father’s. “You’re mad. I have no idea what you are talking about” he replied, a nervous trembling in his voice.
“Do you see Him?” asked Ben, more aggressively this time. Malo swallowed, his body now shaking. Without any encouragement, the boy sat down, his eyes fixating on the same landscape as Ben’s. Moments passed without either of them speaking. Finally, Malo broke the silence.
“I see both of them, since coming here I mean, before it was only the old man”
Ben turned sharply to face his son. “Both of them?” He took hold of Malo ‘s shoulders and looked deep into his eyes. “What do you mean both of them?”
Malo’s expression turned to pure fear. “The old man and the young boy” he replied, stuttering the words.
“What young boy?” demanded Ben.
“The boy who killed the birds” Malo whispered, shaking his head in an attempt to collect his thoughts. “I see him in my nightmares, he’s all around. Whenever the old man asks me for help, he is there. He is there Dad, standing in the shadows” Instinctively, Malo wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck and cried into his shoulder.
“Walt?!” Ben cried as he comforted Malo