Cry Baby - BEN Drowned x Reader

I Want To See Her Bleed

It's been a few weeks since Cassies second passing.

Things have been moving slower than usual.

Particularly, myself.

I decided to drop out of college, and instead, get a part-time job.

I also decided to start seeing a therapist on my days off.

BEN tried to convince me to stay in school, get my degree, and get the job I always dreamed of.

I wanted to become a pediatric doctor.

Me and Cassie, working in the same hospital, taking care of kids and living our lives to the fullest.

But I couldn't complete that dream without her.

It felt wrong, going to class and not seeing her waiting at the front doors of the lecture hall, an annoyed look on her face.

Her lecturing me about being late all the time, when I knew that she had been there 4 hours early, trying to escape her father.

She always woke up at 4 a.m., since her dad would wake up at 6.

She always wanted to be out of the house before him, and home after he was already asleep.

Her dad worked for a construction company.

He didn't make much, but whatever he did make went towards alcohol.

She always told me that she didn't know how they kept their house, since she didn't work, and her dad was spending all their funds on his addiction.

I knew how they kept their house.

My mom and I paid all their bills.

Once I told her about Cassies problems, she decided to take care of them.

My mom makes good money, she's a high-end lawyer.

We have a decent house, and we made sure that Cassie had somewhere to stay.

Cassie hated staying at my house, no matter what I told her, she always thought she was a burden.

In all honesty, I loved it when Cassie came over.

She became part of the family, my mom would take us shopping for school supplies, and whenever we needed new clothes, my mom would be more than happy to take us to go and buy some.

My mom truly thought of Cassie as her daughter.

Hell, our high school even called my mom instead of Cassies dad.

Whenever Cassie got in trouble, the school called my mom.

Report cards? Straight to my address.

Cassie got in a fight? Call Ms. (L/N).

Cassie got suspended because of that fight? Ms. (L/N).

Cassies grades are slipping. You guessed it, call my mom in.

I'm pretty sure the teachers even thought we were related.

The students knew better, though.

They made fun of Cassie for everything.

Her sexuality, her home life, how her family struggled financially.

But never her looks.

Cassie was gorgeous.

Long, silky-smooth strawberry blond hair.

Bright blue eyes, with a green tint.

A soft smile, with full lips.

A button nose.

The body of a model.

She had it all.

Except for a good home-life.

I made sure that was taken care of, along with her bullies.

I'm not one to fight, but when it came to Cassie?

All Hell broke loose if I heard a single person comment negatively about her.

My mom never batted an eye when she heard of my fighting.

She knew why I did it.

And now, I don't have to fight kids over what they say about her.

Because Cassie is dead.

And I'm never getting her back.

And that's why I can't fulfill my dreams.

Because they were Cassies, too.

How can I fulfill a promise I made with someone, after they've died?

"What are you thinking about, (Y/N)?" My therapist, Dr. Fitcher, asks.

"Nothing." I reply quietly.

Dr. Fitcher is an older woman, about mid-forties.

She has short, dark brown hair, clearly dyed, and light brown eyes.

Her skin is pale, but surprisingly wrinkle-free.

Whatever wrinkles she does have, make her look mature, and sophisticated.

"(Y/N). I want to talk to you about our last session. You mentioned a boy named Ben, is that correct?" She crossed her legs, setting her clipboard on her knee, and putting her pen behind her ear.

"BEN." I said.

"What's that?" She asked.

"BEN. His name is BEN. Not Ben." I corrected her, glancing up to meet her gaze.

"Hm. And how do you feel about him?" She asked, taking her pen out and clicking it.

"I feel..." I trailed off, not knowing the answer.

She nodded softly, encouraging me to go on.

"I feel like he understands me. Like he knows how I'm feeling all the time." I said, focusing my attention on my hands resting on my lap.

"Mhm, and what about your mom. Do you think she understands you?" She asked, scribbling notes.

I hate when she does that.

It pisses me off.

It makes me want to-

"(Y/N)? Do you think your mom understands you?" She asked again, staring at me.

"No." I said curtly.

"And why's that?" She questioned, scribbling away again.

I want to stab the pen through her throat.

I want to see her scared of me.

"Because, she doesn't know what it's like." I said.

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, writing again.

Stop.

"She doesn't know what it's like to feel like you're going insane." I said, spacing out.

"Hm." She wrote that down, again.

She glanced at the clock and clicked her pen.

"That looks like all the time we have today. Our next meeting is next Wednesday, at noon. Sound good?" She asked, standing up and placing her clipboard on her neat, chestnut desk.

I want to see her blood stain that wood.

Would it show up, against the dark complexion?

Or would it be clear as day?

"Sounds good." I said, walking out without shaking her hand.

BEN was waiting for me outside, leaning against the brick building.

"How'd it go?" He asked, linking our arms.

"Terrible. I hate her." I said, giving him a small smile.

"(Y/N). There's something I want to tell you." He said quietly, stopping.

"What is it?" I asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"Well... y'know that game of hide and seek?"