Heroes Don't Cry...Do They?

"Abigail, look," breathed the man, brushing strands of his blonde hair from his eyes. Sitting beside the Hero Queen, his outstretched index finger pointed. "Hollow man."

Abigail Becket laughed, feeling something drape around her shoulders once the man moved. It was his red Major's military jacket, and she pulled it closer to her, his warmth still radiating throughout it. "Ben, if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you were scared of Hollow Men." she teased. Moving closer to the small pond with the beautiful water fall, she brushed her fingertips across the crude drawing of the Hollow Man.

Ben's face flushed. "I'm not afraid, I just don't like them, Princess." he mumbled, watching the dead skeletal systems wander around the water when she spun it gently with her vortex gauntlet on her left arm. She looked up at him, and he smiled at her, and she smiled back. "Here…I uh…Found this." and he held out something in his hand. The long green stem emerged from his gentle but rough Major hands, a single flower bright in the moonlight. It's five petals brushed in the wind, the pink and white of the Auroran Flowers were perfectly painted on each petal. Her hand took it, and she smiled, "Ben! You didn't go to Auroran to get this, did you?"

Ben smiled softly. "Something like that." and he saw her smile, something that the Princess of Albion had not done in a while since they had seen Major Swift die. At first, Ben had not intended on becoming a Major of the Albion Army, until Walter had draped the jacket on him. Swift's old jacket, he had felt the spirit of the old Major bleed into him. He had to do something about King Logan. Hearing something in the bushes, Ben looked over, and then said, "Abbs. Look."

She did and she looked at the water. There was only a few things that made this Hero weak all over, not being able to breathe. Ben's eyes locked with the Hero's crystal blue eyes, and he got lost in them for a minute. Then he stood up, just as the other man emerged from the shadows. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Abigail and the Major. Come here for a little midnight adventure, have you?"

"What do you want, Duane?" growled Ben, stepping between the Hero and the new man. He knew him well, and so did the now standing Hero. This was an old boyfriend of the Princess, who had become dangerous and abusive, threatening that if she left, she would get hurt. Of course, he was also the best friend of King Logan, who couldn't have cared less, and didn't even believe his sister when she had come for help.

"Ben, please," Abigail begged, reaching out and grabbing his arm. Ben jerked away.

"Abby, no." he stated, and then looked back at her. He saw the flower resting in the pocket of the jacket she was wearing so snug to her body, her blonde hair freely draping over her shoulders. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, mostly because they were filled with tears. "He hurt you in more ways than one. He's not going to do it again."

Abby backed away from the men, listening to them argue. She saw the weapon around Duane's waist, and looked at Ben. The Major was unarmed. This was too dangerous for them all. Lights began coming on from neighboring houses, and a few rants were starting. "Ben, Duane, please!" she cried, listening to her best friend protect her from the enemy that had caused her so much pain before she even knew that she was a Hero. But something about this scene didn't feel right.

She tried again. "Please, Ben, stop!" she shouted, tears burning freely down her cheeks. They still didn't hear her, and she burst into tears, catching the attention of Ben for a second. Then he went back to shouting at Duane, seeing her cry only made him more upset at the man. But he didn't know that he had actually caused the tears.

Her eyes closed. Time stopped.

"Welcome to the Sanctuary, miss."

"Hello, Jasper." she greeted and simply walked into the armory. Her weapon of choice was a new pair of gauntlets, the same on each hand.

Time played. "I said…" she walked in between the two, rage in her tearful eyes. She placed one hand against Duane's chest, her hand hard and rough. Another was against Ben's, her hand soft and gentle. "Stop it!" she shouted, and slammed her eyes shut, channeling a built up force of energy into the gauntlets.

The strength of the force push erupting from her gauntlets was too much for the men to take. Duane landed in nearby rocks, knocking him out cold. Ben landed into the water, making a large splash. She pulled the jacket off of her, laying it softly on the dried rocks and crossed her arms. She walked away from the groaning men. Ben waded out of the water, the chilling Albion air biting at his skin. A frown took over his lips, watching the Hero walk away. Standing up out of the water, he followed her like a lost puppy after grabbing his jacket, watching where she was going. The Hero had stopped in her house in Brightwall, and Ben slipped quietly inside. After finding his change of clothes and getting redressed, he walked upstairs to hear soft crying. Digging into his jacket, he pulled out the flower, which seemed like it was broken and fragile. Setting it onto the table, he walked slowly upstairs, his hand trailing on the staircase banister. Hearing the gentle crying of the Hero, he froze at the top step.

Heroes don't cry.

Do they?

"Abbs?" he muttered softly, walking over to her. She was curled up on the bed like a ball, her gauntlets thrown to the side. Without invitation, Ben sat down on the bed beside her, and then eventually moved to where they were lying down side by side. Abigail rolled over to her other side, and he did the same, so they were facing each other. He reached up, brushing her blonde hair from her face. "I'm sorry." She looked up at him, her eyes filled to the brim with tears. So much pain, so much hurt, the Hero had been through so much. He smiled softly and moved close to her, placing a hand under her chin to tilt her head up gently. Just when bliss was to take place, their lips only centimeters from touching…She pushed Ben off the bed. His face flushed as he landed on his back and Abigail quickly brushed away the tears and sat up. Ben stood, hearing footsteps and then a creak of a bed downstairs. Sir Walter Beck's soft snoring filled the room.