Nothing Happens in Sommerville (Part Seventeen)

(So... Sommerville is finally back. Sorry for the very long delay! If you need a refresh, click here!)

“Hey. Still with me?”

A noncommittal grunt was the only sound Bennet made as he nodded his head, despite exhaustion already lulling him back to sleep. He attempted to crack an eye open, before deciding the effort was too great. Why was he trying to stay awake, anyway? Sleep was far better.

“Ben?” The low voice was distant, almost blurry in his ears. It sounded annoyed as it called his name again. “Bennet!”

He tried to ignore it. Bennet squeezed his eyes shut tighter as someone shook him. Why couldn’t he just be left alone?

“Go. . . way,” he rasped irritably.

The concern at how much it hurt to talk vanished as quickly as it came. He was too tired to be worried. Better to go back to sleep and deal with it later. 

CRACK.

Bennet’s eyes flew open as he jolted upright. The world did a somersault before him as the haze in his mind tried to make sense of his surroundings. The lingering echo of the sharp sound rang in his ears until the drowsiness finally began to fade.

Then the pain arrived.

An explosion of fire spread across his left cheek. The tingling sting of the slap against his skin cleared his head enough for other injuries to catch his attention. A dull ache throbbed in his sides with every breath he took. His throat was sore, and the skin on his neck burned like it had been rubbed raw. 

The errant thought that he was in danger ran through his mind. “What…”

“There we are.” The voice purred with satisfaction. “Welcome back, Bennet.”

With great effort, Bennet focused his sight on the man looming over him, before immediately trying to jump to his feet. His escape was halted by tight restraints over his chest, wrists, and legs that bit into his skin at even the briefest movement. He wasn’t getting out, not in his current state. He decided it would be better to wait until the dizzying fog in his mind faded. Perhaps then he could make a plan.

Bennet took a steadying breath, grimacing as the constraints dug in deeper, and forced himself to meet the cold eyes watching him.

“Almost thought you weren’t going to wake up this time. Glad you did.” Willen smirked. “Otherwise, Tye would have been really pissed.”

A sparkling of silver behind Willen caught Bennet’s attention. A large gas canister sat on Tye’s desk. The warning label was a fuzzy jumble to Bennet, but he knew it was bad. Especially when he noticed the nozzle was still turned to open.

Willen followed his gaze and clucked his tongue. “Ah. Don’t worry. I didn’t forget to shut it off. Tank’s completely empty now.” He caught Bennet’s panicked expression and laughed. “Oh, come on. There’s no reason to save it, no matter what Tye says. We’re all going to die anyway.” He shrugged dismissively. “Consider yourself lucky. At least you got to get high one last time.”

It took Bennet’s mind a moment to process the other man’s words, but when he did, he felt his blood turn to ice.

“Y-You. . .you knew?”

“Um, duh. You seriously thought you and Tye were the only ones?” Willen scoffed derisively. “I’ve always known these domes were a crack away from collapse. Surprised Sommerville’s even made it this far.”

Willen’s tone was disturbingly casual, as if the threat of human extinction didn’t concern him in the slightest. 

The Watcher rolled his eyes at Bennet’s stunned silence and leaned against Tye’s desk with a bored sigh. “I can’t believe they let an idiot like you be in charge,” he muttered. “It’s no wonder you’re falling apart now that it actually matters.”

Both men glanced up when the lights flickered. The bulbs buzzed angrily as they turned on and off in rapid succession. Bennet held his breath, silently tracking the time as the gaps between the light and the dark grew longer. At just around four minutes, the power finally calmed, though the light was noticeably dimmer.

Willen let out a low whistle. “It’s progressing quicker than Tye thought it would.” He flashed Bennet a wry smile. “Want to place a bet?”

“A bet?” Bennet repeated slowly, trying not to draw attention to the fact that the gas was finally starting to wear off. And that he’d spotted the knife on Willen’s belt. He began to wiggle his right hand, ignoring the rope’s coarse fibers scraping his skin. “On what?”

“The end.” Willen leaned forward, dropping his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, we’ve got nothing else to do. Watching the wall’s a joke, and it’s not like the power outs are making it any easier for Tye to calm people down. Why shouldn’t we make a game out of everything ending?” He waved a hand flippantly. “I used to think hunger would drive everyone to madness, like the Phoenix compound, but Sommerville’s way too soft for that. Nowadays, I’m thinking we’ll all just freeze or suffocate when the power finally shits out. What do you think?”

“I think,” Bennet couldn’t stop the disgust from creeping into his voice. “I should have seen you for what you are way sooner.” 

Willen’s grin wavered, before returning with a harsh laugh. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot I’m talking to Mr. Morality over here.” He rose to his feet and stalked toward him. “Always trying to protect people from the truth even if that means filling their heads with lies. The “hope it gets better” route that takes away the responsibility of actually having to make a decision.” Willen leaned down until he and Bennet were eye-to-eye. “Funny how your solution has gotten us to the same place as all the others.” 

Bennet glared back at him. “And what’s your solution, Willen? Start a panic among the people? Let the dome fall to chaos?”

“It’d sure be more entertaining than the slow death you and Tye have all sentenced us to,” Willen spat back. 

“If you were so against what we were doing, then why didn’t you say anything?” Bennet demanded, stalling for time as he continued to work his hand free. There was blood trickling down his wrist, but he didn’t stop. “Why’d you serve on the Wall if you thought Sommerville was doomed from the start?”

Willen crossed his arms and considered the question, before a bitter smirk spread across his face. “Well, I needed something to do while I waited for our inevitable demise." There was a devious gleam in his eyes as he added, “And Tye had already made it clear Mallory was off limits.”

Fury sparked in Bennet’s chest at Willen’s suggestive tone. With an angered shout, he surged forward, connecting his forehead with the other man’s nose. The Watcher jerked upright with a loud swear as his hands flew up instinctually. Wasting no time, Bennet yanked his right hand back, gritting his teeth against the rope tearing his skin. He lunged forward, fingers brushing against the handle of Willen’s knife—

A hand snatched his wrist. 

“Nice try.” Blood trickled from Willen’s crooked nose, painting his smile red. The Watcher tightened his grip, taking pleasure in Bennet’s muffled cry of pain as his fingers pressed against the rubbed raw and bleeding skin. “Too bad you weren’t quick enough.”

The Watcher drew his fist back, before cracking Bennet across the jaw. He didn’t have a chance to catch his breath before Willen's fingers dug into his hair and jerked his head up for another bone-rattling blow. Bennet's senses were a blur as Willen hit him again. The thick taste of blood filled his mouth as Willen's knuckles split against his teeth.

Willen didn't seem to notice nor care that he was shedding his own blood, now. In the brief seconds between attacks, Bennet could see the inferno of hatred in the other man's gaze. A silent accusation that all of this was somehow Bennet's fault, and that this onslaught of pain was a justified punishment for his guilt.

Maybe he was guilty.

For the last seven years, Bennet had tried to hide from his sins. But here, disoriented by pain and with nowhere to run, he had to face it. The stains of his past bled into Willen's fists, striking Bennet with double agony.

The deceptions and deaths he’d helped Tye cover up. The careful lies and manipulations he’d used to keep Mallory in the dark, sealed with a treacherous kiss. He’d done awful things, for what? To delay the inevitable?

It hardly felt like a relief when Willen finally stopped.

Bennet could barely hear the wheezing sound of his breath over the ringing in his ears. He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but found he could only crack one open; the other was swollen shut. Sticky lines of drying blood itched against his skin. After all of that, it was a miracle he wasn't dead.

Why wasn’t he dead? Why hadn't Willen killed him?

He fixed his good eye on Willen. “Why…are you…dragging…this out?”

“Oh, I want to kill you, believe me,” Willen scowled. Red dripped down his knuckles. “But the boss has something special planned for you and your wife. He told me it’s a death the two of you deserve, whatever that means. So, I can be patient.” He flexed his fingers. “There are other things I can do to you in the meantime.”

Bennet let his head fall against his chest with a weary sigh. He wished Willen hadn’t used up all of the gas already. It would be nice not to feel anything again.

He heard Willen mutter something about him being melodramatic, before the sound of a door slamming open startled both of them. Bennet snapped his head up and saw Willen staring past him with shock. Bennet tried to turn, but couldn’t see who had entered behind him.

Recovering himself, Willen stormed past Bennet, already reaching for his knife. “What the f—?”

The furious scream that interrupted Willen was unlike anything Bennet had ever heard. His stomach turned at the sound of something heavy striking flesh, followed by Willen’s howl of pain. The attacker didn’t waste any time in hitting Willen again. The third blow emitted a horrible squelch. At some point, Willen’s pained whimpers had gone silent. 

Bennet jumped at the thud of the attacker’s weapon falling to the floor. Over the pounding of his heart, he heard ragged gasps and the metallic clinking of a chain. Without looking, he knew they were staring at him. Sizing him up.

“H-Hey, listen,” he stammered out as unsteady footsteps approached him from behind. “I-I’m not going to say anything. I-I don’t even know who you are, so you don’t have to kill me or–or anything!”

“Oh my God, shut up.” A familiar voice snapped. “You’re making my headache worse.”

Bennet’s mind went blank as a gentle hand rested on his shoulder. He looked up and saw bright green eyes glaring down at him.

“Mallory,” he whispered, too relieved and overjoyed to manage anything more.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alive.” She didn’t return his smile as her gaze swept over him. “You okay?” At his astonished nod, she placed her hands on her hips. “Good. Because you have a lot of explaining to do.”