His heart pounded in his chest, panic having taken up residence there long ago. How blissful it had been only moments before, just the two of them, and now it felt as if Ari was saying goodbye. Which made it that much worse. Not knowing when he would see Ari again gripped at him like a vice, and his stomach dropped as his hand was removed. He wanted so desperately to put his hand back, already feeling the absence. He wouldn’t just leave. He couldn’t. This was Ari, steadfast and enduring. But no, he was saying he had to, in order to distance himself; as if saving Ben's reputation would be better than going somewhere together where know one knew them.

But Ben had done it before. He had.

And for one mad moment, Ben wanted to seize Ari by the shoulders again, twist on the spot and take them away before rationale kicked in. Before he could tell his body to surge forward, he knew it wouldn't work. It was foolish. Ari would be furious, and Ben would loathe himself for trying to make this better in all the wrong ways. Even so — “Dammit, Ari you need to fight!” He burst out, desperation coating his voice as his breath hitched in his throat. “Fight this, fight for Elliot, for your family, for —” me. His eyes stung, and he swiped at them hurriedly; if his vision blurred too much, Ari would disappear. He was already disappearing. “Please…”

Even as the plea hit the air between them, it felt hollow. Where Ben threw punches, Ari braced. There was nothing he could do to change Ari’s mind. He wanted to fight for Ari. He wanted Ari to fight for them. For all the screaming or yelling in the world, Ari would do what he thought was right for everyone, and that was to isolate himself. Visions of the next day had already slammed themselves into Ben’s mind, with Ari nowhere to be found. There was nothing. There would be nothing. Hands laced through his hair, Ben pivoted. It was too much. His heart felt as if it were about to burst, and any words that came to him begging Ari to stay remained congested, swollen and deformed.

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