[Ben waits patiently, true to his word, intent on his work. If she never utters another word about it he won't press, uninterested in wresting from her any secret she doesn't want him to have of her own volition. He doesn't think about anything while she considers, though he's fully aware of the rise and fall of her pulse, the hitches in her breathing; he can hear her remember. He waits.
And eventually she does find her starting point, and then he listens. He's learned by now to ignore the actual words - father has no meaning to him, he barely understands the concept of other worlds, he doesn't really understand why childhood attacks are so traumatic considering his own childhood - and listen to the way that they're said, and he makes a small, encouraging noise in his throat.\
And you are still not dead. [It's both an observation and an invitation - and a statement, in the mild but significant warmth in his voice, that he is glad for the truth of it.]
[ Spam ]
And eventually she does find her starting point, and then he listens. He's learned by now to ignore the actual words - father has no meaning to him, he barely understands the concept of other worlds, he doesn't really understand why childhood attacks are so traumatic considering his own childhood - and listen to the way that they're said, and he makes a small, encouraging noise in his throat.\
And you are still not dead. [It's both an observation and an invitation - and a statement, in the mild but significant warmth in his voice, that he is glad for the truth of it.]