Chapter Text
Ben didn’t know what was happening. One moment he was floating in darkness. This is how he imagined death to be like, simply sleep but without dreams.
However he was pulled from his trance of exhaustion back to reality. Except it wasn’t really reality but rather the black void was now white. Everything around him was clearer and sharper and Ben was left wondering what was happening.
He wasn’t fronting, he knew that much. The world isn’t a stark white after all. But when he wasn’t fronting it was like this. He doesn’t really remember what happens to him when he isn’t fronting but from what he can piece together it’s like sleeping.
And sleeping doesn’t usually mean a white loading screen.
God does he wish he could go back to bed, his bed not Tim's, because this is far too confusing and he doesn’t have the mental energy to deal with it.
Maybe in about a decade he will be ready to deal with what’s happening head-on. But now is not the time.
Shockingly enough right next to him his old bunkbed appeared from nowhere. Its random presence caused him to jump back in shock before realising what it actually was.
It was almost a splitting image of his old bed. The top bunk had his space themed bedding and ladybug pillow pet resting on it. The bottom one was covered in his sister’s old floral duvet and far too many teddies.
It was as if the strange void could read his mind.
So he thinks of something again, this time with more intent and more focus on what he wants.
A bookshelf appears at the foot of the bed, brimming with well-loved children’s books and trinkets. Ben could see all of his sister’s Mallory Towers books on the second shelf and his How To Train Your Dragon series next to it.
It was exactly how he remembered it.
Maybe this place is like in the Lego Movie when they go into Emmet’s mind, but that would make it his brain.
But that wouldn’t make sense. You can’t go into your own brain, that entire film was just pure fantasy and he knows that. Still he didn’t think that a brain could house more than one person and yet he shares his so what does he know.
All he cares about is the fact that he essentially has the ability to create anything he could possibly dream of and the first thing he wants to do is recreate his old room.
He never even liked the room. Sharing it with his sister from the age of two meant that it wasn’t very personalised. There were no posters put up, just postcards from places they visited on holiday and glow in the dark stars tacked to the wall next to his bed.
Neither one could put something large up without an argument so the box-room was always pretty neutral.
While his sister was jealous of all the other girls having their room’s painted pink and Ben wanted it to be painted red, his parents kept the neutral cream paint firmly coating the walls.
He hated it then but now he understands why they kept it that way.
So he took up residence on his old bed, taking care to build his old room to be an exact replica of how it once was. Nothing could be out of place because if he was going to do this then he wanted to do it right.
Each crappy star had to be placed in the exact right position. The curtains had to fall just right and each and every random trinket that he and his younger sister collected over the years had to be accounted for.
If one thing was off then the whole room felt wrong.
Just as he was adding the last touches to his sister's jewellery box on top of the bookshelf, the cupboard door clicked open.
For a moment he panicked. He didn’t make that open, he doesn’t even remember adding it before then. His old fear of monsters lurking in the cupboard helped him to procrastinate that particular task.
What if thinking about the monsters created them? Because if it did then he is in deep shit.
Fortunately a monster did not step out of the door, rather a man he recognised all too well. It must have been Tim.
Despite never having spoken to him face to face, Ben has been wearing Tim’s skin for just under a week. He knows what Tim looks like.
But if Tim is there then who was fronting? Or maybe the body is just asleep. That’s probably what’s going on. Why does he need to worry himself to death?
Wasn’t the events of the past week enough to keep his adrenaline levels at an all time high?
Apparently not because his brain keeps on imagining worst case scenarios as if it were a professional sport.
Panic crossed Tim’s face as he observed Ben’s creation. Seemingly questioning how it came to be about. That is until he looked at the top bunk, finding his headmate observing him, nerves racking his body.
Truth be told Ben never really wanted to meet Tim face-to-face. He didn’t think he could handle talking directly to the person who stole his life, even if it was an accidental acquisition.
He doesn’t even know if he can now but Tim is there. He might as well talk to him.
“You’re Tim right. The name’s Ben nice to well… see you. I guess we have already met.”
He was nervous. Desperately trying to keep himself together, Tim doesn’t deserve his anger after all. He is as much of a victim as he is.
Still the illogical part of his brain wanted to be furious with him. Wanted to scream and curse him out for all of eternity.
Therefore the smile on his face was more a war between the part of him that wanted to get to know Tim and the other that was just angry for the sake of it.
Thankfully as Tim spoke it was easier to let his anger subside. It was hard to be furious at someone that seemed so genuinely kind after all.
“Hi Ben. Is this your creation?”
“Yep, it's mine and my sister’s room from before… the accident.” It was hard to stay positive at the thought of that day.
Just thinking about it brought his parent’s screams flooding back into his ears as the bullets that stole their lives rang out.
“It’s cool, I like it. However, do you want to come into mine? There’s more space.”
Tim stumbled over his words a bit and it helped Ben to feel more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
So he gave a small nod and followed Tim down the ladder and through the cupboard into what felt like a whole other world.
It was clearly a bedroom, what with there being a bed. But there were posters everywhere, washing scattered across the floor and pictures laying around near a camera.
It was clearly Tim’s even though it was nothing like Tim’s room at the Manor. Though this was quickly cleared up.
“This was my room at Drake Manor, it would have been yours if I was never created.”
“Nope it wouldn’t have been. Believe me if I had my own room it would have never looked like this. This is yours Tim, our entire life is yours so stop being depressing.”
Ben didn’t mean to come off harshly. But it was true everything that was his was actually Tim’s. He was just trying to make Tim’s face stop falling.
“I guess you have a point.” A smile reached Tim’s lips again so Ben must have said something right, “I am really sorry by the way, it wasn’t fair of me to ask you to pretend to be me.”
Well how was he supposed to reply to that? He went through the statement over and over again, trying to find the best response as Tim flopped onto his bed.
“It… it isn’t a big deal and it's kind of needed so I don’t mind. But if you want to make up for it could you ask Bruce to get me my own phone?”
“Sure, any excuse to spend B’s money. Still you are allowed to use the one we already have if you want.”
Tim didn’t understand where Ben was coming from, he couldn’t really. Everything that he classed as theirs was really just his. They may be both going through the same thing but they are experiencing it differently.
“Sure I can, I already do. But that phone isn’t ours, it's yours. It’s set up by you for you. I can barely navigate it.”
Sure enough Tim has never thought about it like that before. He just assumed that Ben would be comfortable using his stuff and left it at that.
Despite Tim beating himself up for the assumption, Ben knows he meant well and that was enough for him.
The pair talked for a bit. Neither of them were sure on how long they spent together, time works weirdly in the inner world.
At least Ben was right, he was in his own mind, deep inside of him a mini-version of him was preening about being like Emmet.
The more adult version of him was embarrassed by not realising that the scene in the Lego Movie was essentially like the memory palace technique that his teachers always went on about.
Still you live and you learn. The universe hasn’t ended yet.
Eventually Ben found himself relaxing into the conversation. He didn’t feel like he had to be on edge around Tim and mental walls decided to let his headmate through. They share a brain they might as well feel comfortable around one another.
They complained about Sandy and came up with increasingly more hilarious ways to torture her. Ben told Tim about his parents and in return Tim told Ben about his.
Janet and Jack didn’t seem like the world’s best parents but the way Tim spoke about them made it hard to deny that they loved Tim, and for that Ben was glad. They may have had a funny way of showing it, but Tim felt loved.
Far too soon the conversation shifted to how they leave the inner world. Tim tries to explain that it's supposed to be like going to sleep and waking up back in reality through some questionable descriptions.
Still it must have worked because when Tim closed his eyes he fell back onto his bed, seemingly sleeping and no amount of shaking could wake him.
Ben was back to being alone again.
Though the open laptop laying on Tim’s still unorganised desk had flickered on. The monitor displayed what looked like the real world.
Excited, he scrambled over to it, unmuting the speakers and letting Tim’s voice flood through as he spoke to Jason about something to do with spending Bruce’s money. Referencing what could have only been Ben’s own want for some of his own things.
So maybe he wasn’t alone anymore.
Sitting in Tim’s reconstruction of his old room, the cupboard door still open revealing Ben’s old bedroom, Ben couldn’t help but think that everything was going to be okay.
For once the world didn’t feel like it was collapsing around him.