GUILTY BENNY POST LETS GO
OK SO LIKE. Lowkey. This is my third attempt at writing this post. The first attempt felt too retrospective about Benny’s character as a whole, then the second attempt just turned into the outline of a fic. Which. Good for me for subconsciously tricking myself into doing it guess.
SO I’m really determined to coherently write my thoughts about Benny feeling guilty about shooting the courier while realizing he’s developing feelings for them. (Heavily influenced by actual story beats my own courier oc Reyna has with him (and lowkey obligatory fic plug if you wanna see more guilt ridden benny check out this fic))
This was asked by some folks from this piece i did! I wasn't expecting the feedback to be so positive, i appreciate all the nice tags!! Thanks for giving me an excuse to ramble lmao. OK LET'S DO THIS
Post edit: IM BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING. Whatever. Go my fic outline
Now, as a preface, in my head I see Benny going through like. The five stages of grief before realizing and accepting that he has feelings for the courier. So even then, that takes a while. I think he realizes that he feels guilty before he realizes his feelings, but both occur roughly at the same time. Best combo the universe could inflict on him honestly.
I don’t think he recognizes the feeling at first. He hasn’t felt guilt in years. Not since becoming the chieftain of the chairmen. At least not real gut-wrenching remorse. And believe me when I say it’s gut-wrenching.
When he gets that feeling, at that point he’s seen how much of a killing machine the courier is. So, he misinterprets that guilt as fear.
So when he wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, he thinks he’s having nightmares of the courier finally coming to their sense and killing him. He rarely remembers them. (They’re mostly not about that.)
After a few of these nightmares, he tries to keep courier six at arm's length. This lasts for about a day. The day after the courier asks Benny to accompany them on a job, he says yes on instinct, kicking himself almost immediately afterwards. They revert to their usual banter afterwards. It’s hard not to talk to someone you’re alone with for days.
It’s when he remembers one of these nightmares does he suspect that maybe they're not fear based. It’s one of the nicer ones. It starts off with him dancing with the courier. Ever since seeing them sway to a song on the radio, he’s wanted to take their hands in his and dance. It’s nice, even if he knew he would never do this. Or that they would ever accept the offer.
While having each other's back in a fight is one thing, dancing with the man who put you five feet under is another. Still, having the courier in his arms, swaying slowly to the music, their breath in sync…
it’s really nice. In this fake reality, he can admit that much.
Wanting to further indulge this fantasy, he starts to turn the courier’s face towards his. Just to look at them. Without the worry of them noticing.
It’s when their leaning against the palm of his hand does he notice the bleeding bullet wound on their temple. The liquid that drips to his hand feels real. The heaviness of their body going limp in his arms feels even more tangible.
That gut-wrenching feeling is back again. His quickening heartbeat sounds almost like rapid gunfire.
He realizes now why the night sky looks so familiar, why it smells like freshly turned dirt, why there’s a smoking gun in his shaking hand.
His ears start ringing. Above it, he sees the courier’s lips start to move out of the corner of his vision. Through the beating of his heart and the gunshots, the courier’s voice cuts clean through them. “Benny,” they say.
“Benny,” they repeat. They keep repeating his name, faster with each instance. The cacophony turns into a blaring yell of pain. He can’t tell which one of them is screaming.
He wakes up. He’s drenched in sweat, heart pounding against his ribcage.
This isn’t fear.
Benny doesn’t address it, nor does he bring it up. What good would that do, really?
Before, he would joke about how thick-headed the courier was, how their head was scrambled, how it was fitting that death followed in their wake. He doesn’t anymore.
When he realizes his feelings later down the line, he feels even worse. An onslaught of disgust and self-hatred cascade on him after this realization. Who the hell is he to fall for them? What right does he have?
This time, Benny successfully distances himself from courier six. His charming front is more forced, more evasive. Despite the look Swank gives him, Benny tells him to turn the courier away if they ask for him. He makes himself busy around Vegas just to avoid them. Funny that this is what makes him spiral into work.
If the courier asks him to accompany them for a job, he intends to say no. Really. But when the courier finally – for the second time – tracks him down, he can’t say no. Not when they smile at him like that.
It’s awkward. Benny won’t look at their face. In lieu of being somewhat genuine with them, he’s reverted to his smarmy front. He doesn’t really talk. Sure, he responds to the courier, but he isn’t saying of substance.
The courier notices all of this. They don’t bring it up. Benny isn’t sure whether to be grateful or disappointed.
The courier finally speaks up when Benny gets shot during a gunfight.
They interrogate him while treating his wound, effectively cornering him. They (softly) tear him a new one, throwing question after question at him while Benny silently lets himself get treated.
Despite the gnawing guilt, he enjoys the closeness. He still ignores the glare the courier shoots at him.
He would wonder why they care if he gets hurt or not, but he knows how much of a bleeding heart they are. They can’t help but care. Even when they really shouldn’t.
Benny doesn’t say anything after their onslaught of questions finishes. The courier waits exactly a minute before letting their glare drop. Seeing that interrogation isn’t getting them anywhere, they take Benny’s hand in theirs. He starts, but still doesn’t look at them.
Softer this time, they tell him that they don’t know what he’s going through, but they're there if he wants to talk. It’s easier to tackle an issue with someone rather than alone.
Deep down, Benny knows that this won’t last. He can’t keep avoiding them if he’s going to take over Vegas. The courier has become an essential player in the scheme of things, and this silent treatment is only going to deter that plan.
That, and – god, who is he fooling – Benny misses them.
Still not getting a reaction, the courier begins unclasping their hand from his, but Benny finally intertwines their hands. It’s a silent plea to not let go. To not leave.
It’s selfish, he knows. But what is he if not selfish?
But the courier doesn’t pull back. They just sit with him.
He’s still turned away from them. He can’t look at them. Not yet.
“I –” For the first time in a long time, his voice wavered. He gulps, then grins. “You should’ve said something if you missed me this much, baby.”
Benny doesn’t see the exasperated, relieved grin on their face. The punch to his arm is more comforting than painful.
Gradually, things return to normal. He doesn’t avoid them, and their banter returns. They seem closer, Benny and the courier. The bridge he tried to burn is rebuilt stronger, mostly in part of one determined courier.
When Swank asks if he should still turn the courier away with a knowing glint in his eye, Benny tells him to get bent with a slight grin. The chairmen collectively sigh in relief.
Benny doesn’t act on his feelings right away. The gut-wrenching guilt won’t just go away because of a simple interaction. But if he wants to keep the courier in his life, no matter how long they’re in it, he’ll learn to live with it. These feelings he has will be there when he’s ready. Or when he's gotten too impatient with himself. Whichever comes first.
