At some point after Mina saw him at Open Mic Night -- not the same day, and not even the day after, but not long from then -- Ben got himself in a whole shitload of trouble. Like, 'throwing-molotovs-into-a-police-station-and-pulling-a-gun-on-a-cop' trouble. Fortunately for Ben, he has Yossarian, who scratched at Mina's door until she allowed him to fill her in on the primary details. A call to the police station would find that he is indeed being held in custody there, and the bail is /substantial/. Like, possibly more money than Mina would be able to cough up, truth be told.
There's a lot of frowning from Mina as Yossarian catches her up on the details of Molotov Night. Temple rubbing. Sighing. This continues when she calls the police station, though she uses her very best polite and sweet voice the whole time. And then? Then it's a matter of weaponizing the fact that she's a pretty white girl. It involves wiping away her own hangover for the first time in far too long, in loosely pulling her hair back. It means sliding on a pretty white sundress that is both conservative and shows her lovely curves. It means being willing to drain her own funds to the point where making rent at the end of the month will be an iffy thing. And it involves jotting down the number of a bail bondsman. All these things don't take long, and Yossie is welcome to stay in her apartment.
When Mina arrives to the police station, she has her very best smile on her face, and a look of wide-eyes. She doesn't have to pretend like this is her first time doing this, seeking to get someone out of jail. She doesn't have to fake that slight edge of nervousness, at what she'll find.
Mina is smart, of course. Even just the hold in the police station has a dress code for visitors. Ben has not been transferred /anywhere/, and isn't going to be, due to some major mishaps...which maybe he'll tell Mina about, if he's in his right mind. Big IF there. But Mina will have to go through various detectors, get pat down (don't worry, this isn't prison -- no strip search because she's wearing an underwire or something). She will have to show ID, natch, and she's told she gets 15 minutes, max. As for all the cops working at the station, well -- none of them say anything outright, but it's clear that none of them are very happy with Ben. To put it mildly.
Ben is being held in his own cell, wearing his clothing from that night -- the normal kind of Ben clothes, i.e. workshirt and jeans, except his appear to be all ripped and bloodied. When Mina finds him there, he is pacing back and forth...and back and forth...and back and forth...talking to himself, his face covered in bruises, at least one black eye. Bloodied lip. The cops can't see the lightning sparking wildly out from his form, of course, like someone's stuck a fork in a socket.
Mina is completely, and unerringly, polite to the cops in the station. There are pleases, and thank yous, and 'yes sir, I understand's. She never loses that wide eyed look, or the fact that sometimes she has to swallow her words. There's no weapon on her, and it is a blessing that the fact she's wearing an underwire doesn't result in a strip search. ID produced, without complaint. Not one negative word uttered, the whole while.
When she sees Ben in that cell, pacing and sparking, bloodied and bruised, there's a catching in her throat. "Oh, love," she says softly, like it breaks her heart to see him like this, and know that there's nothing she can do physically for him right now. She moves closer to the cell bars, wringing her own hands. It's only he that gets to see the spring storms brewing in her blue eyes.
Ben keeps pacing and talking and pacing until something finally catches his eye -- perhaps it's her Mantle, the scent she brings in with her -- and then he doesn't stop, although his gaze goes her way briefly, paranoid as all get out. He keeps pacing and talking and pacing and talking until eventually his pacing brings him closer to her, though he seems really alarmed, like he's not actually sure it's her. "Oh, yeah, okay, sure. Like that's actually Mina!" he shouts, though it doesn't really seem like he's shouting /at/ Mina, per se. His pacing becomes a small circle, which brings him back near her every time, unblinking blue-silver eyes on her as he continues to rant. "Gimme a break, John. I'm not gonna fall for that one again, you asshole."
A wince comes at that shout, even if it's not at her. It's still a small room, and his voice is a powerful thing, even when he isn't raising it. That look in his eyes, his words, they bring a frown to her lips, a tiny little wrinkle between her brows. "It's really me, Ceebee," she says, whisper soft. "The first time we went on an actual date, we barely made it back to your apartment. You played Suzanne for me, the first time you saw me dance. I don't know what else will convince you, but I only have fifteen minutes, and I can't make your bail by myself, I don't think, even though I drained out everything."
Ben keeps pacing, hands on hips, glowering at her, though he does eventually say -- after a long pause -- "John says it's really you, but he's a liar." He grunts. Maybe he remembers that night, and it pierces something in him, although it doesn't stop him from looking any less off his rocker. The lightning spikes at regular intervals in his eyes. "He's a fucking liar. What are you doing here, Mina, if it's really you?" Remember to blink, Ben, it's good for your eyes...but no, he's /really/ not into blinking right now. He has that wide-eyed, wild-eyed stare about him, which Mina has probably seen on occasion, though not for an extended period like this.
"I don't know who John is," Mina says quietly, "But he's not lying to you right now. Sorry. I know that probably doesn't help if you don't think it's really me." She moves closer to the bars, and that scent of foxglove and rain is thick in the air. Her own blue eyes watching him, as he paces, as he stares. She swallows, hard, before she continues. "Yossie came to my apartment - so he's safe. And I couldn't..." She trails off, briefly, then looks into that stare, despite how unhinged he looks right now. "I couldn't let you sit in here if I could help. I called a bondsman - if they let you out on bail, it should do it. I hope." She laughs, despite herself. "I've never done this before, so I don't know."
Ben just gets closer this time, momentarily stopping his pacing, although he does grip the bars with both hands exactly like he's seen too many prison movies. Which he probably has. He grits his teeth, somewhere between a sneer and a grin. "They are fucking /bastards/," he spits, almost literally -- hope you're not /too/ close, Mina. "They didn't read me my /fucking/ rights. John and I have been talking to lawyers. They can't hold me long, but that doesn't stop them from putting up a bail for me. Fucking bastards!" He kicks the bars with his construction boot, rattling them and starts yelling, "I HOPE THEY ALL FUCKING BURN -- WHEN THEY LET ME OUT I'M GONNA DO IT AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME?" One guesses the cops have just been ignoring him saying shit like this the whole time. It helps that he's in a cell that's more isolated from the other ones at the station.
Mina had been close, too close. She was in the process of lifting her hands to touch the backs of his fingers when he spits out those words, and it makes her stumble back a foot, look to him with wide eyes of panic and worry. "Whichever gets you out of here faster," she says in a whisper, voice cracking along the way. She's seen Ben on less than good days, but nothing like this. Not one time that's had her heartbeat going so frantically.
Lightning crackles over the concrete floor, dancing over his feet. Ben winces as it moves up his arms to his head, seeming to zot him for a moment. He had backed up himself, putting a hand on the back wall like he can't believe he's actually in here. Then he returns to the bars where Mina is, a look of clear distress on his face. "Mina-I-have-to-get-out-of-here-I-can't-take-it-it's-killing-me," he spews, in a stream of words contained by a sob, though he isn't actually crying. No tears run down his cheeks, but his face is red like he is crying, and his breath comes very hard. "John says I deserve it for getting caught and he's going to tell the Hell Dog and I can't -- I can't face that right now..."
It all shows on Mina's face - concern, fear, and helplessness. Did the cops tell her no touching? Not to reach through the bars? If they did, it doesn't matter right now. She does it, until she can play her hand against his face. "I'll call Basil. He can get me the money to put up your bail," she says with certainty. "I..." She'll owe a Deity of Time and Money a favor, but there's no hesitation. "I'll get you out. I'll do everything that I can to get you out of here." Her pulse is racing, and he gets a hit of it - desperation, so sweet - as she looks into his eyes.
We'll say she gets away with it -- for now. Maybe not for long. His face feels very warm to the touch, yet also clammy. His wild eyes crackle, but he doesn't shy from her touch. "Who's Basil? He's not one of Them, is he? Don't let Them know," he whispers. Is he referring to the Gentry, or something -- someone -- else? Hard to say. He actually wets his lips at the 'taste' of that desperation, though he surely gets his fair share of it here in jail. "You don't have to help me. You shouldn't help me. John's gonna tell the Hell Dog and it'll all be too late." He's whispering now, continuing not to blink, but it's more of a stage whisper. He crashes forward, pressing his face right up through the bars, staring at Mina like he's about to explode into a shower of sparks. "If the Hell Dog finds out, he will bring /my father./"
"He's not one of Them," Mina assures, putting the right emphasis on Them. "I won't let Them know. I promise." She takes in a breath, and holds that eye contact, as if she's trying to anchor him with her will alone. "I don't have to help you, no. But here I am. I'm not going to leave you in here, not like this. I'm not going to let you..." And then he crashes forward, and it takes all that the little succuflower has not to scream, or jump back, or have a minor heart attack right there. "Yeah, well, Hell Dog and your father will have to get through me first," she says solemnly. "Before that, I'm getting you out of here, Ben."
"Please don't let him find out!" Ben begs, and now he actually is crying. But these seem like tears of fear, not anguish. He is very, very afraid. He wipes his sweaty palms on his dirty jeans and backs away into a corner, curling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, where he begins to rock. As it so happens, Mina only has a few minutes left to the visit, anyway. But still...
"I won't," she says, more solemnly than she's ever sounded. "I will do everything I can, to keep him from doing so." When he backs into that corner, goes down to the floor to wrap arms around knees, she crouches down. "I'll be right on the other side of the doors, until I can get you out. Right there," she says with a point of finger, to the door she entered from. "We'll get you home. Yossie's waiting for you." Rising up, so that she's closer to the door when the officer comes for her.
And here the officer comes, raising eyebrows at the sight of Ben in the corner like that -- though she's probably used to it by now. The officer is a stocky woman with dirty blond hair and little tolerance for bullshit. "Time's up." Short and to the point. Not overly pushy, just brusque.
Ben was looking at Mina for one last time before she stood. His eyes were wide, but there's something grateful in them. Maybe there's a /little/ of his more balanced self in there, somewhere, that can see her. As soon as the officer comes in, though, he buries his head on his knees and rocks harder.
"Of course," Mina says, in that polite tone, to the officer that comes through. "Thank you." She gives one last look to Ben, even as he buries his head. Looking helpless, for the moment that he's not looking at her, and the officer is. She doesn't stall, though. Or complain about only getting fifteen minutes with their prisoner. She just goes through the door, and once she can, she's calling Basil to arrange for the bail money that her own meager funds come no where close to reaching.
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