Trying To Find Air to Breathe Again

I'm writing this Falling Skies fanfiction because I'm in love with Ben Mason. He's my favorite character on the show and I just can't seem to find any other fanfictions that blow my skirt up, you know what I mean? There just aren't any that I particularly enjoy so I decided to write my own. Emerson Teller is of my own creation and any other characters mentioned do not belong to me.

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I Love the Way That Your Heart Breaks

She'd been staring at him for at least the last six months and she knew that he knew that she stared. She couldn't help it. Human beings were creatures who wanted to capture and possess beauty so it was no wonder she stared at him. He stood out in a crowd due to his height. His dirty blonde hair used to curl around his ears but he'd kept it short so he didn't have to deal with it. She imagined running her fingers through it when she found her mind drifting. His sea green eyes penetrated everyone who could meet his gaze. They were deep and fathomless and held great sorrows within their depths. He'd suffered after this invasion and you could easily see it in his eyes. He'd had to grow up too fast and it was obvious in the lines of his face and in the shadows of his eyes.

His face had narrowed in the two and a half years that she'd known of him and yet he still possessed a hint of baby fat in his cheeks. His lower lip was full and slightly crooked against his upper lip and she dreamed of biting it in the throes of passion. His neck was long and narrow and she could just feel the columns of his throat working beneath the pads of her fingers. His shoulders were broad and strong and she could easily see the muscles of his back working beneath his clothes. Her favorite part of him was his hands. She loved to watch them flex against the heavy metal of his rifle when he was waiting to go on a mission with the rest of the Second Mass battalion. She could tell just from staring at them that they were rough and strong and would feel spectacular skimming the length of her back.

She sighed and forced herself to look away from him before she got caught. She knew he wasn't fond of her staring. He probably contributed it to the spikes that ran the length of his spine. He probably assumed that she thought he was disgusting and didn't deserve to be a part of their group. If anything his spikes made him more beautiful to her. It proved that he had survived a terrible experience that so other few had survived. It proved that he was a fighter. She admired him for that.

She rolled her neck along her shoulders and gathered her stack of ragged books and headed to her makeshift classroom. Emerson Teller had been just barely 18 and a freshman and Boston College when the aliens, or skitters as they were so intelligently named, invaded the world. She'd found refuge with the Second Mass and had quickly been given the title of English Teacher when Colonel Weaver learned of her English Education major. It didn't matter that she'd barely started her degree. Tom Mason and Colonel Weaver both agreed that education was something that needed to continue in their post-apocalyptic world.

Emmy kept mostly to herself. She did her job and helped in other areas when she was needed. She spent what little free time she had either safely scouting for usable books or getting to know Lourdes. They had become fast friends after learning that both of them had lost their entire family in the invasion. It helped that Lourdes was also thrust into a career path she'd only just started to understand.

Emerson had grown up around the Boston area with her parents and younger sister. She had been at school when the aliens came. Her sister had been in fifth grade when it happened. She'd be 12 now. She found her parents dead when the group had managed to cross through her neighborhood. They were in the kitchen. It looked like they'd been surprised in the house. It helped her cope to know that they died quickly. Her sister Carrie was still missing. A part of her hoped that she wasn't harnessed but a bigger part of her knew that she more likely than not was.

It had been almost three years since it happened and she was just trying to live this new life that she'd been thrust into. Having boys like Ben Mason to look at and daydream about was a new perk to her life.

She remembered when he had first come to camp. Everyone was in an uproar because Tom Mason, their unofficial leader, had finally found his missing son with a group of harnessed kids and they were going to try to remove the harnesses. Ever since she'd first seen Ben, she couldn't stop dreaming about him.

He was 16 when they first found him and it'd been a year and a half since then. He'd grown into a strong and gorgeous teenager that she couldn't stop thinking about. It didn't matter that he was younger than her. Hal was into Maggie and she had at least five years on him.

She shook her head and left the room, continuing down the hall to retrieve more books from what was left of the small library down the hall. She felt someone come up beside her and sighed. "You were staring again." She glanced over at her friend. Lourdes was just as tall as her and almost as shy. Lourdes had been with the second Mass longer though and knew more people by name.

Lourdes was beautiful in an exotic way. She had a thin face and a dark complexion with shiny brown hair that fell down her back in waves and ended just at her waist. She was incredibly intelligent and was one of the only people who Emerson could have a full and comprehensive conversation with. She was also the only person who knew about Emerson's fascination with the middle Mason son.

"I'm always staring. It's not like it's a new thing." She whispered, glancing around. She wanted to make sure that none of the Masons were around. For some reason, she didn't want any of them to know that she had a thing for Ben but Tom already knew.

It had happened a week and a half ago. Emerson had attempted to hold a makeshift Parent/Teacher conference for the ten or so kids that she actually taught. Only two couples appeared and one dad for his son and two mothers for their children. It pained Emerson to realize how many parents were actually dead when half of her students didn't have either parent to represent them.

She had shaken the morbid thoughts from her mind though when, ten minutes before she was getting ready to close up shop, Tom Mason walked through her door and smiled at her. "I hope I'm not too late." He said as he carefully positioned his lanky frame in the middle school sized plastic chair. Emerson smiled and shook her head, sitting down herself and passing him a tattered folder containing Matt's work.

She sat silently for a few minutes while Tom glanced over his youngest child's progress. She thought back to the day almost two years ago when she had become a part of the Second Mass. She had been hiding in her old home just outside of Boston. It was dark and cold and she didn't know when she had last eaten. She hadn't heard him come up behind her let alone into the house. She remembered bits and pieces from that night. Tom told her a few days later as she recovered in the hospital that she had been delirious with dehydration and starvation.

Emerson had recounted for him how she'd traveled from school to her home just as soon as she'd been able. It didn't take her long to get home and rush inside only to find her parents dead and her sister gone. She'd been so lost in her grief that she couldn't bring herself to do anything but huddle up into a ball in her old room and wait for the inevitable.

Ultimately, Tom had interfered and taken her back to the Second Mass where she'd recovered and quickly became a member of the group if not a quiet one. It wasn't for several more months that Weaver noticed her love of books.

Every time they had to move, if she saw a book lying in the road or within her reach, no matter how big or small or how dirty and worn, she'd snatch it up and bury it within the confines of her backpack. After seeing her pick up at least a dozen books, he'd asked her what she intended to do with them. She stared him straight in the eyes and said, "Read them." He smiled and shook his head before approaching Tom.

"She was an English Education major with a minor in Writing before the invasion." Tom told him. Weaver smiled. "Where'd she go to school?" Tom shifted his gaze in thought. "Boston College. She was half way through her freshman year when we were attacked." Weaver nodded again and rubbed his hand over his chin in thought. Tom drew his eyebrows together. "What are you thinking, Dan?"

The Colonial met Tom's eyes and licked his lips. "You and I both know how important education is and it's even more important now more than ever." Tom nodded, catching onto his line of thought. "With her English background, she could easily step in as an English teacher to help these kids learn something." Tom smiled. "And you and I both know, Tom, how unnoticed she goes. If she teaches these kids, it'll be a way for her to become a bigger part of Second Mass. She'll be more than just a civilian."

"Well, Dan, let's bring it up to her and see how she takes it." Needless to say, Emerson had been thrilled at the prospect of having something to do. Before their proposition, she'd done little more than sit in the corners and flip through the dirty pages of the books she'd discovered. She couldn't say yes fast enough. It didn't take long for her to settle into a groove with the teacher responsibility. Parents had been eager to send their children back to school if only for a few hours to remove their minds from the imminent threat that was an ever constant reminder of the world they no longer lived in.

She was shaken out of her reverie when Tom closed Matt's folder and rested it on the edge of her desk. "Is he doing okay, Emmy?" Tom Mason had quickly become like a second father to her. He'd taken her under his wing when he'd found her and he'd helped her adjust to life within the Second Mass.

He was easy to get along with and she adored his compassion and strength during the long months that Ben was missing. She'd watched him cry in desperation and rejoice when there was a sighting of his middle child. She'd witnessed his sadness first hand when he realized that Ben wouldn't be the same after the harness was removed.

"He's come a long way since he first started coming here but I'm a little concerned with his…extra-curricular activities." She wanted to broach the subject lightly but she had no intention of not broaching it at all. Tom smiled stiffly and ran his open palms over the tops of his thighs. "I'm aware of his proclivities for John Pope and his band of misfits and I've addressed the situation with Pope on more than one occasion." Emerson nodded and folded her hands on top of her desk.

"I'm glad that you're aware of the situation. I'm just concerned that it will only grow to the point where he begins missing class. He hasn't yet but his work is suffering if you didn't already notice." She gestured toward the folder on the edge of her desk and Tom nodded. "I did indeed." She smiled thinly. "Well, I've informed him of what will happen if he doesn't bring up his grade but he doesn't seem to care like the other students. Part of me is afraid that our personal relationship gets in the way of him seeing me as an authority figure."

Tom smiled. Emerson had easily become a member of his family. Hal treated her like a sister as did Matt. He noticed she didn't spend as much time with Ben and at first he thought it had to do with the spikes on his back. He never would have thought that Emerson was shallow enough to let the spikes on his sons back bar her from getting to know him.

Tom had caught her staring on several occasions and once intended to confront her but he'd stopped himself and watched her face. She was blushing when she watched Ben. He looked at the young woman that had quickly become a part of his family and saw her in a whole new light. She was watching Ben like one would watch a sunset. She was infatuated with him.

Tom changed his mind and decided not to say anything to Emerson about his knowledge of her infatuation with his son. He wanted to save that for a later date.

"Don't let it get to you, Emmy. Matt loves you and has told me on more than one occasion that you can be pretty scary when you turn on your teacher voice." Emerson laughed and pushed an errant strand of hair out of her face. "Well, thank you, Tom, for coming in to talk to me. I know how busy you can get." Tom nodded and stood up, preparing to leave but not quiet finished talking.

"You know, Emerson, if you actually spoke to Ben instead of staring at him he'd be a little less hostile towards you." Emerson froze and blinked at him like a deer caught in the headlights. The color drained from her face and she brought one hand up to her mouth. Tom would have laughed if the sight wasn't so heart wrenching. "Emerson, it's okay." She shook her head violently back and forth before collapsing back into her desk chair.

"Oh, my God." She rested her elbows on her knees and hid her face in her hands. She heard Tom sit in the chair across from her. "Emerson…" She brought one hand up and in front of her, silencing him. It was several more minutes before she looked up at him. "You knew?" He smiled gently and nodded. "Yes." She whimpered and clenched her eyes shut, shaking her head.

"I can't believe I was that obvious." Tom chuckled lightly. "Emerson, it's really not that big of a deal." She nodded. "Yes, yes it is because now he knows that I stare at him and he probably thinks I'm a freak." Tom scoffed and stood, coming around the edge of the desk and kneeling in front of her, taking both of her hands in his. "Emerson, Ben doesn't think you're a freak but," He cocked his head to the left lightly. "I do think he would like an explanation as to why you stare at him. He tends to jump to conclusions and probably doesn't think it's for the same reason that I do." She laughed tightly.

"Ever since he first got to camp, I can't help but look at him." Tom blinked and allowed her continue. He had no idea that her infatuation started over a year ago. He was aware of the age difference but Hal had Maggie and they were several more years apart that Ben and Emerson. In a world like theirs, finding love was like finding an angel in hell. He wouldn't stop anyone from finding it.

"He was so…beautiful." She couldn't believe she was saying this to Tom of all people. The biological father of the boy she was in love with. Yes, she was in love with him. He was beautiful and broken and mended and missing parts of himself that he'd never get back but that's was made him wonderful. He'd survived a massive trauma and was stronger for it even if parts of him were gone forever, he'd found a part of himself he never would have otherwise.

"I don't make a habit of staring at ugly things. Ben has held my attention like no one before him and it kills me inside that I can't gather the courage to speak to him." Tom tightened his hands on hers. If only Ben knew the reason for why she stared at him but Tom knew it wasn't his place to tell him. Emerson had to do that herself.

"I'm sorry." Tom brought a hand up to her face and stroked her cheekbone. "Emmy," She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill over at any second. "We don't chose who we fall in love with." That did it. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she shook her head, blinking the rest away. "You'll have to tell him eventually." Tom whispered before standing. She nodded and wiped at her cheeks. "Make it sooner rather than later, Emerson."

He made to leave the room but turned back to look at her. "If you don't say anything, he'll only grow to dislike you more than he already does." Emerson flinched. Tom sure didn't pull any punches. "He assumes you stare for the wrong reasons. Don't let him assume for too much longer."

Tom had said that to her a week and a half ago and she still hadn't said anything to Ben. A few days after that conversation, Tom had given her a stern look when Ben had sneered rather viscously at her as he passed. Since then, she'd been avoiding both Tom and Ben and as an extension, the other Mason boys and Anne. All this avoiding was getting exhausting and she was almost tempted to say something to Ben. Almost being the key word.

Lourdes sighed and placed a gently hand on her arm, stopping her in the hallway. "Emerson, I'm not sure why you're so hesitant to inform Ben of your infatuation with him," She opened her mouth to speak but Lourdes held up a hand, cutting her off. "But you'll never know what would happen until you say something." Emerson looked down and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

If she was honest, she didn't know why she never said anything to Ben. He was beautiful and he captured her with it but whenever he was around, her mouth went dry and her vocal chords froze. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't speak around him.

She looked up at Lourdes and smiled thinly. "I don't know either, Lourdes. It's an unexplainable reaction that prevents me from speaking to him. I'll just have to be content with watching him from afar." Lourdes gave her a pitying smile before nodding and turning around, back to the infirmary.

Emerson turned and entered the small library where only a sad number of books were still kept. The space had been transformed from a useless storage closet to a makeshift library when they'd first set up camp in Charleston. They'd put her books that she'd collected in alphabetical order along the rusty metal storage shelves and she smiled at their familiar and dusty spines.

There were five rows on either side of the closet and a meager number of books occupied each shelf. There were more than she could have ever hoped for but less than she would have liked to have had. It made her happy that they'd been able to find a worn out box set of the Harry Potter series and she'd read it every year since they'd found it. The Tell Tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe was amongst the few titles along with Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet and To Sir with Love. A few of her own personal books were among the collection including Gone with the Wind, Friday Night Lights, Dracula and Grimm's Collection of Fairy Tales.

She was so preoccupied with collecting her books that she didn't hear him come up behind her. She stacked three of the smaller books in her hands and turned to go but ran straight into his hard chest. The books fell from her hands and she looked up. His deep green eyes cut right through her and pinned her in place. The glare marring his features turned him ugly and she looked down at her fallen possessions. What he said next caught her off guard. "Why do you always stare at me?"