Chapter Text
Ben doesn't tell anyone about the dreams. Mostly because he can't remember them. In the moment, he understood this was something he'd seen play out a thousand times before, but in the morning, stuck with nothing but sweaty palms and an unease beating in his chest, Ben seemed to have trouble recalling, or even articulating what it was exactly that left him feeling so unsteady.
After eventually finishing with his tent yesterday, Ben treaded over to where everyone was, trying not to kick dirt everywhere with the way he was sullenly dragging his feet behind him. It was night. After spending practically the entire day trying to stop his tent from being blown over by the faintest of breezes Ben was simply too exhausted to stay angry. What had felt like an unbearable itch he couldn't shake off simmered down like the way magma dried into stone.
Grandpa Max had smiled at him, offering a stick of marshmallow. It was a pleasant surprise, despite his earlier mood. He assumed Grandpa would have given him the roasted carcass of some foreign alien organ he's never heard of before to be honest, but this was just marshmallows. Ben swallowed a lump in his throat at the sight, some strange, confusing emotion he didn't want to name bubbling to the surface.
Gwen had some lingering tension in her shoulders too, but as she leaned against Kevin as they watched the crackling fire, she began to look more relaxed. The sight was sickeningly romantic, and if Ben wasn't so busy brooding he would have been making faces at it by now. Just to get her to laugh. She took a glimpse of his tent--the half collapsed, sorry thing it was, and rolled her eyes fondly.
"Where would you be without me, honestly?" She said, waving a hand. Ben watched as the tent began to neatly rearrange itself under the influence of Gwen's mana, and what took him hours to build became fixed within seconds.
Ben flushed. "Thanks." He said. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, wondering whether or not he should apologize for what he said in the van, but it was Gwen who ended up bridging the gap between them first.
"I'm sorry." She said, surprising him. "You and Kevin were joking, and I didn't mean to..." She trailed off, before shaking her head. "I shouldn't have made something out of nothing." She smiled depreciatingly. "Obviously you guys are fine with each other, right?" Kevin and Ben shot a glance at each other.
Well, when he made the joke, he thought things had been that way. But Kevin's brief look of guilt still flashes through his mind sometimes, spearing through whatever assumption he made like a fork. Whatever vision Ben had constructed of what they had been like had been made out of paper, and he never realized until it was crumbling apart in his fingers. Were they? Maybe only Kevin knew.
"Um, yeah." Ben finally said, nodding when he saw Kevin nodding at him first.
Gwen slumped, sighing. "I shouldn't have imposed."
"I shouldn't have brought it up anyway." He said lamely, wiping his sweaty hands against his jeans so they'd stop feeling so sticky. "It was dumb. We were children."
And that was that. The tension released from their shoulders. He was glad they could all talk it out like adults do, but Ben wonders if it came down to it he would have the courage to bring it up the same way Gwen did. He's kind of envious of her, in that way. She seemed to possess the maturity he lacked to breach those awkward but necessary conversations.
And of course they still cared about him, he thought, feeling the shame curl hot inside his gut. He tries focusing on spining his marshmallow. It's not like they've left for good. He's still a part of their life. They're still a part of his. Gwen must have felt as uncomfortable as he had. The last time they've been here had been years ago.
Grandpa Max made no indication to have heard their little exchange, and began a little anecdote of his own, which led them right into a story Ben vaguely thinks he's heard before, but had forgotten enough details about it that it hadn't mattered. Ben felt his shoulders gradually slump.
It was going to be okay. It didn't start very great, but no one brought up his comment in the van again. At best they'd forgotten about it, which Ben doubts, but at the very least he knew they didn't want to talk about it as much as Ben didn't want to talk about it.
If Ben could stop picking apart every little interaction, or non-interaction, he mused to himself as he drifted off to sleep that night, then this trip would have been enjoyable for all parties included. He whipped out his phone purely on impulse, instinctively trying to send Rook a goodnight text. His finger hovered over the send button as his brain caught up to what he was doing.
"Right." Ben muttered outloud, turning off his phone and collapsing back onto his bedroll. "No service."
He could hear the crickets out here. And the owls. And the wolves. Everyone's played their parts on being normal so far; it's Ben who keeps walking out of sync. At any rate, he'd get left behind unless he hopped on the same wavelength. Normal, normal, normal. That's what he's been repeating to himself so much lately. But as he closed his eyes surrendered to his dreams, he belatedly realized he still had no idea what that was supposed to sound like.
Grandpa Max took them fishing next morning. Ben thought he woke up a little later than the standard time meant for fishing, but no one seemed to mind. That was how the first few days flew by anyway. Ben didn't spend as much time fishing as he spent skinny dipping with Kevin, and whenever it rained, spent more time trying to throw mud at Gwen than trying to seek out shelter. It wasn't like he didn't have any fun at all, which is what made it so damning when he abruptly came to realize the parts he dreaded the most would also be the parts everyone else enjoyed all the more.
Ben could chalk it up to his youthful spirit. That's what he likes to think is the case--he reason why he couldn't stand sitting around the campfire at night roasting s'mores and sharing stories. Only adults get nostalgic enough to enjoy that shit. And Ben's a pretty tough guy. He lives the hardcore life--bashing evil alien's head in all the time, and just talking feels boring.
But maybe it's not only that, Ben frowned, dusting the hot embers of the campfire off his pants before they caught on fire. Gwen, and Kevin, and Grandpa, his train of thought began, stiltedly, don't talk about things Ben would understand. But what the heck, they're normal things! Gwen speaks often of calculus and Grandpa Max of taxes and highschool crushes and internships and--that's not anything Ben has. Or knows.
He knows plenty about the Undercity. Tibbits of Rennovangander culture from the snippets of Rook's ramblings he bothered to pick up on. What flavours to chose from in Mr Smoothies (anything that isn't grape, of course). He knows intimately the powers and abilities of most alien species.
But that's not normal things a teenager should know. It's not like that'll get him a highschool diploma. Or a job. And ultimately, everything he knows, no matter how he tries to spin it, ultimately lead back to the aliens and the Plumbers and everything that Grandpa Max didn't want this trip to be. Ben didn't know what to say. He feels stupid.
He feels less like a human when he sits down by that campfire and listens to Grandpa Max, Gwen, and Kevin share stories. More like an alien. It's unbearable.
The truth was, sometimes when they ate marshmallows around the fire like this, Ben could feel a part of himself boiling in rage. The tectonic plates shifted and grinded uncomfortably beneath his skin like an earthquake was inminent. You left me, it seeths when Max and Gwen and Kevin share a laugh over a topic he couldn't understand. This is what you've done. You've left me all alone. Now I can't understand you at all.
The thoughts always flash by faster than he could comprehend them, but ultimately they just leave him feeling vaguely sick. He would excuse himself to bed early, and he could tell himself that it was boring for how many times he wanted, but whatever bitter, dark part of him he keeps buried inside and Ben himself knew that he would have the same nightmare again relentlessly, that would make him sleep uneasily for the rest of the night.
He's not so angry all the time. Other times, his lack of comprehension just makes him desperately afraid. Or despairingly sad and lonely, take your pick. Gwen and Kevin are only really in it part time as they speak, and one day, they may quit all together. They'll have other things in their life too. Gwen is smart enough to graduate from university, maybe she'd get a job. Kevin's got a high school diploma at least, which is already a lot more than what Ben has. They've built so much of themselves beyond hero work, Ben realized, horrified, and Ben has nothing. Ben is nothing.
They stopped visiting the lake on the third day. "Look at those clouds." Grandpa Max had remarked, staring up at the sky with a faint frown on his face. "They're gathering up for a nasty storm." He commented. It was true. The sky was miserably grey. Ben feels like any moment now Vilgax would come flying 'cause this was the kind of weather he'd get during a boss fight. Gwen proposed they move somewhere sunnier to spend the rest of the trip. In the moment, Ben found himself nodding along because he knew it was the logical decision to make. If it was going to rain in this part of Bellwood, near the mountain and the trees, it could be very dangerous indeed. The arrangements were made. They pack up camp and move tomorrow, back inside that dreadful little van.
Even during the Incurseans's invasion, trapped in that little pod hurtling itself towards the void, it had never occured to Ben that he might be claustrophobic. But, within this trip alone, thinking back to the stuffy, suffocating tent he sleeps in every night, and the thick, overpowering walls of Grandpa Max's van, Ben thinks maybe he might be.
"But why did you choose to build your tent so far away from everyone else?" Gwen had asked him, the night before they left. Ben shrugged. He thought she knew.
"It's where the Omnitrix landed." He explained simply, as though it had been that easy to justify it to himself. Perhaps the explanation was adequate enough for her. It would be adequate enough for anyone really, but it hadn't really been for him. Ben couldn't help but feel like he had been expecting more from the moment he hammered down the first nail. He could perhaps guess what it might have been, if it came down to it, but give him a pen and Ben wouldn't know how to outline it beyond a few broad strokes. Ben kept unsticking his lips to see if he would be able to say more, but found he couldn't.
Gwen had nodded and moved along, saying something like 'goodnight', but Ben couldn't read her expression properly to tell for sure what she had been thinking.
Ben dreams of the tumultous weeks following what he thought had been his Grandpa's death. There had been a storm at one point...he remembers the soil, damp under his knees, Azmuth was there. The rain washed everything away, and the only glimpses of light he recieved was from lightning flashing across the sky.
He's afraid. He's so very afraid, but he can't recall what of. Azmuth held a hand out expectantly, saying nothing to him. Ben tries clasping his hand protectively over his wrist, "No, you can't have it, I don't want to give back the Omnitrix," but suddenly found he couldn't move it. He's strapped to Vilgax's machine, and he sees the brute's red piercing eyes looming over him, casting a shadow over everything. The metal was a shock of cold against his warm wrist, nearly feverish from his fluttering pulse, reminding Ben harshly he was alive, his hand was alive, but it wasn't going to be for much longer.
Ben wakes up to wind howling outside. The moment he registers the noise for what it was, he scrambles awake shivering, peering out of his tent flap.
Rain pelted the ground, the trees, the grass like bullets, the mountains from his childhood flickered in and out like a mirage in the distance. When he was younger Ben didn't think much about this kind of rain. In the safety of his home, behind the windows of Grandpa's van, nature's wrath felt unreachable; he would watch the waves of rain ripple gently across the rooftops and trees, white drops scattering and exploding endlessly with the wind against the vast expanse of the sky. If there wasn't Sumo Slammers or mountains of paperwork to sort through or logistics to figure out all the time, Ben thought, vaguely, the sight of it, the muffled sound of the chaos outside, was mesmerizing.
"Ben!" Grandpa Max shouts, "We need to go!"
Now, achingly aware of his heart beat in his chest, the uncomfortable heat and dampness of the atmosphere made itself known. As he frantically began grabbing whatever he could and stuffing it inside his backpack, the sweat on his back the wetness of the rain began melding into one. His hand kept slipping from the water, and he couldn't even hold onto his flashlight properly. There's a pain in his wrist; familiar in the way it makes him want to reach his fingers at it and press the dial to transform to relieve an itch, or maybe that had just been the aftershocks of his nightmare making itself known. For the next few minutes, that was how Ben spends his time: desperately clutching at his wrist, craddling it against his chest like it had been anything real, counting the sounds of his heartbeat through the deafening inferno outside.
The moment Ben emerges from the tent, the rain descended on him relentlessly, flattening his hair against his skull. He nearly slips on the grass and gets mud all over his face.
"Ben," Gwen called, breathless from running, "Why'd you build your tent so far away from everyone else's?" She complained fondly, a touch exasperated. Ben huffs a little laugh, shrugging in lieu of answering.
"Rain came a lot sooner than we expected." Kevin greeted grimly, catching up to them, drenched and shivering, arms tucked between his armpits. His limp, dark bangs plastered against his forehead like a wet dog. Ben would have laughed at how wrinkled and miserable he looked if he weren't in such a similar state. Gwen had a nice little mana shield hovered over her head, blocking out the rain as they quickly lined up and dashed to the van like tiny little toy soldiers.
"The campsite's ruined." Ben muttered forlornly from behind the window, the rain now softly plinking at the glass. It was raining so hard he couldn't even make out the individual raindrops on the windshield anymore, instead, they rippled on the glass pane like someone is pouring a bucket of water over the van.
"We've still other places to go." Grandpa Max consoled from over the driver's seat.
They drove past the lake; the one he spent all summer at when he was ten, the one he spent the past several days catching fish and playing in the mud.
They had made it a challenge at one point, to see if anyone could catch a fish with just their mouth. Grandpa didn't have the back for it anymore so he, with a little bit of reluctant fondness, became their referee.
Kevin had won in the end, surprisingly, or maybe un-surprisingly. Gwen gave up at one point and lifted every fish from the lake with her mana. Ben remembers surfacing from the water and seeing their little tails flick around in panic, water splashing down like a fountain from where Gwen had lifted them. It was impressive, but it also signaled the end to their little contest. He supposes, he's never realized how much his cousin had gotten stronger too.
And there had been nothing remarkable about Ben's perfomance, he recalled a little hollowly, he did his best and laughed, and he didn't catch a single one. He'd built up a bit of bulk compared to his younger years, sure, but compared to the hulking mass that was Kevin, Ben was absolutely nothing.
It had been the happiest Grandapa Max looked the entire trip though, laughing a full-bellied laugh when Gwen was gently reminded of their 'no powers, no alien hjinks' policy for this little impromptu vacation, and in her hastened embarassment, swiftly dumped all the fishes back into the lake, making the water go everywhere.
Kevin had chuckled wickedly, "No powers here. Just Kevin and his awesomeness." Then he disappeared under the water's surface and fished them enough fish for dinner.
Ben had only ever seen glimpses of that sort of look on Grandpa, flashes of it from whenever they sat by the campfire telling stories.
That's the core of it. Fuck, he doesn't know what he keeps freaking out for, practically spazzing out at nothing when this was the first time they've had in a while for themselves.
But sometimes when they'd gather around the campfire, and Grandpa Max would hand him a stick of toasted marshmallow, Ben finds he can't stop thinking. What is that, he wonders, Did he miss this, he thought, heart pounding, and was 'this', this petty little thing that has Ben's head spinning, even something to Grandpa in the first place?
"It's a shame," Ben lamented, forcing himself out of those thoughts before it became anything concrete enough for him to see, "I thought we'd at least get to swim more."
The lake was behind them by now, and from the last glimpse he had of it, the dam by it looked close to bursting. Water was already flooding its way up the forest, and although Ben distantly wondered of the wildlife, of what the birds, the squirrels, the foxes did when it rained like this, so small, so scared compared to humans, like the rain, those thoughts quickly washed away into indifference, and soon he forgot about it entirely. What a sad sight, he thought, perhaps this would be the last look he had of the lake entirely, and the next time he came here, the water would be different and replaced by the rainwater, and that lake would no longer be the lake of his childhood.
Kevin hummed an agreement. "Coulda' gotten more splashes in at ya'." He remarked. Ben thought of what to say to that, but turns out he must have spent too long thinking and missed his cue, because now it felt like it was too late to trade a quip back. And then they fell into silence.
Ben's brows furrowed in thought, still thinking of what to say. It was the awkward kind of silence, but it was also tense in the way he knew if it dragged on for any longer, would bring up something uncomfortable. "Do you guys..." He began haltingly, "Do you guys get weird dreams?" He nearly regrets bringing that up--it would only be a matter of time before his dreams came up, and Ben still hadn't even decided how he felt about them, let alone letting someone else in on the confusing cocktail that was his mind.
Gwen looked up from her magazine. Despite her hair being the longest, Gwen was the only one who bothered to dry their hair with a towel when they stepped on the van, and by now her hair was mostly dry. Ben was begining to regret...not doing that, he thought with a shiver.
"I guess I do." She responded, resting her chin on her hand in thought. "I think it kind of comes with using magic though. But I heard no matter how strange a dream is...it all means something." She finished conspirationally.
"I dreamt." Kevin piped up suddenly, like an overeager child, "I dreamt I was carrying like, crabs in my bag or something. I kept telling myself I mean to cook them, I mean, they were tied up and everything so they wouldn't pinch me," he rambled, "But I kept running around doing whatever the hell, I don't even remember, and then by the time I remembered, before I could do anything about it, I woke up."
Gwen rolled her eyes fondly. "You big dummy," She said, but then grew a little serious. "Dreams about crabs usually mean you're dealing with something tough but you're avoiding it." Gwen let out a breath, realizing the atmosphere took a dive. "I mean," she amended, trying for levity, "They've got thick outer shells right? But they're all soft and squishy on the inside. Um...you've tied them up but you never got to eating them, so I mean, it's not like the issue got resolved right?" She rambled. "What did the crab look like anyway?"
Kevin shrugged. "It's got the coloration of boiled, unseasoned chicken I guess. I've never seen any crab like that before."
Ben tapped his foot irately. "I mean," He interjected, before the conversation dissolved into a load of nothingness he couldn't understand, "Don't they always say that?" He asked, waving a hand for emphasis. "I've never heard anyone analyse a dream that wasn't some variant of 'You're avoiding something.' " He mocked.
"Yeah," Gwen agreed, picking the magazine back up again, "Some psychologist wrote on it, Freud or something. He said dreams themselves are a manifestation of your unconcious, so if you're avoiding something conciously it tends to confront you in your sleep."
Ben snorted. "Kevin, are you scared of crabs?" He teased.
Kevin scowled, shoving him playfully, "No way," He denied, "Why'd you think I'm so good at fishing? I useta hunt stuff from the ocean and the water all the time."
"We've seen you hunt fish." Gwen pointed out indignantly, flipping a page, clearly still irked over her clean defeat.
"Why," Kevin proposed, smoothly moving over to wind up arms over her shoulders, "if we stop at the beach next and the weather's nicer I could catch all the crabs for us to eat." He snuggled against Gwen's neck as he said that, causing her to grumble in exasperation when his larger frame stopped her from reading whatever was on the magazine properly, but it wasn't like she made an effort to shove him off.
"S' cold." He mumbled apologetically. Her eyes softened fondly at that, and she even began stroking through his damp strands of hair.
He hears Grandpa Max laugh quietly from the driver's seat. "It won't be the beach." He apologizes, "Maybe some other time."
Ben wrinkled his nose. "You guys are being gross again," Ben complained, but Gwen paid him no mind. He didn't even think Kevin had it in him to be so...gentleman-y.
"Why'd you ask us that anyway, Ben?" Gwen questioned. She had a mild, concerned frown to her face like she' thinking very hard despite Kevin cozying up to her like a wet dog. Ben felt his heartrate tick up. "Do you get weird dreams?"
Ben sunk into the plush seat of the van. "Nothing I guess," He deflected lamely. "I guess I do. Have weird dreams."
Gwen looked at Kevin, and then Kevin looked at Gwen. Gone was the sleepy, dopey, love-sick look on Kevin's face--it might've even looked like they were communicating telepathically, though with the time they've been gone Ben doesn't even know if it was an ability Gwen possessed.
"What." He said flatly, though it came out more defensively than he would have liked. "What's that look mean?"
Then they both turned over and looked at him. Ben felt his hackles rise, his shoulders hunching together in self-conciousness. "You guys are creeping me out." He joked lamely.
"You never say anything, so we don't bring it up." Gwen said gently at last. He thinks she's trying very hard to be comforting, which somewhat softened the ragged edges around his heart, but the cadence of her speech made his skin itch in a way that made him want to scratch himself raw all the same. "We respect your privacy and all that." Then she had a slight frown on her face, thin brows furrowed together in concern.
"But...Ben..." Gwen whispered uneasily, like it was forbidden, "You cry in your sleep sometimes."
Ben blanched, flushing horridly. "I--what?"
"Yeah." Gwen said seriously. "I didn't say anything about it, but sometimes I like, come get you earlier you know...but you were still asleep...but whenever you cried, I didn't want to wake you. But you do."
"Dude," Kevin said seriously, "I don't think I've ever seen you cry."
Ben was still blushing. He was--mortified, embarassed, he wanted to die. Though, from the grave look on their faces, it didn't look like it was something he could control, could he? "Dude," He squeaked, hyper aware of how shrill and panicked his own voice sounded, "I don't think I've ever seen me cry."
"What were you..." Kevin coughed, then tried to make his voice come out less demanding. "What were you even...dreaming about...anyway..." He said. Ben thought about the time he found Albedo on his bedroom floor with the Dream or Nightmare Eater or something attatched to his face, and his own disconcerting dream from before that. He didn't remember crying then. Why would he be crying now?
"I..." He hesitated. "I don't remember." He confessed, feeling fear creep up, crawling along the veins of his arms.
They looked at him a little doubtfully. "How'd you know they were weird then?" Gwen asked. "I could...google it or something, you know." She said cautiously, as though he had just been too emabrassed to tell her.
"I wake up feeling weird." He tells her, "That's how I know. But I can't describe what was weird or how it was weird. I never finished highschool, did I? I don't read all your fancy academic books. I'm telling you," He said angrily, "I really don't know."
Gwen looked taken aback by his little outburst, and Kevin did too.
"...Sorry." She tries, after a while. "We're just...we're worried, you know."
Ben huffed, crossing his arms and leaning angrily against the table. "We?" He said, building to a tirade, "There's a 'we' now, isn't there? Didn't 'we' used to include me too? I'm being weird? You're being weird. Is there a-a way I'm supposed to be, if I'm not being weird?" He paused for breath. "What's being normal for me then?" He asked, genuinely at a loss.
Even Grandpa Max didn't have anything to say to that. Nor was he trying to break up the little argument that had suddenly sparked between them. Ben cringed. He didn't really mean to bring all that up--to say all that. The conversation had begun as something else entirely, and now look at what he's done.
"Look," He tried, "Sorry about that I didn't mean to--bring the mood down or anything. The rain's just...wearing on me, that's all." When they didn't say anything to that, he tries again. "Look," He said frustratedly, "Just forget about it. Forget what I said." He pleads.
A boom of thunder shook the van. Ben found himself feebly clinging to the table as the frame of the vehicle rocked and buckled. "Um," He said loudly, laughing slightly, partially grateful for the distraction, "I knew it was raining, but I didn't know it was raining raining." Another explosion shook the ground.
"No, this is definitely strange." Gwen yelled over the tumult. "I saw the weather report before we went. We shouldn't be anywhere near lightning."
Kevin shouted, "You think it's someone...?"
"That can't be right." Grandpa said, somehow still measured and composed. He must have gotten used to steering the van during explosions. "I didn't recieve any alerts for a prison break. Everyone should still be checked in when we left. You guys hang on tight."
He doesn't think the lightning would hit the van, but the intensity of the thunder was begining to grow too loud for comfort. He could see the light flashing faintly through the windshield, through the blackness of the clouds and the unrelenting rain. Like a signal flag, or his life flickering in and out of existence. It's a familiar feeling of harrowness, of helplessness, like when he faced Vilgax for the first time, like when he leapt into the fiery red flames of the Ultamatrix. It wasn't like nature was an alien he could fight now, was it?
"Hang on." Ben said suddenly, trying to stand to get closer despite the shakes. "Is that a...Buzzshock?"
"You mean a Nosedeenian." Gwen corrected automatically from her position on the floor. But she followed his line of sight and gasped. "No way," She said, astonished. "I guess you're right."
"Um, what are you doing?" Kevin demanded. Ben paused from unlatching the door.
"We've got to go help it." He said, like it made sense. He moved to climb out of the van and into the rain, but Kevin's strong arms immediately pulled him back.
"No way man. At least wait until Magister Tennyson finds a safe place to park. What if the electricity strikes you or something?" Ben hesitated. Kevin sounded afraid like that sometimes. It's hard for something like that to worm its way into a tough guy like him when he spoke, so Ben wonders if Kevin knew how much sway he had over him and Gwen whenever he starts talking like that.
"I'll be fine." Ben insisted. "At least it's not a villian."
Kevin didn't give up. If anything, he held on tighter, hugging Ben to his chest despite all his struggling.
"Get off me!" Ben shouts, panicked, "I need to do this, why won't you let me?" Kevin abruptly freezes at his words, giving him just enough leeway to wriggle from his grasp and rush off.
"Kevin!" He hears Gwen call out from behind him, panicked and admonishing, but Ben couldn't hear the rest of it.
Ben tries not to think about how much he looked and sounded like a trapped animal then, enough to spook Kevin off anyway, curling his jacket tighter protectively over himself as though it could shield him from the unforgiving rain. He had more important things to do.
Big Chill flew up to the Nosedeenian, who was letting out sparks occassionally. The sight reminded him of a bawling toddler, but maybe that was just because he was a Necrofriggian right now. He figured the storm probably amplified the electrical output, but Gwen knew better than he did about those things.
"You're a long way from home aren't you buddy?" Ben didn't think it could hear him over the rain, and with how softly Big Chill spoke, but it reacted at that, and the lightning halted briefly. Drawing close, he could just make out the wire hooked around its leg. "You've got enough power in you to release all that electricity, but you don't have enough to get yourself out, do you?" He deduced. The mini Buzzshock flashed twiced in response, and Ben immediately untangled the wire looping around its leg.
Then he tapped the dial again and turned into Feedback. "A little juice for you." He offered, and fed a bit of current to it. Once freed, the Nosedeenian danced around him for a little while until thunder, the real, actual, far away thunder, reminded them of the storm's pressence. Ben made quick work to tuck the alien against his chest. He wasn't sure if Feedback emmited warmth, nor if a creature like Nosedeenians needed it, but it felt like the right thing to do. At least, it was comforting.
"You're safe now little guy." He whispers at the little Nosedeenian tucked inside his hoodie. It buzzed against him, likely shivering from the cold. "You go home now little buddy." He keeps it covered until he reaches the pylon, making use of Feedback's long, dextrous limbs. "That'll lead you back to Bellwood. " He feels it vibrate happily against his chest. There's a slight spark he sees as it jumps from his hand to the cable, and he follows the little light until it disappears into the city line.
"It's safe!" He hollers, relieved. The adrenaline was fading, so he was begining to feel a little cold. "The Nosedeenian's safe, I--" But there was still fear in their eyes--in Grandpa's eyes. What did he have to be so afraid for, Ben thought. For an anxious moment, Ben thought Grandpa Max was afraid of him. Him and what he's grown into, if he was no longer quite that ten year-old that found the Omnitrix.
"What?" He shouted back, unable to hear them. "What are you--" A louder rumbling, louder than the rain, interrupted his speech. He turned over to see the massive flood crashing down on him, as well as the tell-tale sound of the Omnitrix powering down.
"Fuck me I guess," He muttered under his breath, despairing and yet disbelieving on what was about to happen. "I'll be fine guys," He said a little panicked, "I'll be totally--" He eats a mouthful of water and blacks out.
Well, Ben thought, staring at the rapidly fading light of the water's surface. For a moment it was all very still, and Ben forgot entirely on what he supposed to do like turn into Ripjaws or one of his water aliens. He could see some of his dark strands of hair floating in the corner of his vision. They looked like molasses. In the stillness and the rapidly tightening of his lungs that indicated oxygen was running low, Ben remembered what he had been hoping for out of this camping trip. Well, Ben continues the line of thought sluggishly, the world moving and spinning like it's in slow motion, he hadn't managed to find any traces of his childhood there like he had hoped. The Ben that was ten years old, wide-eyed, obnoxious and annoying, that came to this campsite the first time hoping to outrun JT and Cash didn't really exist anymore, but that had been the Ben everyone remembered the most, and he wasn't sure what people thought of him now anymore. Hell, he wasn't even sure how he thought of himself most days. There were so many things that Four-Arms or Heatblast or Big Chill or Jetray could do that a human like Ben simply couldn't do.
It turned out he didn't need to do anything. He sees Kevin's dark silhouette diving into the water, shooting towards him like a torpedo. Was it strange that Ben felt a bolt of fear course through him at the sight? Kevin grabbed him by the armpits and practically hauled him back to the surface, dropping him to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Ben hadn't realized how badly he needed air until he was choking desperately for it above the water.
"What was that, dipshit?" He hears Kevin say past the ringing in his ears. In any other occassion Ben would think it's Kevin joking around again, but there was a genuine anger threaded in his voice that wasn't normally present. If he weren't so busy trying to cough up any of the water he might have swallowed, Ben would have tried to respond. It didn't matter if it opened his mouth now, would it? Kevin interrupted, "You coulda swam outa there by yourself. Or pick an alien, anything! Do you know how worried Gwen had been?" He paused, chest heaving.
"How worried I had been, when you didn't resurface right away?" Kevin's voice cracked quietly at the last syllable, and Ben feels his eyebrows scrunch harshly from the guilt.
"I'm...I'm sorry." Ben said desperately, scrambling to his feet. His brain must of been more deprived of oxygen than he thought, because the world suddenly tilted sideways and he stumbled, nearly falling over until Kevin's strong arms caught him.
"Easy there." He said gruffly, moving Ben until he's upright again, allowing him to sling an arm over his shoulder. "You must be cold." Ben resisted the urge to shove him off when he feels a body pressed too closely to his, his teeth grinding together. Everything sort of felt like mush at the moment. Like wading through thick mud. Cold mud, Ben added with a shiver. Even if he wanted to, which he did, but he shouldn't want to, shove Kevin off, he probably wouldn't be able to do so. In moments like these, Ben doesn't think of them often, those ten dreadful minutes of survival he has to make through every time before the Omnitrix powers on again, but sometimes the fear makes itself known when Ben least expected it. Sometimes he wouldn't be able to go to sleep hours after the detransformation, and more often than not found himself obsessively glancing at his watch like some drug addict to see the green he was so familiar with.
It wasn't a side anyone knew of really, but Kevin had the capacity to be tender when he wanted to be. It's not a fact the big oaf would admit to himself, but Ben finds it to be true. Especially in moments like these. Still though, when Kevin comes back with a towel to wipe his face with, Ben flinches against the hand in front of his face. "S-sorry." Ben stammers, ducking his head and pretending it's only the cold he's shaking from. The rag paused from where it was hovered awkwardly over his wet cheek. Through the thick mollasses in his head, Ben vaguely registers Kevin's tired inhale.
"S' Okay." Kevin says quietly, moving up to towel his hair dry. "I did that to you, didn't I?"
"It was worth it." Ben insisted. He doesn't really get it himself but he really needed Kevin to understand. "It doesn't matter what happened to me. It got the job done." Now it's Kevin turn to flinch against his words.
"No." Kevin said.
Rage abruptly sparked in him, cutting through the fog. He batted away Kevin's hand to stand up. "What to you mean 'No'?"
Kevin's never really been known to back down against a fight. Ben really should know better than to argue against him. "I mean," Kevin starts, using his height to its full advantage to tower over him, "No." He affirms, his voice hard. "It's not right. Maybe it was the best solution for Servantis or whatever, but it's not right."
Kevin's voice cracks slightly when he whispers, confesses, "I hurt you."
Ben honest to gods hates how mature Kevin's grown through out the past several years. He kind of just wishes he'd taken the bait and punch him already.
A thousand words of justification rises up his throat, and he sputters through most of it like a dying fish. None of them sound convincing enough. Ben clenches and unclenches his fists uselessly by his side. "You didn't mean to." He chokes out desperately.
"Yeah. I didn't mean to." Kevin hisses. "But that doesn't change the fact you flinch from me every time I get too close does it?" Ben feels the humiliation and shame burn hot on his cheeks. What could he say to that? He can't even bring himself to look at Kevin. It seemed like no one but Ben could see how disgusting he was.
"Leave it, Kev." Ben doesn't plead or beg, but he pushes roughly at Kevin's bicep just to prove that he could and brushes past him roughly. There must be something in the intonation of his voice though, a lingering fear or anxiousness he couldn't quite scrub off, because Kevin, against all odds, let him go.