Hey, readers! Sorry I took so freaking long to update; I've been pretty busy with school this year, but no matter! I do fully intend to finish this fic, regardless of how long it'll take me! So, without further ado, I give you a kinda fluff/kinda sad angsty Ben chapter. I promise to update again soon though! Enjoy and please remember to leave a comment if you're enjoying the story or just want to say hi even...idk!

Disclaimer: Nothing Marvel is mine. Only my precious baby cinnamon roll, Ben!

Chapter 8: A Restless Night

Ben bolted upright and looked around wildly at his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a dark room, and he quickly reached out beside the bed, feeling around his surroundings frantically for a light switch. He felt a thin metal chain brush his fingertips, and he gave it a little tug. A small bedside lamp lit up the room, for the most part, and Ben released a pent up sigh of relief. He was breathing rather heavily, and his body was covered in a cold sweat. He had slept restlessly, and nightmares were plaguing him whenever he finally able to fall asleep.

Running his hands over his face and through his tangled, unruly curls, he breathed shakily to calm himself. He could remember now. He was in a guest bed room at the Avengers Tower. Well…Mr. Stark had offered it to him to be his own room now, but it certainly didn't feel like home exactly…not yet at least. The day before was like a blur to him really. Ross had shot him and caused him to…to change for the first time. Thankfully, his father and the Captain had come to help in time, but it was definitely a lot that happened-and it had really rattled him. Bruce had brought him back to the tower instantly, figuring Steve was still after General Ross, and immediately they started to take blood samples and run scans.

Ben had been completely silent the whole time his father and Tony worked. They had sat him down in one of their labs, and had him sit on a cold, metal table; it made him feel like a lab rat-and he didn't like it one bit. The only thing that was comforting to him was that Bruce had kept giving him an apologetic smile, reassuring him constantly that they were almost done, and apologizing a lot-saying he understood that this sort of think always put him on the edge too. He wasn't scared that he didn't understand most of what the two scientists would whisper to each other when they examined any data or results from their testing, but what really made him nervous was when he did overhear something that he could understand.

"It doesn't normally take this long for you to change back normally, does it, Bruce?"

"No. No, it doesn't…I-I thought that his condition would be pretty similar to mine at first, but it's…it's proving itself to be something else entirely. He doesn't appear to have another conscience or anything akin to an alternate personality…it's just him."

"I mean, it can't be that much different, right? He inherited this all from YOU after all."

Ben's gaze flitted to the picture frame he had put on the bedside table, and picked it up. He ran his fingers gently over the picture of him and his mother.

"So, you're implying that…that the irradiated cells could potentially fade away less and less with each change?"

"Possibly, we'll have to do our best to look for signs of this in the tests we're running though. Otherwise, there's no other way to tell if this theory is correct unless we see how much longer it takes him to change back after a change…and I don't want to take that risk. I promised Ben that we'd figure this out so he could live a normal life…"

"Bruce…you know he can't have that anymore."

"I-I know… but I have to try to give him as close to a normal life as I can. It's my fault he's like this."

"Don't beat yourself up, Bruce. This isn't your fault, and Ben isn't dumb, he knows that. So, let's just do our best to help him and focus on this, okay? Hell! Maybe I can show him some of my fun toys tomorrow to cheer him up a bit for a distraction, alright?"

"…Alright. Thanks, Tony."

Ben set the frame back down on the bedside table, whipped the tears from his eyes, and he looked back down at his blurry looking hands. They weren't green anymore as far as he could tell…but it had taken at least thirty minutes after the ordeal to be completely back to his normal state. He looked again around the room with squinted eyes, and grumbled to himself.

He had worn his contacts yesterday, and he taken them out before he went to sleep. He preferred contacts over his glasses, but in his hurry to leave the house yesterday, he had forgotten them in the bathroom, along with a majority of all his usual toiletries. Fortunately, Mr. Stark's guest bathroom was fully stocked, not with his preferred products, but he wasn't too picky. Rather unfortunately (in his mind) though, he was stuck wearing his glasses until he could get his hands on more contacts-which would hopefully be soon enough because Bruce had Tony send for the remainder of all his things at his house.

He reached for the blurry dark shape on the table, and slipped his glasses on. Stifling a yawn, Ben swung his legs off the bed, and landed lightly on the ground. His bare feet met the cold surface of the hardwood floor, and he hissed quietly. It'd take some getting used to for sure being in the tower; everything was so different and big and fancy…nothing felt real to him. He wasn't sure if he could ever truly call this place home, but…where else could he possibly go.

Ben trudged to the bathroom and starred at himself blankly in the mirror. He looked bloody awful. There were dark circles under his eyes from his lack of sleep, his hair was a mess, tear stained streaks ran down his cheeks, and his eyes were red and puffy. He also couldn't help but notice the one thing that didn't go back to normal last night.

There was a faint thin ring of green surrounding his pupils, while the rest of his eyes remained their familiar warm brown…this wouldn't have irked him as much if it was just a regular shade of green, but it wasn't. It might not be noticeable unless you focused very closely on it, but it was a very bright green-it was unnatural. And, much to Ben's concern, that thin, bright green ring was practically glowing, and it pulsated depending on his emotions.

He has noticed this when he was removing his contacts last night, so, he wasn't even entirely sure if his father was aware of it. He'd have to tell him… When he first noticed the tinge of green in his eyes, it made him panic- he wasn't sure what it was after all. Because of that, his heartrate had sped up very quickly, and, when this happened, the ring had expanded and encompassed more of his eye. Hell, he thought he'd almost have another break down if he hadn't recalled his breathing exercises to calm down.

Recalling this close call from late last night caused him to grimace slightly, and the ring quivered a bit around his pupil, growing in size a bit, and then going back down.

"Oh god…t-that's not creepy at all," Ben said shakily as he continued to get ready for the day, all the while, trying not to make eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. After that, he quickly got dressed, and went to go attempt to find the kitchen. He was starving. Bruce and Tony could wait a bit longer for him in that lab; he'd much rather be eating food, than spending his day underneath a microscope again.

Ben shuddered at the thought, and took one last look at the picture of his mother on the table. His lips turned upwards slightly in a sad smile, and he shut the door behind him.