Disclaimer: I do not own Ben 10. This was written purely as a non-profit piece of fanfiction and is in no way meant to infringe on the copyright of the original work.

WARNING: This story contains blatant hints of Ben/Gwen. If that is not your thing, then DON'T READ IT. Seriously. I don't want to hear you complaining about something you were duly warned about.

For the rest of you, enjoy!

And I Never Knew How Much

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There were police officers at his dorm room door.

Why the hell were there police officers at his dorm room door?

And more importantly, why were they there just ten freakin' minutes after he'd gotten back, when all he wanted was a quality nap?

Maybe it had something to do with those lamp posts last month? But that wasn't fair, it totally wasn't his –

"Benjamin Tennyson?"

He didn't understand why the voice was so gentle. Ben was pretty sure cops were supposed to sound stern, or at the very least coldly official.

His reply was a little wary.

"Yeah, that's me."

A queasy feeling was twisting up from the pit of his stomach and wherever this was going, he knew that he didn't like it.

The cop introduced himself and his partner as Detective Spetzer and Officer Baines respectively, in that same gentle voice that was starting to drive Ben mad. He would feel a lot better if this guy would only have the decency to make him feel normal fear, instead of this horrible uncertainty. Was that really too much to ask?

He decided it most definitely was when Detective Spetzer gave him a sympathetic look a million times worse than his stupid, infuriating voice. And then Ben's heart crawled in on itself as he heard the man's next words.

"I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but we need you to come down to the morgue to identify a body."

He stared at the man as he tried to make his mouth form words again.

"What are you … a – a what …?" His bewildered expression quickly dissolved into one of utter terror. A body? His mind leapt instantly to the worst case scenario. Surely it wasn't … no, no of course not … Please don't be her, please don't be her, please God don't let it be her.

He didn't stop to wonder why she was the first one who came to mind. Why he didn't think of his parents or his grandpa, or anyone else for that matter.

Feeling like he was drowning, he rasped, "Whose body?"

"We're not absolutely certain," Officer Baines started, "but we believe it might be your cousin Gwendolyn Tennyson."

He couldn't – he couldn't breathe. He kept wheezing and choking, but it felt like he wasn't getting any air.

His mind went blank as the officer continued (something about her parents being so far away and him so close, he would recall later) and then slowly came back with the desperate thought that they'd made a mistake. The man had said so himself, hadn't he? He said they weren't certain, and since it was ludicrous to think that something might have happened to her, then obviously they'd just made a mistake and Gwen was fine. In fact, he should call her right now, just so he could maybe breathe again and his heart could stop doing that annoying thing where it felt like he might be going into cardiac arrest.

When he started to pull his cell phone from his pocket, the two officers explained that it was important for him to come with them now, and that it was perhaps better to make calls after he had seen the body.

That word again. It caught him up for a second with its cold detachment. The chilling thought that it could be linked in any way to the warm vibrancy of Gwen made him feel like puking. He shivered to rid himself of the feeling and nodded slowly as he let his phone slip back into his jeans. Throwing a last bewildered look around the room to which he had been so glad to return, Ben grabbed his keys from his desk and followed the two men out the door.

"But you've only been back for a week! What about your classes?" Gwen's surprise at his intention to leave on another mission – or in her words 'stupid, suicidal attempt to prove that he's even more stupid and suicidal than she'd previously thought' (he preferred to think of them as training exercises) – was quickly turning to anger. Heavy afternoon sunlight shone brightly off her hair as she stood in front of his window, an accusatory finger leveled across the room at her cousin.

"You can't expect me to stay home and study all the time!" Ben's anger was quick to match Gwen's as he narrowed his eyes at her. "You and I both know that I'm going to be a plumber, and that doesn't require straight 'A's, it requires experience!"

Ben watched as Gwen's face slowly got redder, and he suddenly wondered how long it would take to match her hair. Then his gaze wandered to her eyes and he wondered how they managed look even greener than usual.

"Well, they're going to want some level of education! You can't just go into every situation without knowing anything! Maybe your classes could help, if you actually went to them. Maybe that anthropology course you're taking could help you understand all the alien cultures you run into, did you think of that?" She crossed her arms and locked Ben in a challenging stare.

Feeling his own anger dissipate, a trace of curiosity rose within him.

"Why do you care so much?"

This wasn't her usual way. Normally Gwen would scold him, tease him for being such a lunkhead, and then let the subject go, because she knew that he would be a plumber – and a great one – with or without a degree. This time was different though, and Ben wanted to know why.

Stepping closer, he quirked his head inquisitively. "I've left on back-to-back missions before and you've never had this much of a problem with it. Why is it such a big deal now?"

Gwen wasn't backing down. "I care so much because you're being stupid and irresponsible – as usual! Why can't you see that you need to pay attention to your studies? That you can't always be out gallivanting across the universe, hoping your luck won't finally run out and you find yourself dead on some godforsaken planet millions of light-years from home!" She was breathing hard now, her glare heated.

It was a good argument, and he thought that maybe that last bit might be closer to the problem, but she still wasn't telling him something. These were things she'd said before, but she'd always said them like she knew it wouldn't change anything. This time she was fighting all out – she really didn't want him to go.

"That's not what's bothering you, Gwen." She blinked, surprised.

He pressed on. "You've said that every time I go out on training exercises. But you never get this angry about it." Ben's look softened. "What's so different this time?"

Her angry demeanor faltering, Gwen uncrossed her arms and shifted her eyes. Then she bowed her head a little, and all he could see was a wall of shiny red hair looking deliciously warm in the sunlight. He had a sudden urge to touch it.

Ben took a few more steps forward but instead of lifting his hand to her hair, he tried to get her to make eye contact with him. Laying his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down slightly.

"It's not my studies that has you worried, is it? Or even how dangerous it might be." They were both statements.

Gwen shook her head, and when she tilted it up to look him in the face, he was alarmed to find that her eyes were bright with tears. At the very corner of her left eye he could see one nearly brimming over the edge. Feeling a tightening in his chest, he quickly wrapped his arms around the girl and smothered her in a hug. He never could stand to see her cry, and even though he didn't know what was upsetting her, he felt an overwhelming need to make it better.

Ben's mind was racing like his life depended on it during the long ride to the morgue, but he couldn't focus on any one thought for long. He knew he should be thinking something important, maybe even profound right now, but all he could manage were snapshots of memories and useless non-sequiturs.

A moth flying into their campfire and watching it as it fizzles and disappears in the flames. Fumbling with his Lego blocks at three years old, trying to build …. a boat? A bridge? Laughing with Gwen when their grandpa accidentally trips over a bucket of worms he's been saving for dinner, both kids grateful when there are too few left over to cook.

This window is greasy. Gross.

Soaring in the clouds as Stinkfly and seeing city lights from above for the first time. The cold relief of an ice-cube on a particularly nasty wasp sting on his foot. Gwen's hair tickling her eyelashes as a lake-side breeze blows gently through it.

Why does it smell like Cheetos in here? Ugh, this seat feels a little sticky. I wonder what it feels like to carry a gun around all the time?

Ben tried to focus on one thought, figured he might as well run with the gun thing. I'll bet it's heavy. Or maybe not – maybe you get used to it. I wonder how often they use them? Jeez, it would be pretty harsh to have to kill someone like that, as part of your job. Just 'bang' and that's what you're supposed to do. I guess it's not that different from being a plumber though, I mean, you have to kill sometimes in that job too. But aliens, not people. It shouldn't feel different but I think it would.

This was going well, he could actually string some thoughts together in a way that made sense. He was making progress.

I wonder what it feels like to kill a human?

Okay, maybe this wasn't the best road to go down.

Would you be all broken up afterwards or would you go numb? Do you get used to it?

And then he went somewhere he really shouldn't have.

How would someone feel if they killed a person like Gwen? Someone bright and shining and … like, life?

Could you kill a person like that and not feel remorse? Even if you were some cold-blooded serial killer, how on earth could you take away something so amazing and not feel it?

Abruptly, he realized what he was thinking. He froze, horrified at the thought of anyone laying a hand on Gwen, making Gwen hurt, killing Gwen.

"Oh god …"

Non-sequitur, non-sequitur, please God where was a non-sequitur when you needed it?

Ben guided her gently to his bed and then sat beside her, her small hands clasped tightly in between his warm ones.

"What's the matter, Gwen?" He looked at her pleadingly, his earlier anger forgotten.

"I just … I don't want you to leave." She shifted her eyes to his, a bare and plaintive look on her face. "Not this time." The tears then started to overflow and she closed her eyes as they left trails down her cheeks. She laced her fingers through his. "Please, Ben. Just this once."

Taken aback by the emotion in her voice, Ben was temporarily frozen. She looked scared, like a little girl who'd just woken from a very bad dream and needed someone to tell her that none of it was real. Her fear was starting to make him feel scared too.

It was nonsense though, wasn't it? It was just another mission, no more or less dangerous than any other. He didn't understand why Gwen was so upset; she hadn't given him a single reason and at this point he was wondering if there even was one. Maybe she was just PMS-ing really badly (it had been known to happen) or maybe she'd simply gone completely bonkers. Either way, he wasn't about to stay home just because Gwen was having nightmares or something – he had a future to think about, and that future included going out like this all the time.

"Gwen, you know that I can't stay home. These experiences will make me a better plumber – and anyways, I want to go. You know me, I can't stand to be away from the excitement for too long." He grinned playfully at her, trying to get her to remember who she was talking to. He was Ben Tennyson, holder of the Omnitrix. More than that, he was a hero, and heroes didn't stay home because they were scared, or because they needed to write an eight page paper on ethnocentrism.

But Gwen was not so easily swayed. "Ben, I'm begging you. Don't go."

Ben disentangled his fingers from hers, then stood up. He was starting to get irritated with her stubborn refusal to see his side of the argument. "You can't ask me not to do this, Gwen. It's who I am!"

He paced a few steps, then stopped and looked back at her regretfully. "At least tell me why it's so important that I stay."

"Because if you walk out that door, Benjamin Tennyson, something bad is going to happen." Tears were still staining her cheeks, but her voice was stern.

Ben snorted in disbelief, "Is that a threat?"

"No, you idiot!" Gwen stood up now too, frustrated at his lack of understanding. "I have a bad feeling, okay? Something's going to happen."

He felt like laughing, or at least he would have if her words hadn't reignited his anger. This was why she was scared? Why she was making this so difficult? A bad feeling?

"Don't be stupid, Gwen. Nothing's going to happen, you're just being paranoid." Fed up with the whole argument, he made his way to the door.

Before he could make it two steps, she'd grabbed his hand roughly and pulled him around to face her again.

"Ben, I'm serious."

He leveled his gaze towards her. "What is it that's going to happen then? What's got you so scared you can't let me leave my own dorm room?"

"I don't know, alright? All I know is that if you go on this mission, then something very, very bad is going to happen." She looked at him with those eyes full of tears again, and he had to look away. The lamp seemed a safer bet.

"That's not enough!" He sucked it up and forced himself to look at her. He could feel an angry flush flooding his cheeks and he felt bad about her tears, but she was just so frustrating.

"I'm supposed to be a friggin' hero, Gwen! I can't stay home because my stupid, paranoid cousin had a bad feeling. I've got responsibilities to other people too, you know!" He said it a little more harshly than he intended, and she dropped his hand and backed away as if he'd slapped her.

"I'm sorry, Gwen, I – " he tried to backtrack quickly.

"No, that's alright. Why would you listen to your stupid cousin and her ridiculous feelings anyway?" She turned her face from him, but he could still see the hurt etched in her features.

The morgue.

A horrible name for a horrible place.

At least their arrival at the building had finally shaken him out of the mental pit that he had dug himself. Unfortunately now that he was here it seemed a lot more real, and the guilt was starting to creep in. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Gwen before he left. He remembered in intricate detail the way her face looked when she begged him to stay.

Trying to avoid falling off the lip of that very dark hole, Ben did his best to focus on his earlier conviction that it had all been a misunderstanding. But the more he repeated to himself that it wasn't Gwen, the more he felt certain that it was her and that it was his fault. He should have been home to protect her. That was his job before anything else – protecting her. He knew that she was capable of taking care of herself (and him too, more often than not), but he couldn't help feeling that he needed to be there to protect her from anything that might hurt her.

This time, though, he hadn't been there. He hadn't been there for her, and she had been more than hurt. She had been killed, and it might as well have been by him.

He knew he was exaggerating, but he couldn't help the mental image of him standing above her, bloodied knife in hand. He had to stop for a moment and try to get his lungs to work again, because it felt like there was something squeezing them so hard he couldn't breathe.

The officers escorting him asked him if he was alright, but he couldn't answer.

It wasn't me, I didn't kill her! I didn't!

He was trying desperately to convince himself of that fact, but his heart wouldn't listen. That is, until he thought of someone else with a knife. Someone who had physically, literally killed her. They hadn't even told him that she'd been murdered, but he knew that's what had happened.

Burning, blinding anger surged through his veins.

He was going to FUCKING KILL the son of a bitch who did this.

He wanted to go to her and wrap her in another hug, but he couldn't. He just stood there dumbly, trying to explain himself. "It's not like that, Gwen. You know it's not like that."

He took a halting step towards her, half raised his hand to reach out, then seemed to deflate. His hand dropped dully to his side. "Of course you're not just my stupid cousin. You're my stupid cousin who means more to me than anyone else in the world. And I don't think your feelings are ridiculous." He tried to grin at her. "Just this one."

She looked back at him, a hurt expression still written across her face. Her voice was quiet. "I know I'm right, Ben. I know it. And you say I mean more to you than anyone else in the world, so why won't you do this one thing for me?"

Finding his voice quieter too, Ben told her simply, "I can't."

She squeezed her eyes shut as tears raced down her cheeks, and he felt like the biggest asshole in the world. But if he let her keep him home this time, what would stop her next time? And the time after that, and the time after that? He couldn't give up who he was. Not even for her.

"Please," she tried again, her voice desperate as she choked back a sob. "I'm asking you this because I love you."

Her words made his heart squirm in a warm, happy way – even as her voice tore it to shreds – but he knew he couldn't let that stop him.

It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but he pulled his hand from hers and turned away.

"Don't you – don't you dare walk out that door!"

She didn't even sound angry, just desperate. He couldn't see her, but he knew she would be crying in earnest now. He could hear the tears in her voice. Still, he kept walking towards the door.

"Ben, please!"

He opened the door and, knowing he would regret it, he looked back. She had sunk to her knees on the floor, her hands fisted against the carpet. Sunlight drenched across her features as she stared at the ground, making her look like the warmest, saddest angel in the world.

It killed him.

Then her warm green eyes tipped up from the floor and his sad little angel glared at him, and he could see the betrayal in her eyes. He looked away.

Why was she doing this to him? She knew he couldn't stay home, and she knew that she was making him feel like he was plunging a dagger in her heart, and it was all for this stupid, ridiculous feeling. Why was she making such a big deal out of it?

Gwen tried one more time, her quiet voice shattering his heart into even smaller pieces. "Don't go. Please don't go."

He wanted to apologize, to say he was sorry, to say that he really did love her. But he couldn't form the words, so he hung his head and, unable to look at her again, walked out the door.

He barely heard it when her quiet, angry voice drifted towards him as he closed the door.

"I won't forgive you for this…"

Oh God. This was it.

The body.

Ben couldn't help it – he was trembling. The last thing in the world he wanted was to see Gwen as anything but fully, brilliantly alive.

"Do you need a moment, son?"

Ben didn't even know if it was the coroner or one of the cops that had asked him.

"No. Just get it over with."

He wanted so badly to turn around and run, but he had to do this. He had to keep his eyes on that distressingly still form in front of him. He saw the coroner reach out his hand to grasp the corner of the heavy sheet covering her, and he fought to keep his eyes from darting away.

Finally, slowly, the sheet pulled away and Ben took a sharp breath.

Red hair.

Oh God, no.

Pale forehead.

Please no.

Bold, arched eyebrows, long lashes, straight nose.

No no no no no.

Freckles on the cheeks, thin lips.

Wait.

That's not right.

Scanning again, it slowly dawned on him. It wasn't …

It … it wasn't Gwen.

He made a strange noise and fell to his knees, tears burning the back of his eyelids.

One of the officers placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Ben laughed, startling the man. "No, you don't get it. It's not her! Gwen, my Gwen, she's still alive!"

He quickly fumbled in his jeans and pulled out his phone. It took three tries but he managed to dial her number. Still kneeling on the floor, he waited impatiently while it rang.

Pick up, Gwen. Come on, now's really not the time to let it go to voice mail. Pick u –

"Hello?"

What a goddamned beautiful word.

"Gwen! Tell me that's you Gwen are you okay?" He was speaking so fast he hoped she understood what he was saying.

"Ben? Do you know what I've been going through waiting for you to come home? I thought something horrible happened to you!"

"God, I can't tell you how amazing it is to hear your voice right now."

"Are you even listening to me? What's going on? Is something wrong? Oh my God, something horrible did happen, didn't it?"

"No, no, just … where are you right now?"

"I'm at the bus station. I've been at my parents' for a few days – Ken was really sick, and with all my worrying about the both of you, I've been a total wreck!"

"Okay listen, I'm really, really sorry about that, but I need you to stay right there and I'm going to come and get you." He didn't want to wait until they both got back to campus. He had to see her now.

"What? Why?"

"Look, I just need to see you, okay?"

"But why? Ben, what's wrong?"

He could tell that she was worried, but he didn't want to explain over the phone. And besides, he was just wasting time that could be better spent finding her.

"I'll tell you when I see you alright? Stay there!"

Flipping his phone closed, he finally jumped up off the floor and grabbed the nearest officer – Baines, he thought.

"I need you to take me to the bus station on Harville. You can do that right?"

"Well, we're not really a chauffeur service ... " when he saw the borderline manic expression on the young man's face, he continued quickly, "but I think in this instance we can make an exception."

"Excellent." Ben dragged him towards the door, unable to think about much else other than the anxious redhead waiting for him.

Twenty-two very long minutes later, he fairly leapt out of the cop car, already scanning faces for Gwen's. Every one that wasn't hers was hugely annoying to him, but as soon as he saw it all of that irritation was replaced with a rush of relief. Sweet, all encompassing relief.

He launched himself at the startled girl and held her in a desperately tight grip.

"Ben! What the – what is wrong with you?" Despite her protesting tone and his somewhat suffocating embrace, she made no move to escape.

He was too busy reveling in the scent of her hair and the warm feeling of her body to reply right away.

"Ben?"

She squirmed a little, trying to move her head so she could look at him.

"Ben!"

He reluctantly pulled away.

"What's going on? And why is that cop staring at us?"

Needing to stay in physical contact with her, he grabbed her hands and held them.

"I'm sorry Gwen. I'm just really, really happy to see you."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I got that. But why are you so happy to see me?"

He gestured at Officer Baines, standing awkwardly a few feet away. "That guy and another one showed up to take me to the morgue about an hour ago. They wanted me to identify a body."

Gwen's eyes widened. "Who – " she began, before he continued.

"They said it was you."

Comprehension dawned on her face, and she shivered a little and drew closer to him.

"That was honestly the worst hour of my life. With that argument we'd had and how worried you were, I just felt so guilty – like … like I'd killed you myself."

She looked up at him with soft eyes and he felt a little bit of hope.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before I left. Please … forgive me?"

She didn't answer, but slid her arms around his waist and clutched him to her. He wondered if she could hear his pounding heart with her head on his chest like that, then put his arms around her and squeezed back.

"Is that a yes?" he mumbled into her hair.

A quiet, "Of course," floated up from his chest area and he felt a satisfying warmth flood through his entire body.

They stood there like that for a moment, Officer Baines studiously trying to avert his eyes, and then a tiny, "I love you. You know that, right?" drifted into Ben's consciousness. He wasn't sure exactly what she meant by that, but he knew what he meant.

"I love you, too."

He heard her give a happy sigh and then, "I'll never, ever leave you, Ben."

"Not even if Kevin shows up again?" He tried to sound like he was teasing.

"Not in a million years."

He smiled into her delicious hair.

"Good."