A/N: I can't believe I'm writing a Ben 10 fanfiction in 2018.

This takes place after the end of Omniverse, which means that the Plumber base is currently in space, in orbit around the Earth. If you didn't know that (honestly, I forgot, too), then I suggest watching Omniverse, season eight episode six, "The Final Countdown." It's a pretty good episode, in my opinion.

Also, in this story, Ben is seventeen, just so you know. If there's something in this fic that contradicts that, just let me know so I can change it.

By the way, this is all pre-written and planned in advance, so there will be a consistent update schedule of once a week on Saturdays, and fourteen total chapters. Maybe a sequel, too? That mostly depends on how well this first one goes. Don't count your chickens before they hatch, folks.

His head slams into the wall so hard that it leaves his ears ringing and the world going black at the edges. For an alien with a skull made out of vines, it's an impressive accomplishment. The Omnitrix gives a beep that he doesn't process at first, and then Swampfire is gone in a flash of green light, leaving only Ben Tennyson on the ground. Everything goes white for an achingly long moment, but then the world is struggling into view and his head is pounding loud enough to keep him from unconsciousness.

Ben never got her name. He was just told that there was an incredibly aggressive female Tetramand tearing apart Undertown and then he showed up with Rook in time to get projectile-thrown through ten buildings. She had already destroyed a large portion of the underground alien town by the time they arrived, and the fight had only succeeded in making her path of destruction spread faster.

Despite the throbbing that reverberates through his skull like an ugly anthem, Ben forces himself into a sitting position. He blinks a few times, dazed, then chokes down a strangled cry as he abruptly throws his body weight to the right. Not a moment later, the Tetramand's foot slams down right where his leg had been a moment earlier. Used to life and death fights on the daily, Ben doesn't waste even a second thinking about what a close call that was. He ducks out of the way of her fist again, searching the destroyed streets for any sign of Rook. Last Ben had seen him, he was right next to him, but staying in one place is a bad call in any fight.

"Ben!" Rook's shout doesn't help the human to orient himself any, but it reminds Ben that he should really be paying attention to the fight. Again, he manages to duck out of the way just in the nick of time. He grunts as he throws himself forward onto his chest. Bits of the broken street rain over him, knocked loose by the large fist that crashed into the pavement where he was just a second ago.

The female Tetramand isn't the toughest person Ben has ever fought. Princess Looma is much bigger than she is, and Ben had still managed to beat her in the end. But if that's the case, why is he having so much trouble with this random alien? Four Arms had been the first alien he tried, but he had been knocked out so easily that he's still baffled by how that happened. This Tetramand isn't rational at the moment. Every attempt he's made to talk to her has only seemed to frustrate her further. He doesn't know what happened to set her off, but she's furious and wants to crush something. Preferably, him.

He's reaching for the Omnitrix when Rook makes himself known. Momentarily, Ben forgets himself, watching Rook launch himself at the Tetramand. It's kind of funny. He's almost two heads taller than Ben, but next to her, Rook looks like a doll. Her biceps are thicker than Rook's entire body. Maybe it's the residual effects of the concussion, but Ben smiles to himself at the thought.

Then his smile is gone, because she's grabbed Rook and thrown him so hard that he's out of sight before Ben can pull himself together.

He's still a little disoriented, but he knows that he needs to be on his feet and doing something to stop her. The problem is that that's easier said than done. Getting to his feet proves to be harder than Ben thought it would be. Not for the first time, he wishes that he had had the foresight to turn on the Omnitrix's voice control before the fight. He can't remember the code for voice recognition mode while trying to stay alive, let alone spit it out well enough for the Omnitrix to actually process his words.

Her fists cut through the air faster than he's ever seen a Tetramand move, not giving him even a moment to stop and think. He's too busy scrambling around and dodging her to even try activating the Omnitrix. Ordinarily, it wouldn't be a problem. He's managed to survive in his human form plenty of times before this, except that now, he's getting tired. If the backup is on its way, it sure is taking its sweet time arriving.

Rapidly, the fight becomes taxing. Not that he would ever admit it, but a part of Ben wishes that he had listened to Rook even once and trained in his human form like he should have. When it comes to fighting, human bodies tire so quickly. The harder it becomes for his muscles to move, the more aggressive the Tetramand seems to become. Ben doesn't know how long he can make it before he's too exhausted to keep dodging. It's been less than a minute, and already, his arms feel heavy, his legs are burning with protest, and he knows that he's landed on his ankle wrong at least a few times now. Still, it's either keep dodging, or test his luck against a colossal fist that must weigh a ton just on its own. He can tolerate the road burn on his palms and the dust causing his eyes to tear up. As long as he keeps moving, all of that is bearable.

And then Ben lets himself be distracted.

Hearing Rook's voice shout his name, Ben looks to the side. It's only for a second, but that's enough. The second that his eyes leave her, the Tetramand has him by the arm and is hauling him off of his feet. It feels like she's ripped his arm out of his socket, and he tries not to think about how her huge hands could snap his body like a toothpick, sinking his teeth into his lower lip in an effort to hold back a scream of pain.

For the second time that day, he's slammed against a wall. Only now, he has his right arm being crushed in her grip. His mouth opens for a shout that doesn't come, choking back tortured tears as she squeezes and Ben hears a resounding crack.

She lets out a grunt as Rook snaps her over the head with his baton. Frustrated, she drops Ben to the ground. He barely has time to recognize what's happening before her fist hits the wall above him, and the shaky structure crumbles like a house of cards. Ben has the sense to bring his hands up just in time to avoid getting his head crushed. His left hand listens to him, but his right arm only twitches before sending a hot flash of pain up his entire arm and the right side of his chest.

The world doesn't slip away from him, but he wishes that it would. Being buried by the wall isn't like how Ben's always seen it portrayed in books and in media. He doesn't black out, only to wake hours later in a hospital with his loved ones worriedly looking over him.

No, instead, he's painfully aware of every second that passes under the mountain of rubble. He was sweating before, but now it's stuffy and boiling hot under the rocks. There's no fresh air, and the air that he does have is so choked with dust that Ben is afraid to breathe it in. His left ankle feels like it's been snapped, and there are rocks digging painfully into the front side of his body, but somehow, his crushed arm still hurts more than anything else. His left arm is pinned in a guarded position above his head, which Ben considers to be a good thing. It's an uncomfortable situation, but it gives him a much-needed inch of space between his face and the rubble. He can't open his eyes, at risk of exposing them to the dust, but at least his head isn't being smothered. At his side, his right arm is pinched against the hard dirt ground by the pile he's buried under. The internal pain is so intense that Ben barely registers the bruises and cuts he has on the outside of his body.

He's had his arm broken before. This doesn't feel like that. It feels a little bit like someone splintered every bone in his arm and twisted the fragments into his muscles as painfully as possible.

And the worst part is, it's not even one of Ben's long-standing enemies who got the honor of doing this to him. It wouldn't be so humiliating and pathetic if it was Vilgax or Maltruant. Instead, it's a lowlife that he doesn't even know the name off.

Outside, he can hear the fight continuing. He can't tell who's winning, but Ben figures that it's a miracle he can focus enough to hear the fight at all. He's not sure if he's going to pass out from oxygen deprivation or heat stroke first, but whichever it is, he hopes that it happens fast. Being found unconscious is better than being found whimpering and holding back tears. He refuses to let himself cry, but damn, does it sound like a good idea. He hasn't cried since he lost Feedback when he was eleven, but this feels worse than that ever did.

He's not sure how long he spends under the rocks. By the time the rubble above him begins to shift, Ben ignores it, convincing himself that it's just wishful thinking.

Fresh air hits him so hard that he actually chokes on it, coughing violently when hands reach between the debris to pull him out. They support his back, coaxing him to sit up. Thankfully, they don't ask him to stand. Ben is pretty sure that any attempt to stand will just end with him right back on the ground.

He can't tell who's holding him, but Rook must have called in backup at some point because there is definitely more than one person around him. There are voices shouting things that Ben doesn't want to listen to, and he can't help but wish that they would all just be quiet. His head is throbbing painfully, though Ben can't tell if it's because of the hit he took earlier, or because he's running on dust-fumes instead of clean air.

His eyes don't open, stuck shut with dirt that attached itself to every drop of moisture it could. At some point, someone tries to touch his right arm, only for Ben to react so strongly that they merely fold it over his chest and don't bother trying again.

The person holding him sets him down on what feels like a cot, which is much better for Ben's self-esteem. Being carried on top of being beaten by a low-brow Tetramand was a hard blow to his image for just one day. And with his luck, everyone at the Plumbers' base is going to know about it by the next day.

Using his good arm, Ben keeps his right arm against his chest. He's slowly getting used to the pain, but he's embarrassed to admit that it still has him shaking and hoping that one of the Plumbers brought some form of anesthetic.

Warm hands cradle his head, and Ben does his best to hold still while Rook wipes the build-up of dust and dirt off of his face. He doesn't need to open his eyes to know that it's his partner. Rook's hands are much bigger than his, with a thin coating of fur that would have tickled if Ben was in a playful mood. After a year of being partners, it would be more surprising if he didn't recognize Rook's touch.

He blinks a few times to get the rest of the dirt out of his eyes, grimacing as he looks around. "Jeez, Rook, did you call in the whole base?" He asks dryly. Part of his statement is hyperbolic, but it looks like over half of the Plumbers' base is swarming the destroyed town around them. Personally, Ben is just glad that they made all of the citizens evacuate before moving in.

In the distance, he can see two Plumber Tetramands struggling to hold the female back. She has several nets thrown over her and so many pairs of handcuffs latched to her wrists that Ben quickly gives up trying to make sense of it. Even as she's being corralled into one of the Plumber-grade armored trucks, she's still putting up an incredible fight. Ben knows that female Tetramands are typically stronger than the males, but regardless, the fury and power behind her struggles are ridiculous.

"I merely called for backup," Rook informs him, watching the Plumbers struggling to calm the Tetramand down. "Once they assessed the situation, they deemed it necessary to call for further reinforcements. It is a good thing that they did. Your arm is not supposed to look like that."

To this, Ben only nods. He's avoided looking at his arm so far, and he's going to keep it that way. "I'm fine," he says automatically.

It doesn't seem to convince Rook, but Ben can't blame him. He's breathing hard from the effort of not showing how much pain he's in, covered in bruises and cuts and a fine layer of dirt. Rook's Proto-Tool has a blade, and Ben privately wishes that his partner would use it to cut off the crushed limb. It feels so wrong against his chest — as if it's not even a part of his body. If it was gone, the pain would stop.

"Found the anesthesia!" A female Plumber that Ben doesn't know the name of jumps out of the back of the Plumber ambulance with a syringe in hand.

Ben has a moment to think, "oh, thank God," before there's a sharp prick in his good arm. The sedative sets in quickly, and there are people swarming him, hands lifting the cot into the back of the truck, and Rook's worried expression swims in his vision before it all finally goes black.

Waking up isn't how he thought it would be, either. Ben doesn't lay in bed for an hour struggling to regain consciousness. It doesn't happen gently, either. He pries his eyes open and shoots up in bed, heart pounding and struggling to remember how to breathe as he scans his surroundings. There's an immediate reaction — a swarm of people surrounds him, coaxing him to lay back down, while others check his vitals, make sure that he didn't pull out any of the IVs stuck in his arm, and some of them even shining lights in his eyes and fussing over the small bandages.

It takes Ben a moment to remember that he's kind of a big deal, and that of course, the Plumbers would spare no expense to make sure that the Savior of the Universe is alright. He's in one of the private areas in the Plumbers' infirmary, and the room is filled pretty much from wall-to-wall with doctors and nurses and ranking officers.

He doesn't see Rook, which leaves Ben more unsettled than he would like to admit. Laying on the hospital bed, he feels uncommonly weak, and he could really use a friendly, familiar face. Several times, he's been knocked unconscious in battle before. He's got a few scars and marks from some hard hits he's taken without his alien forms to shelter him. He can vividly remember how it felt to stop breathing, only to have Gwendolyn perform CPR on him and then wake up to a broken arm.

But this isn't like those instances. He isn't going to be able to walk this off any time soon, especially if the thick cast around his ankle has any say in the matter. His arm is limp at his side, feeling foreign attached to his torso, and he doubts that he's going to be allowed to just put it in a sling and wheel out of the infirmary in under an hour.

No one says anything to him. They say plenty of things to each other, with big words that Ben doesn't understand, but no one updates him on his condition or tells him what's going on.

It's frustrating, but he sits back and lets the doctors fuss around him, equal parts alien and human. There are a lot more Galvan than Ben thinks that there should be. He's not sure how long it all takes, but by the time he's allowed to have guests, he's struggling to keep his eyes open.

Of course, his tiredness is immediately forgotten when Gwendolyn rams into him. He bites his tongue to hold back a groan of pain, ignoring the burning sensation shooting up his arm and the sharp, stabbing pain in his chest.

"Gwendolyn," he wheezes, doing his best not to squirm as he sits up and hugs his cousin back with his good arm. "Jeez, if you're here, how long was I out?" He manages a laugh.

"A few hours." His answer comes from Kevin, who enters the room at a much calmer pace. Still, Ben can't help but be a little pleased by the thinly-veiled worry on his friend's face. "Don't worry, it's not like you were unconscious for days. As soon as your grandpa told us what happened, Gwendolyn teleported us here." He gives his girlfriend an unimpressed look. "Which I told her not to do, I should add. She almost passed out."

Behind him, Rook enters the room last. Ben relaxes at the sight of him. It feels good to have his partner around. "Um, Gwendolyn, are you sure that you should be squeezing Ben like that?" Rook asks, a frown on his face. "He has a lot of bruising on his chest, not to mention the extent of the damage to his arm."

Speaking of his arm, Ben can't wrap his mind around what the doctors were thinking. It's been bandaged, yes, but not very well. Ben isn't sure why that is. The doctors left before he could ask any questions.

At Rook's prompting, Gwendolyn lets go. She backs up quickly, looking alarmed. "Ben, why didn't you say anything?" She moves as though to touch him, only to just as quickly drop her hands. Ben feels bad for worrying her, but he's grateful that she's not fretting over him.

"It's fine, Gwendolyn," he assures her. "Just a, uh, stinging feeling. Whatever painkillers they have me on are working miracles." The faux smile on his face comes like second nature. It doesn't do much to reassure Gwendolyn, but she nods anyway and decides not to press it. To alleviate the tension, Ben clears his throat. "So, uh, where are mom and dad?"

Gwendolyn looks relieved by the change of subject. "Grandpa called them to tell them what happened," she explains. "They both wanted to leave work and come to see you immediately, but he managed to talk them out of it. The Plumbers don't plan on keeping you overnight, Ben. You'll probably be heading home with some strong painkillers tonight."

Ben nods. Privately though, he doesn't think that it makes much sense. His arm has been poorly bandaged and now they're not even going to keep him overnight? He's not a doctor, but he's pretty sure that having his arm shattered is a bit more serious than the way they're treating it. Is there something he's missing? No one is telling him anything, and the people that would tell him don't seem to know anything of substance. He's saved the universe plenty of times — why are they treating him like a child?

"We cannot be here for too long," Rook speaks up to fill the heavy silence. "Magister Tennyson asked Azmuth to come and talk about your accident. He will wish to speak to you alone."

Immediately, Ben feels more awake. He sits up straighter. "Wait. He called Azmuth?" Why? It's not like his Omnitrix arm is the one that got hurt. His left arm is as pristine as always. Other than some cuts and bruises and a faint throbbing sensation when he flexes the muscles, it all feels fine. The Omnitrix looks the same as always — not even a scratch. Why, then, would he care that Ben got hurt?

Kevin shrugs. "Dunno. He wouldn't tell us. It must be something pretty serious, though. They talked about it in private for a long time. Either way, to get Azmuth off of Galvin Prime, you know it's gotta be important."

Instead of replying, Ben only nods. He just hopes that it isn't another interstellar war or a planet in jeopardy something. As confident as he acts, Ben doesn't think that he's going to be much help with his arm the way it is. It's worse than a broken bone, and the last time he had his arm broken, he could barely fight even one of his weaker enemies. As much as he hates to admit it, the serious work is probably going to have to wait until he heals up.

'If you heal up,' he reminds himself petulantly.

Ben doesn't like to think about those negative emotions. Heroes don't have self-worth issues. He writes it off as just a part of being a teenager and something he'll eventually grow out of. Still, if he can't use the Omnitrix, then what does that make him? What if he's never able to use it again? What if Azmuth is only here to take it away and give it to someone more worthy?

He pushes the thoughts to the back of his mind, doing his best to ignore them. He's supposed to be a hero. The only reason he's injured in the first place is that he wasn't using the Omnitrix.

Without it, he really isn't anything more than a reckless kid.

A/N: Since literally no one I know likes Ben 10 (not even my editor (bless him for tolerating this)), if anyone would be interested in being a sort of peer reviewer to bounce ideas off of and clean up character inconsistencies, just let me know so we can get in contact — it would be such a huge help to talk to someone who's familiar with this show. Seriously. The more, the merrier.

The job does come with me explaining everything that will happen in this fic as well as its possible sequel, so as long as spoilers aren't a problem, talk to me.