A/N: I had no intention of this epilogue being as long as it is when I started writing. It ended up with eight parts so I'm going to quickly summarize what each part covers if you want to skip around. I wouldn't recommend doing that, but if it helps you get through 30k words, then feel free to. Taking breaks if you need to is also encouraged.

1) Azmuth begins treatment for Ben's arm, though the kind of help that he really needs is more emotional than physical.

2) With their stories coming to a similar ending, Tetrax offers some parting words that relate to him and Ben both.

3) Things with Kevin are the same as ever, but Gwen has some tough advice to give Ben and she won't be taking no for an answer.

4) Forgiving is hard but, for Rook, Ben is willing to try.

5) Ben still has some parting words and a few goodbyes to give, and he isn't the only one.

6) It's the day of the funeral and Ben is finally starting to understand what starting over and moving on is really all about.

7) There are many different kinds of forgiveness — and they can come from the most unlikely of places.

8) It's time to go home. For Ben, for the time being, it's finally over.

There will be a longer author's note at the end. For now, please just enjoy the epilogue! The past year I've spent writing this fic has been amazing and, to all of those who have supported me, I can't thank you enough.

PART ONE

Ben wasn't entirely sure what to call the room that he found himself in. He couldn't even say that it looked "high-tech," because he was aboard a Galvan mothership and every square inch of the damn thing looked like it was made of CGI leaps and bounds ahead of anything Earth could achieve. And it was very green. The color should have been comforting, but it wasn't. Nothing felt very comforting. There was a hole, like a chasm had opened in the pit of Ben's stomach and every time he swallowed he could feel it cramping and twisting his insides.

He had been given a too-big shirt to wear on the Rustbucket, courtesy of Kevin's back-up stash just in case he needed it after a fight. So Ben sat on what he thought was an examination table, bare-footed and coaxed in a layer of grime, dried sweat, and brown blood. Kevin's shirt hung down to his mid-thighs, covering his shorts when Ben stood, and the sleeves were too long. He curled his fingers into the hem of the shirt, plucking at the loose threads absently. Even his nails were blackened and caked in blood. The sight of himself made Ben grimace. He was glad that there wasn't a mirror. He knew that the bags under his eyes had to be purple bruises by that point, that his hair would stick in a thousand different ways and be clumpy with blood, that he would look pale and skinny. He would look like someone that could be knocked over in a faint breeze.

And Ben didn't want that. He had spent so long pushing, so long proving to himself that he could do it… He refused to acknowledge any weakness, not after he had finally succeeded.

It didn't feel like a success. Ben felt like a part of him had died back on that satellite.

He kicked his legs back and forth, flexing his toes idly. It was sort of interesting to just… sit there. And breathe. And not think. To do nothing but watch his human body move. There were so many little muscles, Ben thought. All of his aliens had complex anatomy, but he had never really paused to appreciate being human. Or being human without being in pain, which had become a rarity over the… however long it was since he had been kidnapped by Murowa. Ben wasn't sure that he wanted to know, exactly. It was as if knowing somehow made it real. He ignored his peranite hand, limp at his side, and focused on wiggling his toes.

The door to the room (Ben was starting to think that it was a medical examination room) slid open with an automated hiss. When Ben got near anything, it all shifted to accommodate his larger size. He had no idea how Azmuth had worked out technology like that, but the effect was sort of comical, to watch the Creator of the Omnitrix, self-reported smartest being in at least three galaxies be dwarfed by his own ship.

Azmuth, of course, saw no humor in it. But for once, Ben wasn't cracking jokes. He said nothing, waiting in silence as Azmuth's hoverpad levelled itself with the examination table. There was a level of urgency to his actions that Ben wasn't familiar with seeing first-hand. He hadn't expected Azmuth to be so… concerned? Frustrated? Perplexed?

Whatever it was, it was keeping Azmuth even more straight-faced than he was normally. He came up to Ben's side and touched a hand to the peranite crawling up over his human skin. There were many small devices with him, but Ben didn't ask what they were for or what they measured. He pursed his lips and sat through the discomfort as Azmuth used a machine to chip a piece of the peranite off and draw blood from where the crystal was just skin-like enough that Ben could still feel it.

They were both silent for what felt like a long time. Ben studied Azmuth's face, pinched with frustration and steely-eyed. It was sort of hard to tell what Galvans were thinking, but thanks to his time as Grey Matter, Ben felt that he had a better idea than most. Azmuth made near-silent noises in his chest when he was upset. Ben was pretty sure that most Galvans did — it sounded almost like a frog croaking.

He thought about what to say while Azmuth continued working. There were a lot of readings to be taken and measurements to be gathered, apparently. Ben supposed that he wouldn't know. He had never been genetically damaged before. But eventually, what he settled on saying was, "I'm sorry."

The words had exactly the reaction that Ben had been hoping for. He had never, not once in his life, said those words to Azmuth or even in the man's proximity. And the reverse was also true, of course. Shocked, Azmuth dropped the little scanner that he was holding and fumbled for it. He managed to regain a tight grip on it, which was a relief because Ben wasn't sure that catching it with his peranite arm would have helped. It probably would have shattered on impact.

Straightening back up, Azmuth shot Ben a glare that was skin deep. It was sort of hard to take him seriously when his eyes closed sideways and his face always looked wrinkly and scrunched-up. He thought of a good response for a minute but, in the end, could only manage, "Why would you say something like that?"

Which was an interesting way to phrase the question. Ben studied Azmuth for a moment and then looked away, giving a one-armed shrug. "I don't know, just… You seem upset. More upset and grouchy than usual, anyway. I was waiting for you to go on a rant about how unbelievable it is that you had to come out here, that I'm an idiot for letting this happen, that you're going to be behind on tons of more important work because I somehow managed something as stupid and impossible as this…" Ben trailed off with a sigh. "So I guess I'm sorry for making your life more difficult. Again. Sort of feels like that's all I've done since Xenon."

Neither of them had brought up the day that they met since… well, ever. It had never occurred to Ben that he needed to mention it and, if his reaction was anything to go by, Azmuth had sort of been hoping for that. He blinked slowly, stunned, and the machine he was holding slipped from his grasp. He set it down carefully before it could fall, not looking at Ben. Which was funny, because Ben didn't think that he could stop looking at Azmuth.

It felt like a lifetime ago: the sort of memory that was ageless and ancient. Even though seven years was probably only a tiny fraction of Azmuth's long time alive, the look in his eyes said without words that he knew exactly how Ben was feeling. Things had been so much simpler back then. Even with the fate of the entire universe on his shoulders for the first time, Ben couldn't remember an easier time in his life than being ten-years-old on summer vacation with his grandpa and cousin. Maybe it was his youth or his raw enthusiasm but, even looking back, Ben felt that he was so… happy. Just so pleased to be kicking butt, to be living the life he had always dreamed of, to be a hero.

Azmuth had changed too, even if he didn't want to admit it. But whereas Ben had aged — aged so many years that he'd lost count of them — Azmuth had gotten younger. He was still snarky and impatient, and more than a little bit jaded, but he was also hopeful. He looked forward to the future, rather than merely regarding it as a pointless inevitability. He had gone back to Galvan Prime, advanced them to the limits of what the galaxy thought possible and then further. He had learned to believe in people again, to trust that things could and would get better, to develop a sliver of compassion that hadn't been there even seven years ago.

Slowly, Ben managed to find the words. He licked his lips and, tentatively, said, "Do you remember five years ago? When I asked… When I begged that you take the Omnitrix off?"

That snapped him out of his haze. Azmuth looked at Ben for a moment, stared hard at him. He didn't scrutinize him as though looking at a stranger. No, Azmuth looked as though he were studying a mirror, or an old friend. "Yes," he said finally. "Do you want me to do it again?"

Always right to the point. Blunt and brash, just the Azmuth that Ben remembered. He quirked his lips into a fond little half-smile and shook his head. "No. I think I just like knowing that I have the option. Sometimes…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Sometimes this feels more like an obligation than a choice. Like the Omnitrix really is a part of me even though it comes off easier than ever now. It was nice, you know. Being… without it." Ben cut himself off, swallowing the lump in his throat. He knew that Azmuth understood. Those years of isolation on Xenon, away from responsibilities and stress, sounded heavenly sometimes. Like Ben would give just about anything to play Sumo Slammers for a day without being attacked or called to fix something or finding himself thrust into a crisis. He sighed and slumped. "But it's not what makes me happy. Sure, breaks are nice occasionally and all, but I couldn't do that long-term. It's not who I am. I have to help people. And not because I'm wearing the Omnitrix," he amended, "but because I really can't imagine myself doing anything else."

There was no real reason that Ben had shared that. He had wanted to put it out there and felt, almost inexplicably, that Azmuth would understand. It was a feeling that Ben had always had and never needed to question.

Relaxing a little, Azmuth gave a faint smile. "Heroes don't have to carry the entire universe. It's an awful lot of weight. If you're not careful, it will crush you."

Ben gave a half-hearted shrug. "Everything seems to be working out so far. All that I've seen of my future looks pretty good. So if I am going to go out with a bang one day, I might as well do as much good as I can until then, right?" He held up his crystallized wrist. "You'll find someone else to wear this after I'm dead, won't you?"

"No." Azmuth's reply was immediate and his expression turned soft in a way that made Ben's chest tight. "No, I don't think I'm qualified. I didn't pick you, Ben. And if I had "chosen" anyone, this hypothetical champion no doubt would have done a far worse job than you have. I think it's best that, one day in the far future, you choose. I'm certain that you'll make a good decision." He chuckled. "Although, it will be hard to live up to your legacy. It's incomparable." A pause. "Or, more aptly, you're incomparable."

It wasn't until Ben realized that his cheeks were hurting that he noticed the smile on his face. It had been a while since he'd grinned and it felt good. Like coming back to himself, almost. "I know you're tiny, but would it be awkward if I hugged you?"

And like flipping a switch, the moment was over. Azmuth's familiar scowl slumped back onto his face. "Extremely so. Now be silent, stop flailing around, and let me look at your wrist."

Still grinning like an idiot, Ben nonetheless complied. He offered Azmuth his arm again and was quiet for almost a full minute before he was unable to help himself anymore. "If it makes you feel any better, I get angry and protective about you, too. It's nothing to be ashamed of," Ben joked.

It wasn't really a joke, though. Maybe Azmuth was able to tell because, engrossed in his work, he said nothing. Although, upon closer inspection, Ben could have sworn that Azmuth was hiding a smile.

PART TWO

First things first, Ben showered. Azmuth wasn't convinced that Murowa's little trick in healing Ben's side was as thorough as it looked. Which was the nice way of saying that he thought Ben might have internal bleeding and that it was safest to do a full-body check-up while Azmuth was busy working on the cure for the genetic damage to his arm. So technically, Ben wasn't supposed to be up and moving, let alone out of his human-sized hospital bed, but he hadn't managed to sit still for longer than two minutes. Lingering injuries aside, Ben was sick of finding dried blood splatters all over himself and tired of smelling like he hadn't gotten to shower in two weeks. Which was accurate.

His hospital room was spacious and plain, but still visibly a lot nicer than anything available on Earth. It wasn't even really a "hospital room," though that was what Ben thought of it as. Most of the rooms on Azmuth's ship had a function setting, accessed through a panel next to the door. It would shift a room into whatever it needed to be. And, at the moment, the generic Galvan sleeping quarters had been made into a "patient room," because it was the closest available room to the emergency operations room, which was not able to be changed. It didn't inspire a lot of faith, but Ben was too drained to care. Besides, it was really cool to watch the room disassemble and remake itself into something entirely different. Ben used that to distract himself so he didn't have to think too much. Since he arrived on the ship, a steady headache had begun pulsing just behind his eyes and it was getting worse by the hour.

The others were on the ship too, somewhere. The Petrosapiens included, obviously. Apparently, they were going to be questioned so that the Plumbers knew exactly what had happened. But with the criminals all dead and an ally to get back home to Petropia and bury, it felt more like a play than anything meaningful.

The hospital-like room came with a joint bathroom, so Ben carefully pulled the tubes out of his arm before getting up and walking over to it. The Galvan doctors were notified immediately, if the beeping from his bed meant anything, but Ben didn't really care. They could try to stop him, though it wouldn't be easy. And, frankly, he didn't really think that they were going to bother. Although, it might annoy Azmuth if he was told.

Ben slipped into the bathroom and locked it, shrugging out of the too-big robe they had given him. He just had his boxers on, which was the only part of his clothing that was still salvageable. The hem was stained with blood. Maybe Gwen or Grandpa brought clothes that he could change into, once he was done being hooked up to machines and things were calmer.

It took a few minutes to figure out how to turn on the Galvan shower. At least it had resized to be big enough for Ben. All the while, a large mirror glared at him from where it was embedded in the opposite wall. Ben resolutely ignored it. He didn't want to look into any mirror.

If he did, Ben wasn't sure who he was going to see.

Regardless, the shower eventually turned on and Ben figured out how to get hot water running. Even just letting the spray run between his fingers and over his arm, testing the temperature, Ben couldn't help but let out a pleased sigh. The water that dripped off of his fingertips was tinted grey and it left lines on his arm where his skin was lighter because the layer of dirt had been washed away.

He stepped out of his boxers and got into the shower, shoulders slumping as he hunched in on himself, closed his eyes, and just… felt. Just enjoyed the spray. Even the sound of water bouncing off of his peranite arm with little clinking noises, like rattling coins, couldn't ruin it. Ben blinked his eyes open and appreciated having his hair hang in front of his eyes, plastered to his skull with something other than sweat. It was longer than he remembered. He thought dimly that he could get it cut back on Earth, but decided against it. Maybe Ben could start wearing it longer, or he could get a pair of scissors and cut it himself. The second thought appealed to him for a reason that he couldn't describe.

Looking down at himself, Ben watched the dark water run down his body and swirl down the drain. Clumps of dirt built up and he pushed them the rest of the way with his foot. He waited until the water was clear before grabbing something that looked, smelled, and felt like a bar of soap. The texture was off, probably meant for Galvan's rougher skin, but Ben wasn't in a mood to be picky. He scrubbed himself raw, until the last of the blood and dirt and sweat was gone and his whole body was an angry, irritated shade of red. He threaded his soapy fingers through his clumpy hair, scrubbing the strands between his fingers and pulling out knots until, eventually, he could finally drag a hand all the way through without catching himself on any unruly locks.

It felt normal. Ben had almost forgotten how nice that feeling was.

When he got out, the mirror was fogged up. That was fine. All the better, as a matter of fact. Ben moved his arms, watching his barely-visible reflection copy him. His peranite arm glinted off of the mirror, the end of it pinching the nerves of his arms with every jostle. Frowning, he very quickly stopped and dried himself off with the only towel in the room. It was nice to see the fabric come away damp, instead of grey and brown like a part of Ben feared it would be. He pulled his clothes back on and left without sparing a glance at the mirror.

The Galvan doctors waiting for him outside did not appreciate Ben's shower as much as he did. As soon as he pushed open the door, three of them took him by his good arm from atop hoverpads and another nudged on Ben's back, insistently shoving him back into bed. One thing he had noticed about Galvans was that they weren't very talkative. It was a general observation, not that it had anything to do with him. The way that his doctors fussed was almost cute, though. It reminded Ben of how Azmuth treated him.

He had considered before that Galvans might hold some level of respect for him, considering that he wielded their First Thinker's most esteemed creation, but he had never gotten confirmation. Ben's doctors had said maybe ten words to him collectively, and yet, there was no denying that they took looking after him very seriously.

He laid back in bed and closed his eyes as tests were conducted. The tubes were put back in his arms and he was hooked up to other devices, all of which Ben couldn't describe or even begin to guess the name of. It was quiet, save the beeping of machinery, as the Galvans worked. They paid most of their attention to Ben's stomach, his robe untied in the front and pushed out of the way so they could see his side. His smaller wounds were taken care of, too. Every bump and bruise and scratch. At one point, Ben even felt something tingly and warm along his ankle and then, when it was removed again, the faint pain was gone too. Ben had forgotten that he'd twisted his ankle, back before getting kidnapped. The dull throbbing had been pushed to the back of his mind and he hadn't thought about it since.

One of the machines made an angry beeping noise. Immediately, all other work on him stopped and several other Galvans came over to see the results for a scanner that hovered over Ben's side. Oh, that couldn't be good. Ben frowned, trying hard not to remember the searing pain of stitching himself up. Some of the Galvans noticed his distress, but only one of them bothered to try and explain anything to him.

"A slight problem," she said. "The way that your side was healed caused thick scar tissue. We have to cut it open again and let you heal more slowly or you risk ripping it the next time you stretch. There is still some minor internal bleeding so we'll fix that too."

"Oh." That was surprisingly straight forward. Ben blinked. "Uh, thanks, then."

The Galvan smiled, but nothing more was said. The machines were tucked away and the bed, apparently equipped with a hover feature, was moved out of the room and into the neighboring surgical ward. While the surgeons bustled around getting everything ready, Ben's bed reclined until he was laying flat. It hardened under him, turning from a synthetic mattress to cold steel in seconds. Ben tried to focus on that instead of what was happening around him. He didn't want to see any of the needles or scalpels.

He did his best to hold still as Galvans, on their hoverpads, moved his robe out of the way and began applying numbing cream to his side. He didn't like the feeling, but it was best not to give Azmuth a reason to have Ben strapped down. Not because he was worried about the wrath of a foot-tall, twenty-pound alien old man, but because the idea of being tied down made Ben fight back a shudder.

He did his best to relax and get as comfortable as he could — which wasn't easy, wearing nothing but boxers in a horribly wide-open room that was all sterile steel and freezing to the touch. His head twisted to the side and Ben found himself staring out the viewing window. It was a little funny to have that in a surgical room but, Ben reasoned, that probably happened when the ship was constantly moving and rebuilding itself like the Perplexahedron. When he woke up, the window would probably be gone and their room would be in a different part of the ship entirely.

But at least for the moment, it was a nice view. Petropia was nowhere in sight, which he had expected. There was only the steady, dull pulsing of the giant star, far in the distance, that Ben had helped create. The Galvan ship was far enough away from it that the light didn't hurt his eyes, though Ben still didn't like looking at it. He focused on the stars in the background instead, imagining that he was looking up at Earth's night sky. He didn't know any constellations, but that only made it easier to pretend.

There was the familiar whoosh of an automatic door sliding open. Ben craned his head back, faintly surprised to see Tetrax approaching. He had been expecting Rook or Gwen or Kevin or, hell, all three of them. Grandpa Max had given them orders to let Ben get patched up before hounding him but he hadn't actually expected his friends to listen to that. Evidently, Tetrax hadn't gotten the memo. Was he even allowed to be in the operating room? The Galvans tending to Ben muttered unhappily but, at least for the moment, didn't think that trying to force Tetrax to leave was worth the time.

The memory of their last conversation made Ben burn with embarrassment. Why had he said those things? He turned away from Tetrax, frowning at the ceiling. A part of him hoped that the older man would take the hint and leave, but to the cheer of Ben's other thought process, Tetrax stayed.

Nothing was said between them at first. Poised in front of the window that Ben had been gazing through, Tetrax had his back to the examination table. The Galvin medics continued to work heedless of the interruption, though Ben could tell by their indignant frowns that they weren't pleased with having an audience.

Staring up at the ceiling, Ben heard the crack of peranite, crystals grinding together unpleasantly as Tetrax turned to look back at him. The sound made Ben wince.

Sure enough, when Ben eventually gave in and turned to face him, Tetrax was looking him over with an unreadable expression on his face. Ben turned red all over again, mortified and frustrated. He was the hero. And yet, there he was, stretched out in a private medical bay and in need of surgery. Worse still, that Tetrax had to be seeing Ben like that. It could have been anyone else and he would have found a way to be okay with it. But Tetrax? The man that Ben admired and respected and wanted to impress? The man that he had already humiliated himself in front of plenty of times over the course of his stay on Petropia?

Ben opened his mouth, intent on asking Tetrax to leave and spare him the self-depreciation. But instead of a firm, cocky demand, what came out of Ben's mouth was; "Tetrax, look. About what I said back there… on the station… I didn't—"

"Did I ever tell you the mythos for our planet's creation?" Tetrax interrupted. He had turned away again, staring thoughtfully out the window. The light of the star cast the creases of his face into flickering shadows, dyeing his features with disappointment.

Though Ben flinched, he thought long and hard about the question and couldn't find any double-meaning behind the words. He stared at Tetrax for a moment, considering whether or not he should answer. Then, hesitant, he admitted, "No, you haven't. Does it matter?"

The second half of that statement went ignored by Tetrax. He hummed, as though the six words that Ben said carried the weight of worlds behind them. Silence fell again. Only once Ben was convinced that Tetrax wasn't going to answer his own question did he finally speak. "Eons ago, there was the beginning of the universe. It was a catastrophic and dangerous time for any newly-forming planets. Stars, however, formed volitally and thrived in the scorching, explosive environment. Petropia's star, embodied by the God Adustio, was one of the first stars to ever form in this galaxy. Adustio was a quiet, secluded man by nature. He didn't mind the solitude at first, but as years dragged on by the millions and billions and the universe around him began to calm, he found himself yearning for company."

There, Tetrax paused. He glanced behind him as though to be sure that Ben was paying attention. And he was, though he still didn't really understand the point of the story and it was a little distracting having busy Galvans buzzing around him and running their tiny hands all over his torso.

Seemingly pleased with his attentiveness regardless, Tetrax continued. "With the leftover debris caught in his orbit, Adustio formed his three beautiful daughters. Each one shone like a star in its own right, though they were more special than that in their father's eyes. He had created them — and, indeed, all women of our species — with the potential for life and wanted nothing more than to see his children flourish.

"The eldest, Fengári, was brattish in every way. She considered herself of higher importance than her sisters for no reason other than because she wanted to be more important." Tetrax grimaced. "She was the most selfish of all Adustio's children, carrying about no one and nothing besides what would earn her her father's attention. She became so possessed with it that her orbit strayed too close, scorching her once-lovely features and rendering her uninhabitable and unloveable."

Another pause. Ben almost interrupted — hadn't he heard the name Fengári somewhere else before? — but Tetrax, gazing longingly out the window, pushed onward.

"The middle child was named Månsken. She was less self-absorbed than her older sister, but spineless and cowardly. She stuck herself to Fengári almost as much as the eldest stuck herself to Adustio. When Månsken saw the fate of her sister, she tried to turn away, but it was too late. For her impudence and fear, she too was rendered unliveable and cast aside," Tetrax said almost sadly.

That time, when his friend didn't immediately continue his story, Ben took the chance and decided to speak up. He wanted to ask what the point was and why some old creation myth was so important that it couldn't wait until after the Galvans had finished their emergency medical care, but those words never left his lips. "What about the third sister?" Ben asked, mouth dry. "What about her?"

Tetrax shot him a rueful smile, finally turning to face Ben fully. "Berlian was the youngest of Adustio's daughters. She shone bright enough to rival her father and was as stubborn as she was fierce. Unlike her sisters, she was never drawn toward the love that her father could provide. It was with determination and confidence that she wanted to make her own mark on the universe. And so she did — in the form of plants and animals and by bestowing the gift of consciousness on the most worthy species to populate her harsh terrain." He tapped a fist to his chest proudly. "It was Berlian who birthed the Petrosapien species, who would eventually rename their mother with "Petropia." Adustio was so impressed, so taken by his daughter's accomplishments, that he gifted her what remained of Fengári and Månsken. They have orbited her as moons — mere shells of their former selves — ever since."

Silence.

Ben contemplated the story with one eyebrow arched, a confused expression on his face. Based on the way the Galvans were giggling, they were taking the myth as seriously as Ben was. But the supposed truthfulness behind it wasn't what had him lost in thought.

"Okay," he said finally. "That's… pretty messed up, but considering what I know about Petrosapien culture or whatever, I'm not really surprised. As cool as all of that is, Tetrax, what does the story have to do with me?" He assumed that Tetrax wouldn't be telling it so dramatically if there was no point to it. True, they didn't spend a lot of time together, but Ben knew that Tetrax wasn't the type to waste his time on frivolous tales with no point.

Sure enough, when Tetrax answered, he didn't go for the subtle approach at all. "You can consider Adustio the public: the normal, ungifted people that you protect and seek validation from. Ben, in all the choices I've made in my long, long life, I find it only fitting that I take the name of Fengári for this story." He smiled humorlessly. "I've burned myself. The people of Petropia… they will never accept me as one of their own again, not after everything I've done. This year since we brought Petropia back, Ben, has been nightmarish. I've been punishing myself, but why? To seek the approval of people who will never give it? People I'll never meet or will ever have any significance in my life?" He shook his head, grimacing. "You've been doing the same, Ben. I can see how you vie for their attention, even now. You want to be celebrated like a hero, told that you've done a good job and that everyone is so much better for you having been there… but they'll never give you what you need, Ben, only superficial words that we both know are empty when it really matters."

The distance between them closed abruptly. Ignoring the working Galvans entirely, Tetrax leaned over the table to look down at Ben with surprising softness in his eyes. "The thing is," he muttered, wiping away any thought from Ben's mind that wasn't focused around the two of them, "in this story, I consider you to be Berlian. You have so much potential, Ben, so much good in you. I don't want to see you throw that out for something as shallow as public approval. And I think that you feel the same way," he added, "or else you wouldn't have come as far as you have. It takes a special kind of person to do what you do."

Ben didn't look away, somehow convinced that Tetrax would evaporate like smoke if he so much as blinked. "Tetrax, I'm really not—"

But Tetrax was shaking his head, cutting him off. "Don't say it, Ben. It would be a lie. Even if you don't want to admit it, I've met no one in my long, long life that could do what you've done here. And all of the other good you've done.. Just… think about what I said, at least. The next time you visit Petropia, I don't want you to be disappointed when no one spills out into the streets cheering your name." His smile returned as he straightened up, looking sad and a little fond. "Get some rest and heal up. You're not the type to stay out of commission for long." With that, Tetrax ruffled Ben's hair and was out the door before he could so much as think about offering up a protest.

Even though he didn't want to, Ben did sleep. His thoughts quieted as a needle sank into his arm. The Galvan doctor next to him was saying something, but Ben didn't hear it. He closed his eyes and then there was nothing.

PART THREE

Ben had been in surgery before. Once, when he got his tonsils removed as a kid. But it was so far back in the clogged recesses of his memories that he couldn't remember much about it. He remembered the suddenness of the anesthesia and feeling that everything had a dream-like quality to it when he woke up. But he could remember that he hadn't woken up so easily or in a bedroom.

It didn't even feel like Ben had been put under for a surgery. He blinked up at the ceiling a few times, half-expecting his mom to come in and lecture him about sleeping through his alarm and usher him out of bed. But he could feel that the mattress beneath him wasn't his own and could see the green and grey of the walls, so the illusion didn't last long. He had been tucked into bed wearing his boxers, with plastic-textured bandages wrapped neatly around his abdomen. Nothing hurt, not even when he stretched. His clothes were clean and folded neatly on the side table for Ben to put on when he was ready. If he could ignore the room, everything felt blissfully normal.

His left hand was still peranite — he could feel it, even if he couldn't see it. At some point while drugged into unconsciousness, Azmuth must have paid a visit because there was a sort of metal cast around his affected arm. It was like an arm sleeve, capping over his fingers in a cylinder shape and extending up his forearm to his elbow. The steel shone brightly, new and probably only made hours ago, and it was covered in blinking lights and buttons and dials and displays that were probably best left alone. Ben could still bend his arm, but it was like having a piece of metal for a limb instead of flesh-and-blood. It wasn't all that different from just having the peranite, actually.

As nice as it was to lie in bed all day, Ben sat up anyway. He had some questions that he wanted answered. He wanted to ask Azmuth what he should expect next, he wanted to see Grandpa Max, he wanted to call home to his parents, and…

He wanted to see Kevin. His relationship with Rook was still a little shaky and Gwen would no doubt want to talk about what they had seen in Ben's subconscious, with Murowa, and… Ben didn't think that he was ready for it. Tiredness clung to him like a second skin. It felt impossible to be comfortable in a position other than a slouch.

If he was going to see any of his friends, Ben wanted to see Kevin. He could relate to genetic damage at least somewhat and he wouldn't give Ben a hard time or any odd looks. Kevin could pretend that everything was normal, that they were hanging out just like they used to, and Ben could force himself to believe it, at least for a few minutes. Things with Kevin had always felt blessedly simple, even if their relationship was arguably the most complicated out of all of Ben's friend group.

He didn't think it was that complex, though. Kevin had changed. They could watch football together and talk about alien technology and disagree without hating each other for it. He was an easy person to be friends with and Ben had never taken the time to appreciate that.

Getting out of bed, Ben felt a little tug in his abdomen. It didn't hurt, though. He assumed that it was a normal thing, probably something that his doctor would encourage. Letting that scar tissue harden again to the point of immobility would be a stupid idea. Ben grabbed Kevin's shirt and the shorts that he had been wearing before, hiding a grimace. He had been wearing those same shorts since he first got kidnapped and he would like a change of clothes. Asking seemed disrespectful, though. At least they had been cleaned, still an ugly moss-green but thankfully finally free of blood stains.

Dressed, there wasn't much else to do in his room. Ben looked around, but it seemed like a pretty standard, albeit nice, barrack room. He had a bed, a side table, and an empty shelf, all mounted to the wall. A touch-screen on the wall controlled the lighting and temperature and opened the door. He waved his hand in front of it and the door slid up, letting Ben pass through before closing behind him with a soft hiss.

Once in the hallway, everything looked the same down either side. The doors were all identical and, if Ben had to guess, the rooms would be too. His stomach growled and his throat was dry. Finding food would be nice but, more cosmetically, Ben wanted to find a hair brush. Maybe some mouthwash, too. He wanted to do those mundane parts of his morning routine.

Ben missed brushing his hair almost as much as he missed grass. Which was saying a lot. He would give just about anything for fresh air and a blue sky above him.

He stood there stupidly for a few moments, contemplating which way to go. Ben almost tried using the Omnitrix to call someone, only to remember that it was encased in steel with the rest of his arm and that, even if it wasn't, Murowa had taken the speaker out.

(He winced and promptly — forcibly — shoved the thought of her away.)

Thankfully, Ben didn't have to worry about what he was going to do for very long. He had just decided to try going right when, from the left, he heard footsteps and someone rounded the corner. And, much to Ben's relief, "someone" turned out to be Kevin.

Despite himself, Ben's face broke out into a grin. He jogged over to meet Kevin half-way, and barely got out a, "Hey, dude," before Kevin had slung an arm around Ben's shoulders and given him a fond squeeze. He probably would have ruffled Ben's hair too, but his other hand was preoccupied with holding a tray, stacked with alien food and containers full of a liquid that Ben desperately hoped was water.

"Up and walking already, Tennyson?" Kevin joked. He pulled back, but kept his arm where it was around Ben's shoulders. The solidness of it was comforting in a way that was hard to describe. It felt like, if Ben tipped over, he would never have to worry about hitting the ground again. "You probably shouldn't be walking, actually. Doctor's orders. You might want to sit down before Gwendolyn sees you, otherwise she'll nag you all the way to Galvan Prime."

"We're going to Galvan Prime?" Ben blinked in surprise. "Why? We're done, right? We can go home." The thought of having to wait even longer to see Earth again made him want to scream or cry or both.

Kevin shrugged with the arm that wasn't around Ben and started walking, back down the hall. "It's for your arm," he said offhandedly, as if it wasn't a big deal. As if it didn't mean anything life-changing. As if Ben had nothing to be ashamed of. "You were in surgery, but damn, you should have seen Azmuth ranting and raving. Apparently, you've got a whole lot of damage that he's not entirely sure how to treat. But don't let his bad attitude fool you." Kevin snickered. "He wasn't upset that he doesn't know the answer off the top of his head for once. He's mostly upset because the Omnitrix has fail safes that are supposed to prevent this and he blames himself for letting you get hurt."

For a moment, Ben's throat was tight with emotion. Then he steeled himself, arched an eyebrow, and joked, "Yeah, maybe, but good luck getting him to admit it."

The grin on Kevin's face said that he knew exactly what Ben was doing, but also that he didn't mind. "Ah, the pipsqueak means well. We'll probably be on Galvan Prime for at least a week, or however long it takes Azmuth to crack this thing with your arm. Although…" Kevin frowned and his walking lagged. "...we were invited to Popigai's funeral. Y'know, if you feel up to attending. No one would blame you if you didn't want to go."

Maybe Ben was imagining it, but he could have sworn that Kevin pulled him closer. It was just a little nudge of the arm and he wasn't even looking at Ben when he did it, but warmth filled him anyway. God, he had missed his friends.

The thought of skipping out on the funeral was disgustingly tempting. Ben didn't think that he had the energy to go back to Petropia, especially considering what Tetrax had said right before his surgery. No one was going to respect him. People would blame him. He was never going to be good enough to earn their admiration. But then, Igneous and Kimberlite would be there. Popigai was their friend. And he was Ben's friend, too. For a while there, he had been the only person that Ben trusted. He had trusted Popigai with his life and that was the only reason that the man was dead and Ben wasn't.

Attending his funeral wasn't even a question.

"I'll go," Ben said resolutely. "It's the least I can do for him, right? After…" He trailed off. Right. Kevin hadn't been there when Ben was alone with Popigai. He had no idea what had happened between them, just that one day, Popigai had been alive and then he wasn't. Ben didn't have the energy to explain it all. He let his sentence end unfinished, hanging in the air between them like a question.

Though Kevin didn't look convinced, he nodded anyway. "Uh-huh," he said slowly. "Well, if you're sure. It'll be in about a week or so. They're still planning it, but Igneous said he'd keep us updated. We'll head over to Petropia when it's time." They paused outside of the door next to the one that Ben had come out of. Kevin, only then seeming to realize that he was still hanging onto Ben, awkwardly removed his arm and switched the tray that he was holding to his other hand. "Do you want to come in? Gwendolyn's in there. We have food and water. I figure that you're probably pretty hungry."

And, yeah, Ben was. He pressed a hand over his stomach, feeling how it ached and pulsed. His mouth was salivating uncontrollably, on and off, and his abdomen kept cramping. It had been easier to ignore before Kevin brought it up.

The grimace on Ben's face must have said enough. Kevin frowned in concern. "Dude… When was the last time you ate?" He asked softly, like he didn't want to know the answer.

There was no way that Ben could answer that without making the conversation more uncomfortable than it already was, so he didn't try. "We shouldn't keep Gwen waiting," he replied with forced enthusiasm. Reaching over, Ben waved his hand in front of the touchpad and it opened to a bedroom that was nearly identical to the one that he had woken up in.

A few differences were noticeable. For one, Gwen and Kevin both had their own bags with spare clothes, set in different places in the room. It felt more lived in and they had definitely made themselves comfortable. A small stack of books was on the bedside table. Some miscellaneous pieces of Galvan technology had been left scattered around, probably for Kevin to try and adapt to his car once they got back to Earth.

But, primarily, Gwen was there. She was sitting on the bed, staring intently at the book in her hand, then she blinked and the book hit the floor at the same time that she crashed into him. Even though she knew that he was alright, Gwen hugged him like Ben was on the verge of death all over again. Helpless and fond, Ben clutched her back, digging his hands into her shirt and appreciating the way that Gwen felt when she was human. Her mana hummed against him still, but she was heavy and warm in his arms the same was that Kevin was and the smell of her, the familiar way their bodies fell into sync with each other, made him feel choked up.

"Hey, cuz," Ben muttered after a quiet moment where all they did was hold each other. "Is your hair longer?"

She laughed, this wheezing sound that sounded like she'd just been punched. But Gwen was still smiling when she pulled back, no tears in her eyes, so Ben thought that it was a good sound, all in all. "Maybe a little." She twisted a finger around one strand. "I'm thinking about going shorter with it. You could use a haircut too."

Ben managed a smile. He brushed his bangs back and they fell right into place almost immediately, hanging in front of his eyes. "Maybe I'll keep it longer, if you're going shorter. Man buns are back in style, right?"

Behind him, Kevin laughed. He nudged Ben forward into the room and entered behind him. "They never have been and they never will be," he said resolutely. "Besides, you couldn't pull off a man bun. Maybe you should try a mullet."

That made Gwen giggle and Ben rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure, and you're the one saying that man buns are out of style. I'm sure a mullet is a lot better." He closed the door and followed after Kevin, to where he had nudged Gwen's books to the side and set the food tray down on the nightstand. None of the food looked familiar but Ben grabbed something that looked like a purple cookie and popped it into his mouth. It turned out to be some sort of tough meat, but he sat down on the bed and chewed on it absently. "So, how long until we get to Galvan Prime? I'm not sure how long I was out for."

Gwen took the spot next to him and Kevin leaned his back against the wall, both of them reaching over to grab food and eat it every now and then. Frankly, Ben was struggling not to dump all of it into his mouth at once. "We'll be there in a few hours," Gwen said. "They're going easy on the FTL travel. Apparently, it can aggravate wounds. Which isn't surprising. There's a reason the limits on those things are so strict and seriously monitored." She waved a finger at Ben disapprovingly, gaze lingering on his side. "You weren't out for very long, though. Maybe an hour or two. They didn't have any problems with your surgery. It only took a few minutes, actually. But Azmuth thought they should let you sleep and wake up on your own."

Despite himself, Ben softened. He knew Azmuth wouldn't admit that he cared about Ben directly, not even if his life depended on it. But that was alright. Some people didn't feel comfortable saying it aloud and Azmuth said it in plenty of other ways. Letting Ben keep the Omnitrix even after his numerous mistakes was, in Ben's opinion, the biggest clue. He couldn't imagine his life without the Omnitrix. And Azmuth must have known that Ben would want it back eventually anyway, because he let a twelve-year-old keep the most powerful device in the universe in an old shoebox at the back of his closet, instead of locking it up himself in his high-security, impenetrable research facility in the heart of one of the most heavily guarded planets in the galaxy.

As much as he knew that sunlight reflecting off of the oxygen in the atmosphere made the sky blue and that chlorophyll made plants appear green, Ben knew that Azmuth loved him. It was something as constant as gravity.

"I hope it doesn't take long to fix this." Ben sighed, waving his cased arm around. It wasn't as heavy as it looked, though it could be that he had gotten used to lugging an arm made of solid crystal. "I want to use my hand again. Plus, it really messes with my transformations. I don't want to turn into Goop or Upgrade and have my hand fall off."

Kevin gave him a sympathetic look. "Yeah, I get it. Just try not to think about it so much. Focus on parts of yourself that you like. So, take your hand—" he held up his right hand for emphasis, "—and grab the sheets or a wall or your shirt and focus on how that feels. If you think about what you're feeling and really focus on that sensation instead of the discomfort, it gets a lot easier to ignore." He paused. "Not that I would… know, or anything. That's just something I've heard from, uh… friends."

Again, Gwen laughed, but her expression was soft when she stood up and set a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Speaking of friends, do you think you could go talk to some of them for a while? I want to talk to Ben." She shot him a glance. "Alone."

As soon as she said it, Ben felt something heavy sink in his gut. He had a sick feeling that he knew exactly what she wanted to talk about and he couldn't say that he was looking forward to it. Still, Ben didn't protest. He could put it off, but Gwen wouldn't forget it. She would find a way to get him alone eventually and prolonging the inevitable was the last thing that he wanted at the moment.

Face creased in uncertainty, Kevin looked between the two of them for a long moment. It was only when Ben gave a hesitant smile and a nod that Kevin relaxed. "Alright," he agreed, reaching up to take Gwen's hand. "I'll give you guys an hour. After that, I'm coming in here whether you want me to or not." He tugged Gwen closer, setting his other hand on her hip to kiss her gently. He broke off after a moment and ruffled Ben's hair as he walked by. "You really do need to cut it," Kevin remarked. He waved his hand in front of the door scanner and ducked out of sight and down the hall.

Alone with Gwen, awkwardness caused Ben's smile to fall. He looked away from her, pulling one leg up to his chest. He knew what she was going to say but that didn't make it any easier to hear. He glanced over at Gwen, still standing in front of the bed, and arched an eyebrow. "Is that my jacket?"

It was. For some reason, Gwen had his old letterman jacket tied around her waist, the sleeves double-knotted and creased like they had been tied for a long time.

"Oh. Yeah." Gwen turned red with embarrassment. "I grabbed it from your room before Kevin and I left Earth. I thought that it would help track you. And it did, but then I just started hanging onto it. It's… comforting…" She fiddled with the sleeve for a moment, then glanced at Ben and untied it from her waist. It was draped over his shoulders as she sat down next to him on the bed. "We had a lot of good memories with that jacket," Gwen whispered. They weren't looking at each other.

Without thinking about it, Ben shrugged his jacket on. "Yeah. We did." He managed a smile. "For a while there, I almost thought those good times would never end."

There was a long moment where Gwen said nothing. Then, turning to him, "We had a lot of bad memories too, though. You especially, if what I saw in your head is all true." It wasn't a question. She didn't need to ask.

Even though he knew that it was coming, Ben flinched. "Do we have to talk about it?"

He felt more than saw Gwen scowl. "Yes," she said, impatient but not unkind. "Did you really think I was going to let something like that go?"

"No, but I hoped," Ben joked tentatively. He risked glancing at Gwen and her scowl spoke volumes. He narrowed his eyes in response, then faltered. "I really don't get why you're so upset about this. It's not like it's a big deal. Everyone's got problems, Gwen."

For a second, Ben was convinced that Gwen was going to strangle him. She looked like she was considering it for a moment, then she let out a long sigh and looked away. Something twinged in Ben's gut, like he had made a mistake of some sort. She smoothed her hands over her thighs exactly three times, then cleared her throat. "I… never knew you felt like that. When we were younger." A pause. "Felt like I was… better than you in every way, I mean. I never thought it bothered you that our parents considered me "smarter," as if GPA is an accurate indicator of intelligence."

Ben shook his head. "It didn't. I mean, it didn't bother me, it was just…" His smile fell and he slumped forward. "It bothered my parents really bad," he admitted. "Aunt Natalie used to love bragging about you, all the time, wherever we saw her, whenever she could. Mom and dad are too supportive for their own good sometimes, you know that, but I think it really got under their skin to have that constantly rubbed into their faces. I mean, you were so smart and mature and… and I had my thing with Little League, when we were ten, but you were already learning jiu-jitsu and when I took up soccer you were better at that, too, and—" He bit his tongue to stop himself. Gwen was looking at him oddly so, with a roll of his eyes, Ben huffed in irritation and continued. "Okay, fine, so maybe it bothered me a little bit. But only before I got the Omnitrix. Sure, you didn't change much, and you were still better than me at those things, but I was a hero." The ghost of a smile came to his face and Ben touched his lips with his good hand. It felt good to smile. "It sort of became my thing. You could have your grades and magic and martial arts. I never cared much about that stuff anyway. I felt like I'd finally accomplished something. At least, something that you couldn't repeat. Something that would make my parents proud to boast about. Something…" He hesitated, searching for the right words, and carefully said, "Something that I could be proud of."

"I'm sorry," Gwen suddenly said, startling him. "Back then, I wasn't much better than my mom. I was always rubbing it in your face. And… And I knew that you got bullied in school, too, but I never…" Her face twisted into a grimace. "God, it's humiliating, looking back at who I used to be, Ben. I was always so awful to you and so sure that I couldn't ever be in the wrong."

Despite himself, Ben laughed. He nudged Gwen with his shoulder playfully. "I remember being kind of an ass when I was ten, too. It's okay, Gwen. We were kids. What, did you think I was still holding a grudge over the time you dumped sunscreen on my head?"

Gwen giggled into her hand. "No, but that doesn't mean I can't regret it, anyway." She nudged him back, laying her head on his shoulder. The smile fell from her face and she sobered. "And just because you were ten doesn't mean you don't still have memories from back then that hurt. Time's passed, Ben, but that doesn't mean you've moved on from those things." She glanced up at him. "If you want to talk, ever, about anything, you know I'll listen."

It would have been easy to not answer her. Ben glanced at the door and considered getting up and walking out. He could. Something told him that Gwen wouldn't force him to stay. And yet… He sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. When he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, Gwen backed up to give him space. "I just don't feel like it's worth talking about," Ben muttered, so soft that it was barely audible. "It feels like I'm making a bigger deal out of things than they are. Like I'm being over-dramatic. You and Kevin and Rook… You've been through a lot of stuff, too. And I… I don't… think that I... deserve it. Deserve this, I mean. What you're doing right now."

The room was silent for a long minute. Ben felt his heart racing and his palms grow sweaty. What if Gwen hated him for saying that? Even just describing his mental block — not even any of his actual problems — Ben felt pathetic. Like he'd said too much. He had always feared that anyone he opened up to would brush it off, or laugh at him, or use it against him, but Gwen… She wouldn't. Would she? They weren't ten anymore. And even as kids, she'd always been there when it really counted. Ben could trust her.

He hoped, anyway.

"Ben." Finally, Gwen spoke. The sound of his name made him wince, but all she did was set a hand on his back and rub soft circles between his shoulder blades. "If something traumatic happened to me, you would want me to talk about it, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," he said automatically. "I mean, not to me specifically, unless you wanted to. Just… someone. Like, Kevin, maybe."

He chanced a look at her and saw Gwen nod. "Right," she agreed, staring blankly at some point in the distance. "So, tell me this, then. If you want that for me, why wouldn't you hold yourself to the same standard?" She turned to meet his eyes and Ben froze.

There was an explanation on the tip of his tongue but it came out as a breath of air and fell flat. His jaw opened and closed a few times until Ben eventually had to admit defeat. He looked up at the ceiling, fisting his functional hand in his jacket, and sighed, "I don't know. It sounds kind of ridiculous when you say it like that."

"It is ridiculous, Ben! Thank you for finally noticing." Gwen smacked his arm just hard enough to sting. "Listen, you don't have to talk to me. But when we get back to Earth, I want you to ask Grandpa Max about getting you to start seeing a therapist. There are plenty of them employed by the Plumbers that you can talk to. I won't do it for you. Otherwise, that defeats the point. You have to agree to do it on your own."

The idea of a therapist made something in Ben's head shriek in protest. "But, Gwen—"

"No buts!" She flicked him on the nose and, begrudgingly, Ben quieted. The sight of his glare made her soften, though. "Listen… It's pretty obvious to me that you don't know the first thing about self-care, Ben. So here's where we start. Treat yourself like you're me. Do what you would want me to do if I was in your situation. Or anyone else you care about." Gwen set both hands on his shoulders, giving a fond squeeze. "If you don't love yourself, you can at least treat yourself like someone that you do love. Alright?"

Silence. Ben frowned, searching Gwen's face for… what, he wasn't sure, but he knew when he found it. It was there in her eyes, just a few shades darker than his. The way she looked at him, it was almost like…

Ben nodded. "Alright."

For a moment, Gwen was too taken aback to reply. She must not have expected it to be that easy. But then she smiled and it made all of the uncertainties buzzing in his head fade to background noise. "Thank you," was all she said.

Gwen's arms slipped around his shoulders and Ben hugged her back on impulse. She didn't react to the feeling of his metal-encased arm other than to hug him even tighter.

"Back when Kevin went crazy, at the Forge of Creation," Ben whispered, "I never wanted to kill him. I kept putting it off. I kept making excuses. I kept hesitating. I know I talked big and I even fought you over it, which I'm sorry about, but… even when I had him unconscious at my feet… If you hadn't stopped me, I wouldn't have been able to do it. And I've always regretted getting that close at all. If I had managed to do it… I'd never have been able to forgive myself."

There was a soft hum from Gwen — noncommittal and merely acknowledging him. "What else, Ben? You can keep going."

He exhaled against Gwen's hair and, in a low murmur, began to talk. An hour passed and Kevin hadn't come back yet. For as long as they went uninterrupted, Ben and Gwen talked, gripping each other, hunched figures whispering to an empty room as though sharing a secret. It was a moment only meant for them and the things they would never repeat.

PART FOUR

Technically, Ben knew that he ought to talk to Rook. Things with Gwen were cleared, everything with Kevin was blissfully easy, but Rook…

Ben really didn't want to, was the main problem. It wasn't that he was angry with Rook still, or even that he didn't have an interest in being friends anymore, because he did. It was mostly that Ben was exhausted — all the time, both mentally and physically — and having a heart-felt conversation with Rook wasn't peeking his list of "Activities That Don't Induce More Stress." There was a lot to say to Rook and Ben didn't know how to articulate most of it.

The biggest hang up, Ben thought, was that he did still want to be Rook's friend. Maybe for the first time, depending on how much he lied about before. But, mostly, Ben knew that he didn't want to be Rook's partner.

After everything, it felt like taking a step back. He had been through so much since arriving on Petropia and to go back to Earth, into normal patrols with Rook, like nothing had changed… It felt like a lie.

Alone, looking down at his hands (one flesh-and-blood, the other still locked behind that metal cast), Ben couldn't reconcile the person that he saw in the mirror with the person who'd been talking to Rook so animately about his adventures with Tetrax during the ride to Petropia, barely even a month ago. That was someone else. Ben wasn't sure who he was anymore or what he was supposed to do. He couldn't pretend that everything was the same after all that had happened.

He knew what he wanted, at least mostly. The problem was saying that to Rook.

It was easy enough to avoid running into Rook while on the ship, mostly because it was constantly changing, both to accommodate the size of its newest passengers and to change the functions of rooms. And also because they were only there for a few hours and most of that time was spent in the privacy of Gwen's room. Once the mothership landed, the task of staying as far away from Rook as possible became a lot harder.

That was because, firstly, a lot of Azmuth's main research building wasn't designed for humans to be able to fit. Most of the hallways were and so was the central hub, but other than that, only about a tenth of the sprawling building was accessible for someone human-sized. And Azmuth had already denied letting Ben use the Omnitrix until his arm was fixed, at the risk of accelerating or worsening the preexisting genetic damage, so Ben couldn't even use Grey Matter to blend in.

Another roadblock to Ben's goal was the fact that, technically speaking, he was on bed rest. The Galvan doctors had recommended as much after his surgery — partly because he'd just gotten high-tech stitches and partly because they apparently didn't need a medical evaluation to decide that he was "mentally exhausted" — and Azmuth had agreed. So Ben wasn't supposed to be out of his room or even on his feet at all.

Staying in his room was just asking for Rook to visit him, though, so Ben made something of a game out of it. The goal was to see how long he could be out of his room before a Galvan spotted him and politely escorted him back to bed. His fastest failure was, literally, with only one foot out the door and his longest was from lunch to dinner, when whoever had delivered his meal saw that Ben was missing and notified Azmuth, who tracked him down through the Omnitrix. In Ben's opinion, that was cheating, but it didn't stop Azmuth from looking smug about it. At least the Galvans were good sports about it, even if they continued to insist on rarely talking to him. All of that was within the first two days of being on Galvan Prime.

Personally, Ben hated it. He was bored most of the time. The view from so high up was nice, but the sky was green and often overcast and the grass was synthetic. The sun, when it was out, was an unimpressive white dwarf that gave off barely enough heat for life on the planet to be sustainable. Planet-wide climate control had been implemented a millennium ago. It was fine, but it wasn't Earth.

He didn't see much of Grandpa Max which, Ben supposed, was partly his fault. He was slipping out of his room most of the day and, with as much paperwork as Grandpa found himself doing for the situation report that the Plumbers were demanding, he didn't have enough time to hunt Ben down. Gwen and Kevin were around more frequently, though. Even surrounded by technology, Gwen always seemed to know where he was. She wouldn't force Ben to go back to bed, though her nagging that he should be taking care of himself was non-stop and, much as Ben complained about it, very sweet. Kevin was the opposite. On a few occasions, he had even given Ben tips for looking around corners without being spotted and showed him some hiding places. And in the end, Ben didn't see Rook at all, which had been the goal.

During his third day on Galvan Prime, Ben snuck out of his room and left his weird, alien breakfast untouched. The food went from tolerable to atrocious with seemingly no real pattern. The food on Galvan Prime was hard to define. Instead of playing Russian roulette with his stomach, Ben decided to try sneaking a peek at an area of the building he'd yet to visit. It was a long walk from his room, but it wasn't like Ben had anything better to do.

He followed the mostly-empty hallways in circles. Navigating any Galvan building left anyone unfamiliar with the layout disoriented and confused, which to Ben, was part of the fun. He didn't really think about the branching hallways to nowhere and the stairs that doubled back on themselves. He kept walking, ducking out of sight when he heard talking or the approaching hum of a hoverpad, and tried his best not to think too much about where he was going. Since Ben had no destination in mind, it didn't matter if he got lost.

From what he could tell, the building was split into sections, with each one being devoted to a different brand of science. Ben couldn't describe them, since everything was written in Galvan, but he saw scientists in different colored lab coats, certain people sticking to certain areas, live animals in some and the smell of burning ozone in another, and was able to work some of it out.

He found himself in a hallway with one wall that was entirely a green-tinted window. It followed the curve of the building. Ben had gathered that each floor had four of them, since the building was set-up in a square grid layout, and they served sort of as scenic bridges to the next specialty science area. That, and different miscellaneous rooms branched off of them. Ben had once opened a tiny door to find Galvan-sized exercise equipment. It was as adorable as it sounded.

The windowed area was just like all the other ones, but Ben knew that he hadn't been in that one, specifically, before. It seemed older, somehow, though he knew that the building itself had only been built a couple of years ago after the Highbreed armada destroyed the original Galvan Prime. The architecture felt different, though Ben didn't know enough about it to explain how. Everything close to Azmuth was sleek and modern, minimalistic and functional to a fault, but the further away Ben got from the main hub, the more stylistic it seemed. Maybe it was to reflect the sciences that this part of the building housed or maybe it was the building constructors doing what they wanted. Ben didn't know. He didn't care enough to ask about it.

It wasn't that remarkable of a hallway, and Ben would have moved on perfectly fine without stopping to look around, but he paused. He could have sworn that he felt a gust of wind. The idea of there being a draft in Azmuth's perfect building made him snort, but Ben looked around anyway.

He followed the feeling of fresh air — well, as fresh as it could be when Azmuth proudly announced that the entire planet's atmosphere was managed and monitored constantly to always be scientifically perfect — and wandered over to the end of the hall, where the glass met the wall. He prodded it with his fingers and found that it shifted. Surprised, Ben pushed a little harder, and had to catch the edge of the glass as it started to slip out of the frame. So high off the ground, the wind was whipping his hair into his face hard enough to sting, but Ben took a deep breath and stopped caring.

Carefully, Ben shifted the glass further out of the way and glanced down. There was a ledge just outside the window, curling around the perimeter of the building. He bit his lip, struggling with what to do for all of three seconds before stepping one foot outside. Getting away from Rook and the constant guards and sterile room after sterile room sounded heavenly to Ben, even if he was risking a drop that would easily kill him.

With both feet on the ledge, Ben twisted around to awkwardly push the glass back into place. It wasn't very easy with his left arm the way it was, but whoever had cut it had done a very clean job. It slotted into place smoothly and Ben quickly inched out of sight of the window with his back pressed against the wall. The ledge itself had enough room for his feet to fit comfortably, but not much otherwise. Many might try to argue that being hundreds of feet off the ground was the opposite of relaxing, but Ben would have to respectfully disagree. He was, as a matter of fact, very relaxed. More relaxed than he had been inside his stuffy room, anyway.

The wind whipped his hair into his eyes and caught on his clothes. A particularly strong gust made his shirt snap like a flag. He curled his fingers into the grooves of the wall and found a pace of moving along the building that made it easier to enjoy the view and not notice so much where he was going.

It was kind of funny, Ben thought. He had created the universe twice and he still felt small when he looked down on a city from above. Just a few days ago, he had been a star, but there was something about the neat rows of tiny houses and the distant buzzing of bustling people that made him feel so insignificant. In a way, it was nice. Ben didn't like feeling larger-than-life and all-powerful. It was sort of humbling to look out on people living their lives and let himself be overwhelmed by it all.

He kept moving and was surprised when he came upon a wider part of the ledge. It was big enough that he could lay comfortably on it. He stumbled into the wider support and was even more surprised to see someone else already sitting there.

"Patience?" Ben blinked but even after doing a double take, she was still there. It was hard to misidentify an emerald-colored crystalline person. "I… What are you doing here?" He gestured around them. "I mean, on this planet still, and also out the window on a random ledge. Did you cut the window?"

The other Petrosapiens — Mantle, Conway, and Tetrax — had all gone back to Petropia as soon as they landed on Galvan Prime and Azmuth had been able to scrounge up some spare ships big enough for them to fly. Since then, Ben hadn't seen or heard even a mention of Patience. He had no idea why she was sticking around. It couldn't be to just loiter on Azmuth's property. Actually, did he even know that he had another guest?

Glancing up at him, Patience scowled and refocused on the view out in front of her. "I don't have to tell you anything, Tennyson," she said dismissively. "What are you here for? Having a disabled arm wasn't enough so you wanted to add the rest of your body to the list?"

Ben huffed. He scowled at her for a moment, before slumping and sitting down at the edge, where she was. He made sure to put a good few feet of distance between them. While it wasn't very wide, the ledge was long enough to allow for that. He let his feet hang over and sighed. "I'm avoiding Rook," he admitted. "It's just been… hard to be around him ever since you forced him to tell me the truth about our partnership." He noticed Patience's expression tighten at the mention of what happened. Did she regret it at all? "I thought I forgave him for it, but… I don't know, it's like he hasn't really learned from it. He feels sorry, sure, but I don't think he's really changed… At least, not in the ways that matter." He looked down beneath them, at the city carved into the artificial landscape. Was any of it real? Did it mean anything if it wasn't? "Sorry. That probably doesn't make sense."

"Not in the slightest." Patience snorted. She sat back on her palms, giving Ben a side glance. Some of the hostility on her face melted away. It didn't feel real to begin with — like she'd put on a mask when she saw Ben coming and was only barely hanging onto it. "Why don't you just go tell him that? If you're out here, then it's because you're restless, and if you're restless, you clearly aren't happy."

Indignant, Ben almost called her a hypocrite for lecturing him about happiness, but he bit his tongue. It felt out of line and, anyway, he didn't want to start a fight. He sighed instead. "You say that like talking to people is easy."

Patience shook her head. "I never said it was going to be easy. Happiness is almost never easy. But Rook is your friend and you obviously miss him, so…" She gestured in front of them, at the heart-pounding drop, Ben was pretty sure. "Why are you wasting your time out here when he's in there?"

There wasn't a good way to answer that, so Ben stayed silent. He thought about how uncomfortable it would be talking to Rook, how a part of him was still furious, how difficult it was going to be to forgive and forget and move on… But then he thought of fighting alongside each other, going on for smoothies, the way he'd felt when his initial dislike of having a partner turned into relief and then enjoyment and then…

He let out a long, slow sigh. Gingerly, Ben picked himself up, and moved back along the ledge in the direction that he came from. He didn't say a word to Patience and he didn't look back. As far as he knew, neither did she.

Her pep talks were awful, but she did have a point. Ben kept putting it off because he knew it wasn't going to be easy or fun, but that was a selfish and short-term way of looking at the situation. He knew that Rook was ready and willing to talk, if the way that Ben sometimes spotted him loitering around his room meant anything, so he was only making the anxiety and stress worse for both of them by continuing to ignore the crux of the issue.

Not that recognizing that made Ben all that eager to do anything about it.

He walked back to his room slowly, lost in thought, only able to remember the way back because he wasn't thinking about it. His feet knew where to go and, somehow, Ben got all the way there without being caught. Or maybe those who had seen him knew where he was going and saw it fit to leave him alone.

Ben wasn't all that surprised to round the corner to the stretch of guest bedrooms where he was staying and see Rook standing there, right outside of his door. He was leaning against the wall, polishing the Proto-Tool with a blank look on his face. It was only for show. After a year of working together, Ben knew when Rook was doing repetitive motions with intent and when he was only trying to look busy while his thoughts wandered. The thought made his throat tight. No matter what else, at least Rook hadn't lied about everything. He was still Rook. Still Ben's best friend.

He couldn't think of anything to say, so he just approached and let his footsteps speak for him. Even then, it took until Ben was nearly in arms' reach for Rook to look up and realize that he was there. For a moment, they stared blankly at each other, as if Rook couldn't process what he was looking at. He tore his gaze away from Ben, took a deep breath, and forced a smile that came out more as a grimace.

"Hey, Rook." Ben shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He really needed to get his hands on some different clothes. None of Kevin's pants were small enough for him and he was apparently too cool to own a belt. "It's, uh… been a while. I…" He swallowed the urge to force small talk and, grimacing, said, "I think we have some stuff we need to talk about."

The smile on Rook's face fell, but he nodded. "Yes. I was hoping to bring that up with you. I am… Ben, before you say anything, I am—"

"If you say you're sorry," Ben warned, "I can and will walk away."

Immediately, Rook snapped his mouth shut. He struggled for a moment, then sighed in defeat. "Very well." He ran a hand over his head, glancing at the door to Ben's room. "Would it be more appropriate to have this conversation in a private place?"

That was probably a good idea. Ben nodded, then stepped around Rook and gestured for him to follow. "Sure. But I don't want to talk in my room. Let's… find somewhere else."

Honestly, a part of it was still Ben trying to delay things, but more than that, he just didn't want to talk in the place where he slept. It felt like a violation somehow, to invite his turmoil with Rook into the one area where Ben was supposed to be able to relax. He really didn't care were they talked, as long as it was just the two of them and somewhere that Ben wouldn't have to visit again.

They walked in silence, Rook one step behind as Ben led the way. It might have been awkward, but Ben was sick of being anxious and uncomfortable. Frankly, he just didn't have the energy for it. He shoved his hands into his pockets, kept his eyes glued in front of him, and walked. He didn't actually know where they were going, but thankfully, there was something for them to use. Ben was vaguely familiar with all of the rooms that were in the same area as his room, since those were the ones that he ended up in most often. A lot of them weren't in use, so Ben picked one at random, waved his hand in front of the access panel to open the door, and gestured for Rook to step inside.

It was completely empty, which was to be expected. Ben said nothing about it. Every room had perpetual light from the walls, hovering around a bizarre brightness level that made it both easy to see and easy to sleep. The door closed behind them and Ben walked over to the control panel inside of the room itself. He tapped with his good hand, increasing the brightness and sending for two human-sized chairs. The floor split apart to deliver them, done in the matter of a few seconds.

Still avoiding looking at Rook, Ben grabbed the chair closest to him and twisted it around so that he could sit backwards in it. He wasn't normally a fan of that position, but forcing some level of casualness into the situation was the only way he could convince himself not to run. He took a deep breath. "So… you wanted to talk?"

Frowning, Rook nonetheless sat correctly in the other seat across from Ben and, after a moment, nodded. "Yes," he said slowly, "though now that you have asked me not to apologize, I am unsure where I should start."

Ben fell silent, staring at the floor thoughtfully. He wasn't sure where to start, either. There seemed to be so much to say but he had no idea how. He sighed heavily. "I guess… for starters, Kevin said you got back to working with the Plumbers, right?"

For some reason, Rook didn't seem too happy about that. He grimaced. "Yes. Magister Tennyson was able to pull some strings, though I've obviously lost my promotion to magister. I'll be starting from the bottom to work my way up the ranks again." There was an unasked question on his face. Thankfully, it was one that Ben already knew the answer to.

His expression softened. "Rook, I'm happy for you, but I meant what I said. We're not partners anymore, now or ever," Ben said gently.

Actually, now that Ben was thinking about it, he didn't think that he wanted another partner at all. A part of him felt like it had been rubbed raw and, after everything, Ben sort of wanted some time on his own for a while. Some time to figure things out, like what he wanted with his future and how he wanted to monitor the universe. Clearly, staying on Earth wasn't doing other planets a whole lot of good.

Mostly, Ben thought, it was that the idea of being anchored down — by a partner, by a home, by friends and family — terrified him.

"I assumed that you would say as much," Rook said. There was a flash of disappointment in his eyes, gone as soon as it was there. "It is not my place to tell you what you can and cannot do with your life. I hope that your next partner can serve you better than I did."

And the worst part, really, was how genuine Rook sounded. Ben stared at him long and hard for several seconds but, even replaying that last sentence in his head several times, Ben couldn't sense any entitlement or jealousy or bitterness. Rook was just happy for him. That alone was almost enough to break Ben's resolve. It was going to be so lonely on Earth without Rook breathing down his neck.

Despite the sweet sentiment, Ben shook his head. "I don't think I want another partner," he admitted. "Grandpa Max can't force me to have one. Had I really wanted you gone the day we first met, it would have been incredibly easy to pick an alien that can fly and be gone before you could even introduce yourself."

Rook ignored the second part of that statement, which was about what Ben had expected from him. "You don't want another partner?" He asked. When Ben's only response was to shake his head, Rook slumped in his seat. "Oh," was all he said, softly.

Their conversation dropped into silence, but not for very long. Ben had worked up the courage to get this far and he needed their conversation to be done and over with.

"Are you happy?" Ben asked. Seeing the confused look on Rook's face, he clarified, "With the Plumbers, I mean. You were pretty upset when you had to crush your badge, but you don't seem all that happy to have it back."

The fact that Rook couldn't immediately answer spoke volumes. He sighed and looked away, glancing up at the blank, featureless ceiling. "I do not know," he said carefully. "I ought to be happier than I am, I think. I have been pardoned of high treason and desertion. That should be the best possible outcome. But I think that I…" An odd expression came over Rook's face and he fixed Ben with a hard frown. "I do not feel like much of a Plumber anymore."

Taken aback, all Ben did was arch an eyebrow. He found his voice after a few moments and the only question he could settle on was, "What do you feel like, then?"

He unclipped his Plumber badge from his utility belt and, hands shaking, Rook held it up to look at. His fingers tightened as though he wanted to crush it, but he went no further. "I feel like a hero," Rook whispered to his badge.

Ben didn't respond. He wasn't sure what to say. Sometimes, he felt like a hero, too. Other times he didn't. There, sitting in an empty room with his ex-partner looking on the verge of crushing that Plumber badge and bursting into tears, Ben didn't feel like a hero. He felt as though something heavy had been placed in his chest. It felt as though all of the misery was his fault. He didn't know what made a hero, but Ben wasn't sure if what he had done back on the satellite qualified. He had saved the day, but he'd let people die. He had disfigured a man. He had let himself get careless and was captured. If Ben had done it better, done it faster, done it sooner, then maybe…

He chuckled softly to himself. "I guess that makes one of us," Ben muttered. He saw Rook lift his head to stare at him out of the corner of his eye, but Ben was more interested in staring at the floor. "I keep thinking about all of these "what if"s… I don't even know why. I could probably rewind time, with Clockwork or Alien X, but I don't know what it would accomplish. It feels like… everything that was meant to happen, did happen." Ben gestured between them. "Including… well, us, I guess."

Slowly, Rook nodded. When Ben looked up at him, he wasn't smiling, but he'd put his badge away and seemed to be relaxed again. "I know what you mean," he said. "As much as I would like to pretend that we could have been partners forever… I want to be Magistratus one day and you cannot stay on Earth your entire life. Not with the Omnitrix on your wrist. I just…" Rook closed his eyes and spoke slowly, as though every word took a physical effort to get out, "I understand why we cannot be partners. I only wish that this change had happened under more ideal circumstances."

That time, the smile that Ben managed was genuine. It didn't last long though. "Yeah, me too," he agreed. "I forgive you for it, Rook. I hate being mad at you. But I don't think I can forget it and it's going to take a while for me to trust you the same way again."

It was a lie. As if Ben wouldn't forgive Rook for anything he had or would ever do. As if he wouldn't give out chance after chance after chance until the day he died. But that was alright, Ben thought. He didn't mind giving out second, third, fourth, or even a hundredth chance. As long as the people he gave them to kept earning them. And Rook deserved that much, at least.

Rook inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I would not expect anything else. I will not lie to you again, Ben," he promised. "For what it is worth coming from me, I do not think that anyone was more heroic than you during this whole ordeal." The tone of his voice was sincere, almost raw, and that was what kept Ben from protesting. His mouth opened but nothing came out and, not noticing, Rook continued before Ben could get his bearings back. "How is your arm? Azmuth mentioned that he will have to do some repairs on the Omnitrix once the worst of the genetic damage has been reversed. Whatever Murowa did to it scorched a lot of the wiring."

The arch of his eyebrow gave away the statement for the question that it was. Ben's expression tightened. It was an invitation to talk about what had happened. He'd given a vague play-by-play to Azmuth and Grandpa Max, letting them trickle down information to his friends, but no part of Ben wanted to talk about it in detail.

Maybe that therapist Gwen was so insistent on would be able to wheedle it out of him.

Ben ran his working fingers over his metallic cast absent-mindedly, pointedly looking away from Rook as he avoided the question. "It's not really as bad as you're making it out to be. Sure, the Omnitrix got banged up, but what else is new? Plus, like this, my wrist actually doesn't hurt as much anymore, even though I think I broke something while I was transforming. Mom took me to the doctor once to get me checked out and they said that I might have developed carpal tunnel syndrome, so this is—" He paused, swallowing hard as he glanced over at Rook. Something on his ex-partner's face looked so profoundly sad that Ben couldn't find it in himself to finish. "... It doesn't bother me, is all," he whispered instead. "Seriously, Rook. Don't look at me like that. Please don't tell me that you can really blame yourself for this."

Though Rook said nothing, the silence between them spoke volumes.

"I want to fix things between us." Ben stood up, pacing in front of his chair so that he didn't have to look at Rook. "I hate how awkward this is. I want to be your friend, Rook, but I… I don't know if I can," he admitted.

Maybe it was the statement or maybe it was because Ben was standing, but whatever the reason, Rook got to his feet too. He set his hands on Ben's shoulders to keep him from pacing, fixing him with a hard stare. "That is… alright," he said finally, taking Ben by surprise. "It is understandable for you to still have reservations. I would not expect everything to be back to normal after one conversation, Ben. And, if you are willing to work at it, then I am, too," he promised. "I hurt you and there is no way for me to express the intensity of my regret. Ben, you are one of the most important people in my life. You are the best friend I have ever had. And I…" Rook hesitated. Ben knew already what he was thinking but, up until the words actually left Rook's mouth, neither of them were sure if he would actually say it. "I love you."

Despite everything — the anger and regret and doubt still fogging up his head — Ben grinned. "I love you, too," he replied. With that, there were no second thoughts. No matter what else, they had been through too much for Ben to not love Rook. "You're like a brother to me."

"I hope that means that we can be friends, too." Rook stuck his hand out, a hesitant smile tugging at his lips. His expression was tight beneath his fur, pulling Ben's aching chest in a way that told him he was missing something.

But he was too relieved to have his best friend back to pay much attention to it. Ben's grin only widened and he knocked Rook's extended palm with an enthusiastic fist bump. "Like you even need to ask," he teased.

Maybe — just maybe — Rook's smile looked a bit more genuine after that.

PART FIVE

There were rough plans being made for when they would all leave Galvan Prime and head back to Earth. Everyone had agreed that they weren't going back until Ben was given the okay from Azmuth to leave too, which was incredibly touching. Since things with Rook had been more or less cleared up, Ben had stopped sneaking around so much and often passed the time in his room, in bed on apparently everyone's insistence, talking to his friends to stave off the restlessness and boredom. And with Grandpa Max finally finishing up the most complex parts of the incident report, he could afford to hang around often, too.

It was content in a way that Ben hadn't been for a long, long time. There was still the metal cast around his arm, still the anxiousness of not feeling like it was over, still the nightmares filled with nothing but blurry faces and the sense of failure, but Ben was relaxed, almost. He was doing better, he thought.

They got an invitation to Popigai's funeral after six days on Galvan Prime. It was going to be held in a week on Petropia. They didn't call it a funeral, though. It was a "celebration," loosely translated. Rook tried to explain the culture differences in how Petrosapiens viewed deaths, especially for warriors like Popigai had been, but the thought made Ben sick. He couldn't imagine having to sit there for hours while people laughed and cheered and celebrated. How could they be happy when he was gone? When it was all Ben's fault?

A lot of the time that Ben visited the little ledge outside of the discreetly broken window, he was alone. He thought that maybe Patience had stopped going there, wanting to have a place to herself, or maybe they just had different schedules. He didn't know and he didn't really care, either. The part of Ben that was concerned about her after everything that happened was small. Being worried about Patience felt like doing her a disservice, almost. To him, she always seemed to have everything under control, including her mental state. Then again, Ben probably seemed like that to outsiders, too.

He hadn't been planning on revisiting that ledge at all, but it had become a place to be alone when he needed to clear his thoughts. The Omnitrix was still pretty much useless, so Ben couldn't be called through it, and his phone obviously wasn't getting service from seventy-two-thousand lightyears away from the nearest Earth satellite provider.

He got to call his parents a few times, when Azmuth or Grandpa Max had enough free time to show him how to set up the ridiculously complicated Galvan technology and no one else wanted his attention, but that was his only contact with Earth. His dad had already started talking about going camping and fishing when Ben got back and the thought was so perfect to him that he'd nearly started crying. Then his mom had started talking about how bright the stars were out there and rattling off constellations and he had missed them so much that his chest ached. Every time they hung up, Ben's face ached from smiling. He had never had that problem before, but it had been a while since he'd been so happy.

Still, there were things that Ben wouldn't or couldn't talk about. Not with his friends, not with his family, not even strangers. Sometimes that felt like it was easier, to tell someone who was completely removed from the situation, but the thought made Ben want to lock himself in his room and never come out. At least going out to the ledge got him some sun and fresh air. It wasn't Earth, but it made him feel healthier. The wind woke him up and he was hoping that, eventually, the idea of a drop from so high up would terrify him like it used to.

It was only a matter of time until Patience eventually showed up at the same time Ben was there, cliche though it sounded. He heard her coming long before she saw him. It turned out that Petrosapiens made a lot of noise when they moved, what with them being made of crystal and all.

Instead of using the lip of the building's design to get around, Patience walked casually using peranite as a platform to set her feet. When she saw Ben, she faltered, but pursed her lips and took her place a good distance away from him on the ledge. The peranite disappeared behind her, shrinking back into the narrow slits in the outer wall that Ben hadn't noticed before. Hopefully Azmuth wouldn't be upset that someone had destroyed his building, though he doubted that Patience would care.

It was quiet between them for a while, which Ben was fine with. It sort of defeated the point of being alone if he was talking to someone and it didn't look like Patience was that eager to talk to him, either. They both sat back and admired the view in silence for what felt like a long, long time. It didn't last nearly long enough.

But, in all fairness, Ben was the one to break it. Kicking his legs idly, he turned to look at Patience and said, "So, why didn't you do it?"

He'd managed to catch her off-guard so, instead of annoyed, Patience merely looked confused. She arched an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"You know." Ben waved vaguely at nothing. "You had Argyle right there, unconscious on the floor. Why didn't you kill him?" He kept his voice purposefully blank. It didn't really matter. Either way, Argyle was dead. He had killed himself. It was a non-issue, a closed case. But it was a question that Ben had been thinking about and, no matter how he looked over the situation, he couldn't come up with a reason for Patience's behavior. He was curious. Maybe thinking about someone else's problems would help him forget about his.

Of course, Patience didn't feel the same way. Which was understandable. It had been a fairly personal question. She shot him a sharp glare and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She worked her jaw a few times then, with a sigh, turned away.

He thought that she was going to leave or, at the very least, continue with the silent treatment. The last thing that Ben was expecting was for her to slump forward and admit, "I don't know. I thought that he might be… And that's my fault, for letting myself get caught up in the moment. He was…" She looked at Ben again, not angry, just lost, and maybe a little confused. "He was injured. And he was unconscious. And he…" She trailed off.

Ben wasn't that great at comforting people, but he took a shot at it anyway. "He looked innocent?" He guessed. "Like he was sleeping. Like maybe… he might be someone else."

Somehow, that got Patience to smile. "Exactly," she agreed. The smile fell. "Like someone else. I wish I hadn't hesitated. I shouldn't have. Whatever he looked like, that wasn't my brother. My brother has been dead for a while," she muttered. "Whoever it was that we fought, Ben, that wasn't him. Cacoxenite died a long, long time ago."

And, ridiculous though it sounded, Ben sort of understood. From the other side of things, anyway. Every time he looked in the mirror, he had to do a double take. It wasn't that he looked very different, after a shower and some bed rest and proper food. It was something in his eyes. Looking in the mirror, Ben wasn't sure who he was seeing. He didn't feel like himself and he didn't know how to fix it. Maybe it was time to be someone else.

He didn't say anything. Ben set a hand on Patience's, giving her a smile before taking his hand away and sitting back. They were both silent as the sun set. It was fine to not feel better, Ben thought. Sometimes, it was better to simply know that you had been understood.

Eventually, though, he did have to go back inside. Ben didn't want to be gone too long, or else Azmuth would be forced to come get him and probably pitch a big fit about Ben being out on the roof, especially with the ledge as narrow as it was and the Omnitrix disabled so he couldn't transform at the last second to save himself from hitting the ground. All else aside, Ben didn't want to lose the one place he could go to be truly alone. His room had a lock, but it was mostly for show, since anyone with a Plumber's badge could open it.

He got up and left without so much as a wave to Patience. She didn't even seem to notice that he had moved, anyway.

Thoughts of a funeral, or whatever Petrosapiens wanted to call it, had gotten Ben thinking. He didn't have Murowa's body. Grandpa Max had eventually taken it from him and it was placed in Plumber custody, either to be disposed of or to be delivered to whatever living relatives Murowa had. She hadn't legally been convicted of anything before dying, so Ben assumed that the latter would be more proper.

What if he did that, though? If he tracked down her parents and visited her grave and… But what would that accomplish? Closure? For what? Ben didn't need to know anything about Murowa. And any relatives she may or may not have probably wouldn't be happy to see him.

But he wanted to do something. Ben didn't tell anyone, because he was sure that they would find it ridiculous, but he wanted to do something like a funeral ceremony. Even if it was only symbolic in nature, without bodies, it felt wrong to let it go without doing anything. In a way, it was sort of Ben's fault that they were dead in the first place.

The next time he had Azmuth alone, during a check-up that involved actually taking his ridiculous metal cast off, Ben took a shot at it. Azmuth was completely focused on the Omnitrix. Ben couldn't even begin to guess what he was doing with it, but the peranite crystals had been shrinking and receding, so it had to be working somewhat. He could see the tips of his fingers again, though he still couldn't move them.

"Hey, do you think I could get some candles? Three or four of them?" Ben asked.

Azmuth glanced up at him, mildly confused before quickly deciding that he didn't care and turning back to his work. "Yes, if you can remain quiet for the rest of this procedure. Should I accidentally cross wires, this could spread to the rest of your body incredibly painfully with no way of stopping it. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to reverse radiation poisoning?"

No, Ben didn't, but the mild threat was enough to keep him quiet even as he smiled. At least he had gotten what he wanted.

He hadn't thought much about what Galvan candles were like, but they were about as plain as Ben had expected. Vanilla in color and completely unscented. They also didn't feel like they were made out of wax. They were a bit small for Ben to handle comfortably, but they were big by Galvan standards, so he shrugged it off and decided to just be grateful that Azmuth had remembered. He usually didn't pay attention when he was absorbed in work. Of course, Galvan lighters were too small for human hands, so he'd been left with a set of matches. They were adorable, actually. Still too small to be much good, but if Ben could light the candles quickly, he didn't need to worry about burning himself a little. He would take what he could get.

He dropped three of the five candles that Azmuth had delivered into his jacket pocket and waited for the next time that he was alone to sneak out. He ended up waiting a while. Since Kevin had figured out how Ben's protective cast came off, he had been very interested in removing it and examining Ben's arm. Gwen was against it, but since Kevin and Rook seemed interested, Ben tolerated it. As long as he wasn't expected to talk or explain himself, they could poke and prod as much as they liked.

Regardless, Ben was eventually left alone and that was when he slipped out of his room. The Galvans hanging around weren't as strict about his bedrest anymore, probably because Azmuth was finally making progress toward a solution for his arm, but Ben still didn't want to risk being caught. It took him longer than usual to get there but, eventually, he was standing in an empty corridor and pushing a sliver of glass out of the window to slip out of.

Following the edge of the building around to the familiar ledge, Ben found himself staring at the ground. He was still inching around the side of the building but he found himself wondering what it would be like to drop. Not to hit the ground, because he knew that he didn't want to be dead, but the fall itself. Usually, Ben felt exhilarated when he fell, because it was often during a fight and he usually had the Omnitrix ready to give him wings. Or, at the very least, a safer way to hit the ground. But if he didn't have that reassurance, what would it feel like? Would it be even more exciting? Would he regret it the moment his feet left the safety of the ledge, or further down, when the view of the sun on the horizon was replaced with the rapidly-approaching concrete?

As Ben took his usual spot, legs crossed instead of hanging over the edge, he found himself grimacing. Three candles were lined up in front of him. The wind was, luckily, calm that particular day. He wondered how someone could do it: how Murowa and Argyle could have done it, more aptly.

In a way, wasn't jumping in front of that peranite shard to save Ben the same thing as dropping off a building? Ben stared at the ground, impossibly far beneath him, lost in thought. The candles remained unlit. Murowa had to have known that she had a good chance of dying. She wasn't stupid. Even if she was in denial until the moment it was too late, she had known that it was a possibility. And she had done it anyway. Argyle hadn't even had that sliver of doubt. He threw himself out into the vacuum of space because it would kill him.

The scary part was that Ben could relate, even if only marginally. He had never willfully tried to die, like Argyle, but he had weighed his odds before, like Murowa. But, unlike her, sometimes Ben didn't expect to live. And he did it anyway, threw himself into the fight, into the sacrifice, without even a split-second consideration of what would happen after he had died. He had died before, a couple of times, but Ben had never thought about the permanence of it. Would they have had a funeral for him, too? There probably wouldn't have been much of a body left behind. He wondered if anyone would light a candle for him.

It was a silly thing to think, though. The candle didn't really mean anything, just that it was the only symbolic funeral rite that he thought Azmuth might have. Ben sighed. He didn't want to think about what had happened anymore. He wanted to move on. He was so tired.

Ben pulled the set of matches out of his jacket pocket, taking one and holding his hand up to block it against the wind as he struck it against the starter. He lit the first candle and flicked the match to put the flame out, setting it to the side. "This one's for Diavik," Ben muttered. "I didn't know you that well, but you seemed like a smart guy. Charismatic, too. It seemed like you had a good sense of humor, with the way you were always taking the piss out of Murowa and Argyle. And you weren't a sadist, which is nice. You were just… doing your job." He sucked in a hard breath. "...You probably could have been someone really incredible if you'd made better choices. If you hadn't been such a good friend, then maybe…"

His sentence trailed off and Ben shook the thought away. He was done with dwelling on the possible choices and the endless "what if"s.

Before Ben could light the next match, the sound of peranite crunching made him look up. Patience was rounding the corner, like he had half-expected her to. Unlike the other day, when she saw him she didn't pause. There was a flicker of hesitation, then her expression hardened and she took a seat to Ben's right. She glanced at the candles with a frown.

No question was asked, but Ben still felt the need to answer. "I'm holding a funeral service. Sort of." Ben bit his lip. "It's for Diavik and Murowa and Argyle. You probably think that's stupid, don't you?"

"Yes," Patience said without needing to think about it. She glanced from Ben to the candles, then turned to face the horizon. "But it doesn't really matter what I think. Funerals are selfish by design. They're not for whoever's died, not really. They're for the people that were left behind and feel entitled to mourn. So, mourn if you need to, Ben. These people genocided millions, but you don't need to feel guilty if you're not happy about someone dying." She shrugged. "I'm not all that happy about it either, if I'm being honest. I wouldn't say that I'm all that torn up about it, though. If this is what you feel you need to do, then do it. Moving on from all of this will make your life a thousand times better. Trust me." She scoffed. "Holding onto the past turns you into a withered-out husk of your former self. Don't be that person. Find your closure, even if no one else thinks it's worth trying."

Vaguely, Ben wondered if that was who he was seeing in the mirror: someone shrunken and tired and empty. Someone who had never found a way to move on or let go.

"I'm going to say some words for Murowa," he told Patience. "Don't laugh." He gave her a pointed glare with no real heat behind it and turned to the candles. She was right, it was so stupid to care about the deaths of such awful people… But feelings had never listened to logic and reason and Ben was okay with being stupid for a few minutes if it meant he could get on with his life.

Again, he lit the match, catching the flame on the second candle's wick. "Murowa." Ben sighed. "You know, if you had turned out a little different, we could have been friends. You sort of reminded me of Azmuth, how smart he is and how much he pretends to hate everyone. I never thought you would give up anything for me, let alone your own life. I figure it's probably only because you wanted me for your experiments, but I don't think that's worth dying over. I'd like to think that, at least toward the end there, you saw me as a person."

Ben was making himself get choked up. It wasn't that he missed them, not really. It was the loss of such great potential. The three of them had done terrible things on a massive scale. If their lives had turned out different, if they had been better people… They could have done anything, Ben thought. They could have changed the galaxy for the better. Could he have changed them? If he had made different choices, could he have ever changed their minds?

He would never know. They were all dead. That was something Ben would have to live with, something he would always think about.

He looked over at Patience. Miraculously, she hadn't laughed during his little speech. She hadn't even scoffed. She was looking at him with an expression that Ben couldn't place, mouth turned downward. It didn't seem like she was upset, though.

The little Galvan matches looked even smaller compared to Petrosapien hands but, after a moment's hesitation, Ben offered her a match anyway. "Do you want to say anything about… Cacoxenite?" He asked.

Patience's expression didn't change. Ben was half-convinced that she was going to refuse, only for her to sigh and take the match. He showed her how to light it and, with surprisingly nimble movements, she lit the last candle. The match was flicked over the side of the ledge and she watched it fall with vacant eyes. For a few moments, neither of them spoke.

"I think he would have liked this," Patience said finally, so softly that Ben barely heard her. "Cacoxenite was always so self-centered. He would have liked to think that he was remembered. Maybe even missed. He probably would have done something like this for Murowa, too. They had a…" She sighed. "Well, I don't want to explain Petrosapien relationships to you. It was complicated, but he cared about her. He cared about Diavik, too, ever since the Academy where they met. And I like to think..." Patience frowned. "I like to think that he cared about me, too. That maybe Cacoxenite was still in there, somewhere. Not that it matters now."

When it seemed like she was finished, Ben nodded. He cleared his throat and, to the candle, said, "Argyle… you were a real asshole." Surprised, Patience let out a snort of laughter, covering her mouth to muffle it. Ben grinned in return. "And this," he continued, "is for Popigai and everyone else they hurt." He knocked all of the candles off the ledge with a swipe of his arm, leaning over to watch them tumble through the air. By the time they hit the ground, they were specks too small for Ben to see. Insignificant, almost.

He sighed, content, and leaned back. It was weird, but Ben actually did feel lighter. Like he had lifted a weight from his chest and sent that over the edge, too.

"You're right," he said to Patience without looking at her. "Funerals are selfish."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Yes. Sometimes it's alright to be selfish, though."

Ben looked over at her. "Are you going to Popigai's funeral, then? I know you didn't know him, but… You could. If you wanted to." He almost said "It would be nice to see you there," but bit it back. Not because it wasn't true, but because he could tell she didn't want to hear it.

There was a moment where Patience paused, maybe even considering it, but she shook her head. "No. I think it's better that I don't. I need to get home, anyway."

The word "home" made Ben soften. Just a few more weeks and he could go, too. "For the record," he said after a minute of silence, "I hope we never see each other again."

Patience smiled. "That's what I'm counting on." She reached over, slinging an arm around Ben and pulling him against her in a loose hug. He returned the gesture, leaning into it, and Patience just as quickly pulled away. Without another word, she stood and, using her peranite platforms, left.

It felt too quiet without someone sharing the view with him, but Ben shoved the thought away. Alone, he laid back, legs dangling over the edge of the ledge. He squinted up at the darkening sky and brushed his bangs out of the way. Maybe he wouldn't cut it, after all. Sometimes, change was alright. And if Ben was going to see someone different in the mirror, he might as well make sure that it was someone he wanted to see.

PART SIX

It was overcast on the day of the funeral, which Ben found fitting. Weather on Petropia was slow and infrequent, but it had still found a way to make the funeral gloomy. He scowled at the sky, hoping it would rain, though the clouds weren't nearly dark enough for that. A part of Ben was still hoping for something to ruin the "celebration," but he couldn't muster up the energy to be offended by the idea anymore. If funerals were selfish, then he supposed that it didn't really matter how Popigai's friends and family wanted to have it.

They were going to be on Petropia for a few days, much as Azmuth had insisted against it. Then Ben would go back to Galvan Prime where, hopefully, Azmuth would have reached a breakthrough to make the healing process go faster. Ben was anxious about what news might be waiting for him when he got back, though. Azmuth was starting to think that it would be impossible to reverse the damage entirely.

At least for the funeral, though, Ben's metal cuff had been taken off. Since Azmuth still wasn't quite ready to fix the Omnitrix, Ben wore it. It was shut off so that he couldn't ruin the circuits more, but it looked fine to an outsider. Ben didn't like looking at it. His stomach churned when he looked at the crystals in place of his skin. On the flight to Petropia, he moved his arm back and forth to drag his fingertips over his pants, half-hoping he might somehow feel the material. He hadn't, obviously.

It wasn't all that bad. Azmuth had finally been convinced to get Ben something different today, after Grandpa Max argued that it was necessary for a formal event. Of course, Azmuth thought that having to stop his work to get human-sized clothes for Ben was an insult and a waste of time, but he had done it anyway.

Sitting in a Petrosapien tram, Ben felt better to be wearing new clothes. It felt nothing at all like his first arrival on Petropia. He hadn't been dressed overly fancy, but he had a wrinkle-free shirt and long pants with, blessedly, pockets. He had missed having pockets. Grandpa had given him a jacket too but, since getting his letterman back from Gwen, Ben hadn't liked the idea of taking it off. He was as attached to it as he had been back in the good-old-days.

"Ben." Rook's voice broke him from his thoughts, though didn't startle him nearly as much as the hand on his shoulder.

He whirled around, tearing his gaze away from the view out the window to stare at Rook with wide eyes. Automatically, Ben's hand went to his left wrist. He grimaced when the dial failed to pop up on the Omnitrix, but couldn't help the chill that ran down his spine when his hand brushed peranite. He hoped that Azmuth managed to come up with a cure, because Ben didn't think that he would ever get used to it.

Rook took a step back, holding his hands up in surrender. Ben might have forgiven him, but that didn't erase the tension between them. It was like their first day as partners all over again and Ben couldn't get over it.

For a moment, Ben tried to look apologetic. He sat up straighter and ran a hand through his hair, looking at Rook tiredly. "What is it, dude?"

"We have arrived." Rook gestured out the window where, sure enough, the scenery had stopped moving. The tram around them was empty. When had that happened? "Everyone got off to give you some time, but we are going to be late if you wait here any longer."

Ben stood up, ignoring the pitying look in Rook's eyes. He shook his head out, trying to focus. "Sorry, I'm just…" He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say. "Sorry. Never mind."

It looked like Rook wanted to say something, he even got as far as opening his mouth, but then he decided against it. He gestured for Ben to walk in front of him and they left the tram together in silence.

Stepping out, no one said anything to Ben. The conversation that they had been having before continued, strained, and he didn't listen to any of it. Gwen and Kevin hadn't packed anything very nice, since they had only been expecting a rescue mission, but they somehow still managed to look more put-together than he was. Grandpa Max had on a Plumber suit, since he was supposed to deliver the Distinguished Service Award to Popigai's parents. Apparently, it was for "extraordinary heroism."

A part of Ben was getting sick of hearing the word hero.

The funeral — or, "celebration of life," as Petrosapiens referred to it — was being held outside. Popigai's parents, presumably, had chosen the side of a mountain for the venue. All Ben could think was that the view was very shiny. There were tents of different colors, all peranite, set up where guests were milling about. It wasn't a big event, but Ben got the feeling that Popigai didn't have a lot of friends.

Would that have changed anything? Would he have been so ready to risk his life for Ben if he had had more people to get back to?

Ben shook his head. It would take some practice to break himself of the "what if" habit.

The part of him that was nervous about having to see so many people who likely hated him was muted and distant. Truth be told, Ben was trying not to think about it. If he did, he knew he would just sit outside and refuse to go in, and Ben Tennyson was no coward. It was about finding closure, like Patience had said. It just wasn't entirely clear to him what the closure was for anymore.

His pace slowed as they approached, despite Ben's best efforts. He knew already what to expect: glares and furious muttering and a gloom that would shadow Ben for as long as he stuck around. Igneous had already mentioned in his invitation that no one was particularly happy that he was coming. At the very least, feelings were mixed enough that Ben hadn't been outright banned from attending, unlike Tetrax, who was banned from at least half of the entire planet, according to himself.

A hand on his back startled him and Ben looked up to meet Kevin's gaze. The concern in his eyes was wiped away as he smirked, forced and stiff though it was. Kevin jerked his chin toward the peranite tents and said nothing. He let Ben take a deep breath and start walking, keeping pace and leaving his hand where it was. Had it not been on his back, Ben wasn't sure that he would be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

When they reached the entrance, Kevin gave a little nudge and let his touch fall away. The others had already gone in. Ben could tell by the noises that they were in the throes of a party. Music, loud and deep enough to make the air vibrate and cause Ben's heart to pound, was playing from an indistinguishable source. There was no way for him to describe what it sounded like, but it was no music that Ben had ever heard before. Petrosapiens were laughing and talking, a faint buzz that mixed into the not-quite-music until it all became static in his ears. Soft lights were flashing and a smell that vaguely reminded Ben of hydrogen peroxide stung his nose and tingled down his throat with every breath.

He gave Kevin a pleading look over his shoulder. The urge to be as far away as possible from the noise and the lights and the people was suddenly overwhelming. Kevin's smile grew more sympathetic, but his resolve hadn't changed. He shrugged and waved Ben on.

Stepping into the tent was like stepping into a whole different world. The sights and the smells and the sounds were nothing like what they had been outside. They were so intense. Ben felt like he could taste the music and feel the lights cast colors along his skin. In a way, it was nice. He was so absorbed by how overwhelming everything was that he barely had time to notice all of the dirty looks that he was getting.

Tetrax's advice, from weeks ago, by that point, rung in Ben's head. He had been right, that Ben wanted everyone to like him. He saw how everyone grew tense when they saw him, felt their gazes burning holes in the back of his head. Knowing what he had gone through in an effort to save all of them, Ben couldn't pretend that it didn't hurt. But he couldn't be angry, either.

You couldn't be mad at someone for being themselves.

Vaguely, Ben wondered what was in the other tents, but not enough to bother trying to find an exit to go see them. He had somewhat adjusted to the room's atmosphere and he was looking for a familiar face. He wanted to find Igneous and Kimberlite, to apologize for everything with Popigai, but no matter where he turned, there was no one that he recognized.

He bumped into someone as hard and immovable as rock, letting out an involuntary grunt. Ben quickly straightened, holding his hands up to appear as unthreatening as possible. Although, it really wasn't that difficult.

"Sorry," Ben said reflexively, looking up at the Petrosapien he had been knocked against by the jostling crowd. "Totally my mistake. I didn't mean to."

The woman was sneering before Ben even had the first word out of his mouth. She turned away from the people she had been speaking to to face him completely. "I think you have more to apologize for than just bumping into me," she said icily.

For a moment, Ben stared blankly, racking his brain for what she could be talking about. Was it for not reforming Petropia correctly the first time? Was she upset that Ben hadn't fixed everything faster? Did she blame him for something that he hadn't even done yet?

Then Ben took in her appearance. The color of her peranite, her eyes, down to her build, slimmer than average even for a female Petrosapien. Familiarity hit like a brick to the head.

"You're Popigai's mom," he said weakly.

It hadn't been a question, but she felt the need to answer anyway. "Yes. And you're Ben Tennyson, the offworlder who killed my son."

The word "killed" made Ben wince. He took a step back, but she followed him. Frantic, Ben scrambled for something to say. "I— I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't—"

"Don't feel like taking responsibility?" She snapped. There were no tears in her eyes, no sign of her voice about to break. Popigai's mom was filled to the brim with rage, as though she'd had to empty everything else out of her just to make room for it. "My son is dead because of you, Ben Tennyson! If you had never gotten involved, Popigai would still be alive!"

Ben laughed nervously — he couldn't help it. "That's not really what happ—"

She cut him off with a furious shout. "You think this is some kind of joke?" Before Ben could formulate a response, she snarled, lunging for his throat.

At the same time, a hand clamped down on her shoulder, stopping her. Ben stumbled back and hit someone else, but he didn't turn around to face then. He couldn't take his eyes away from Popigai's mom. Nothing had changed in the room, but suddenly the lights had been turned off and the music was drained from the world. No one around them was moving and, despite himself, Ben's heart rate picked up. It felt like he was caged in. There was no where he could go.

"Zirconia, please," the man who had grabbed Popigai's mom said gently, his expression strained. "You promised that you wouldn't do this. We're in public."

She tore her arm free of his grip without sparing him even a glance. Still, she didn't make another attempt to grab Ben. "Go away, Carbide. I don't need to hear another lecture from you when I know that you hate him just as much as I do."

Of all the times for the Omnitrix to be turned off… Ben cursed loudly in his head, eyes darting around for Kevin. Hadn't he come in right after Ben? Where had he gone off to? He was pretty sure that Popigai's mom — Zirconia, apparently — was about to rip his arms off and use them to beat him to death. Her glare promised that it wouldn't be a quick death and the only thing between them was a few feet of space.

Suddenly, Ben's view of Zirconia was cut off. Carbide stood between them, facing her, and took hold of her hands. Furious, Zirconia tried to tug her hands free, but Carbide didn't let her. Their hands made a table grating sound as peranite rubbed together.

"It doesn't matter what we think of Ben Tennyson," Carbide said firmly. Zirconia stilled, more indignant than she was actually listening to him. "What matters is that… Popigai admired him. He was our son's idol. This day is meant to commemorate him. Please, Zirconia, don't make this about you."

It felt as though the whole room was holding its breath. Ben couldn't see her expression with Carbide in his way, but he didn't need to. He could tell that nothing would erase that anger. Nothing he ever said or did or accomplished would change her opinion on him.

"Fine," Zirconia spat, venom dripping from the words. "But only for Popigai. And only for this one time."

She made sure to catch Ben's gaze before turning away. The urge to avoid her stare was almost overwhelming, but Ben forced himself to hold it. He wanted to remember the searing look in her eyes. Zirconia wasn't the first person to hate him and Ben knew — he had to accept — that she wouldn't be the last.

But, true to her word, she left. Color gradually returned to his surroundings and Ben let out the breath that he had been holding. He felt light-headed. Maybe it really had been a mistake to try and attend.

He looked up when Carbide shifted. Ben was half-expecting Popigai's dad to simply follow Zirconia without looking back but, surprisingly, he turned around and looked down at Ben instead. There was hatred on his face, clear as day, the same as his wife. But there was something else, too. Pity, almost. Ben didn't know how to describe it.

"I'm sorry that she made a scene," he said slowly, as though every word took incredible effort. Ben didn't blame him. Carbide probably wanted him dead too, like half of the other people in attendance. "It would be best if you paid your respects and didn't stay very long, Ben Tennyson. But I can't ask you to leave. I know that Popigai would have wanted you here and that's enough for me to tolerate it."

For a moment, Ben wanted to protest. How could he possibly know what Popigai would have wanted? How could he stand there putting words in his son's mouth and thoughts in his head, as if that could somehow bring him back? But Ben held himself back and, instead, nodded and managed, "Thank you, sir. I'm sorry. For everything. I never wanted this to happen."

Carbide took a deep breath. "I know," was all he said, sadly, and then he left.

Ben didn't stick around long enough to figure out what the people around them thought of the whole exchange. He pushed his way through the gaps between bodies of peranite, frantic to get away. It was suddenly hard to breathe in the tent. He needed the fresh air. Ben moved toward the only light he could see that wasn't pulsing and multi-colored.

He was halfway there when a hand grabbed him by his good wrist. Ben automatically gasped as he tipped forward, his shoulder joint popping with the force of his stop. The hand let him go almost as quickly as it had grabbed him, but Rook's presence lingered at his side.

"Are you alright, Ben?" Rook asked, coming around in front of him to get a better look at him. His hands were held up, somewhere between a surrender and struggling not to touch Ben and check for injuries. "I heard a commotion. Did something happen? No one hurt you, right?"

"Someone tried. But I'm fine," Ben insisted. He looked away, clutching his peranite-infected arm to his chest protectively. "I'm just stepping outside. I need to get some air."

Rook nodded. "In that case, I will join you and—"

"No!" Ben cut him off with a shout, much louder than intended. He grimaced. "I mean, uh— No, thanks. I'm good. I want to be alone right now."

A frown came to Rook's face. He stepped closer, one hand outstretched. "Ben, I…" Rook didn't finish. As he approached, Ben noticeable flinched, taking a step back. There was a flicker of shock in Rook's eyes, then his expression smoothed out, perfectly blank. Something about his expression was acutely sad and Ben couldn't place why.

"Really, Rook. I just want to be alone," Ben muttered. He kept his head down and walked past his ex-partner without another word. He didn't look back and Rook didn't try to stop him.

Outside, Ben stumbled away from the peranite tent and put his hands on his knees, taking a deep breath. There were other tents, filled with other people, playing other music, dedicated to different things… But no matter where Ben went, he knew it would be the same. Hatred was always the same and he had earned himself plenty of it.

More calmly, he walked further away from the tent, until he could hear himself thinking again. The music was making Ben's head throb. He sank to his knees and, with a groan, flopped down onto his back. Hitting the peranite didn't feel very good, but Ben didn't care. He shrugged his jacket off, feeling flushed and heated despite the cooler air. Dark clouds swirled above his head. Was it too much to ask for rain, just a few drops?

He set his arm over his eyes and sighed. Everything was overwhelming and he wasn't even sure why. Ben hadn't thought about Popigai a lot, mostly because every time he started to, he would yank himself back. The crux of the issue, really, was that Ben just didn't want to be there. He had never liked funerals and he liked the idea of "celebrating" someone's life even less. There was nothing to celebrate. Popigai had been murdered trying to protect Ben, as if he was somehow worth it. How was that supposed to be honorable? How could any of these people fool themselves into believing that, in his last moments, Popigai didn't regret it?

Ben wasn't sure how long he laid there. At some point, the music stopped, but that didn't do anything to make him want to get up. There were voices, people talking over a speaker system, but Ben was too far away to make out the words. If he could have, it would have only motivated him to move even further away.

Footsteps. Ben tilted his head back, looking up only when the person approaching stopped and a shadow fell over him. He only had a handful of guesses as to who it was so, as soon as Ben saw the silhouette of a Petrosapien, the name slipped out. "Igneous? What are you doing out here?" Ben sat up, leaning back on his palms for support.

"Same thing you are, probably. They're doing the eulogy in there and I couldn't take all of the cheering and laughter," he said with a shrug. Igneous took a seat next to Ben, tilting his head back to stare up at the dreary sky. "It's been overcast for days…" he muttered. Then, to Ben, "I wouldn't stick around if I were you. Ever since I invited you guys to come, Kimberlite has been more pissed than usual. She threatened to twist your spine into a necklace and she doesn't even like jewelry."

He almost told Igneous that he didn't plan on staying any longer than he had to, but Ben held himself back. It felt like something that Igneous already knew. "Why aren't you mad at me, then?" He asked. "Everyone else is. This whole thing is my fault."

Igneous thought about it for a moment. "Right now, there's nothing but rumors. No one really knows how Popigai… passed away, other than…" He pointed to his face. "...what they did to his head. And that you were probably involved, but…" Igneous trailed off, swallowing thickly. "Honestly, you probably don't want to talk about what happened and I don't want to hear it, either. I don't want to be mad at anyone. I don't think I have it in me to be mad, I just…" He closed his eyes and his voice dropped to a whisper. "I never knew how much I could miss him."

There was silence. Neither of them had anything else to add. Ben understood how Igneous was feeling, sort of. He had been so overwhelmed lately, so consumed by everything that had happened, that he hadn't had much time for anything else. It felt like he had been scooped out and left to dry.

"It's okay to miss him," Ben said finally. "He missed you. He was only there because—"

"—because he was protecting me," Igneous finished, his voice choked with emotion. He broke off and rubbed his eyes again. "I know, you don't have to remind me. If anyone's, it's my fault. I… Fuck. He's gone. He's never coming back, is he? I knew how he felt about me and I… I kept holding out, as if she would, but—" He curled in on himself, ducking his face out of sight. "We fought so well together. Maybe if I had just… given him a chance, he wouldn't have… and we could have…!"

He stopped himself when Ben set a hand on his shoulder, but didn't look up. "Don't think about the what ifs," Ben told him evenly. "You'll never be able to move on like that."

It took a moment but, eventually, Igneous lifted his head. He stared at Ben for what felt like a long time, not saying anything, not moving, barely even blinking. Then, looking faint, he breathed, "I need to tell Kimberlite how I feel. I'm sick of this. He— Popigai would want me to be happy," Igneous said firmly, but then his expression wavered. He looked to Ben as though for confirmation. "Wouldn't he?"

That one, Ben didn't need to pretend to know the answer to. He smiled faintly. "I think that's all he really wanted."

Abruptly, Igneous stood. He nodded once to Ben, then turned and left without a word. It was hard to blame him for that, though. He looked as though the next time he opened his mouth, he wouldn't be able to stop the stream of words until someone forced him to.

Ben slipped his jacket back on and frowned, playing the fraying collar between the fingers of his good hand. Maybe he should start to take his own advice. He was alive and mostly healthy, but the next day wasn't a guarantee. When Ben eventually died, he didn't want to leave with any regrets.

Speaking of…

The next set of footsteps, Ben recognized. He didn't move, though. Metal boots clinked against peranite as Rook came to a stop at Ben's side. After a long moment where he waited to be acknowledged, Rook eventually chose to clear his throat. "I realize that you wanted to be alone but, Ben, I must ask… Are you alright?"

Enough. If Ben was going to be someone else, he might as well introduce himself.

He let out a long sigh, stood up, and turned around to look Rook straight in the eye. "You know what? Forget this. Let's start over, okay? I'll go first." Ben held out his hand for Rook to shake, ignoring his surprise. "My name is Ben Tennyson. And you are…?"

To his faint surprise, Rook bumped his palm with his fist. "It is an honor and a pleasure to meet you, Ben Tennyson," he said, smiling. "I am Rook Blonko. I hope we will be fast friends."

Normally, Ben didn't hug people that he had just met, but he couldn't help himself. He grinned and threw his arms around Rook's shoulders. He automatically felt arms come up to hold him in return, their weight leaning together until they were pressed so close that Ben could swear he felt Rook's warmth through his armor.

His smile stayed, but his cheeks felt wet. Finally, Ben realized dizzily, he was crying. He tucked his face against Rook's neck and let out a shaky sigh. "I missed you," Ben murmured.

There was no reply from Rook, but the way he clutched Ben tighter was answer enough. Above them, the clouds finally split open. Rain fell as a sprinkle, barely enough to get their clothes wet, but it was a start. And, sometimes, that was all it took.

PART SEVEN

The next morning on Petropia should have been the day that they went back to Galvan Prime, but it wasn't. Grandpa Max received a notice from the Magistratus about Petropia's current position in terms of government. A lot of it went over Ben's head, mostly because he hadn't been paying that much attention. Apparently, though, while Ben had been kidnapped, Argyle had killed the entirety of the high-ranking government and Plumber figures, leaving the planet with no one to manage the infrastructure. That meant more paperwork, obviously, but for Grandpa Max, he would only have to stay one more day and hold a specific ceremony.

Technically, Ben wasn't required to be there, but he wanted to be. If people saw it as some sort of political statement, then good for them, but Ben wanted to support his friend. Or, maybe "friend" was stretching it. He wasn't sure where he stood with Mantle after everything that had happened but, at the very least, "ally" had to be a safe bet.

Ben was wearing the same thing that he had worn to Popigai's funeral, because it was still the nicest thing he had available to wear. And for a ceremony as important as the one he was attending, formal wear went without saying.

He tugged his letterman jacket on, looking at his reflection in the mirror. Ben ran his tongue over his front teeth and grimaced. Having a toothbrush would be nice, but that wasn't the end of the world. His hair was brushing his shoulders and he wished that he had something to tie it back with. The idea of growing it out was starting to appeal to Ben the more that he thought about it.

Straightening up, Ben surveyed the peranite room around him. It was just temporary, a place for him to sleep and only that, but… It brought back memories. They weren't good memories but, regardless, Ben thought back to the first time he had spent the night in the Petrosapien Plumber base. Things had been so different back then, so much more manageable… He had changed so much. But, Ben mused, at least he still recognized the face in the mirror.

He waved his Omnitrix-arm over the scanner next to the door and it slid open to reveal the hallway. Ben was sick of steel and peranite, but it was only another week at the most, and then he could go home. For the time being, he put the thought out of mind. It was supposed to be a good day. And if he told himself that for long enough, eventually it would come true.

Another door opened with the soft hiss of hydraulics and Ben turned to see Rook leaving his room. They stared at each other for a moment, then Rook smiled and Ben managed to relax. "You are early," he said, approaching Ben. "The ceremony is not for another half hour. Are you feeling restless?"

Shoving his good hand into his jacket pocket, Ben shrugged one shoulder and nodded. "Yeah. A little. I guess I started getting ready too early and ran out of things to do. You can only adjust your shirt collar so many times before you have to admit that you're just stalling."

Rook made a show out of eyeing him. "You do look like you have been fidgeting with your clothes." He stepped closer, hands held out so that Ben could see what they were doing. Rook's movements were slow but, when Ben didn't pull away or attempt to stop him, he didn't hesitate to continue. He set his hands on Ben's shoulders, pinching his shirt and jacket collar together between his thumb and forefingers and straightening them out. "You could stand to iron your shirt, but I understand that might be an impossibility given our current situation."

Ben shook his head, brushing Rook's hand away with a scoff. "Bold words coming from someone who can't even wear a tie over the same armor you always wear." He jabbed Rook in the chest for emphasis, not that he would have felt it through his Proto-Armor. "Where's the class? The elegance? The panache? I swear, dude, you're making all of us look bad."

That got a chuckle out of Rook. His expression had softened and he was looking at Ben strangely. The emotion in Rook's eyes tickled something in the back of Ben's mind, like he had seen that look somewhere else before, but it was gone before he could place it. Rook gestured down the hall. "If you can stand being a little early, we can leave now. It is not as though there is anything else to do here."

"Sure." Ben turned away and jerked his head so that Rook knew it was okay to follow. "I'm really happy for Mantle. This seems like it'll really help get Petropia back on its feet, though I'm still not sure how they're going to go about filling so many open spots in the government."

With surprising nonchalance, Rook shrugged. "I assume they have protocols in place for emergency cases. If they do not, then they will have to make them. It is not the Plumber's job to decide how they manage themselves, simply to safeguard their right to do so. It is not for us to concern ourselves with."

Smiling, Ben rolled his eyes playfully and said, "Yeah, let's just hope that they get someone else to do the check-up next year."

Their conversation lapsed into silence, but Ben didn't think that it was awkward. They still hadn't quite found their footing, but that was alright. Things would get better between them, Ben was certain of it. He was more worried when it felt like he had to fill the silence with words to keep from feeling out-of-place. He risked a glance at Rook but his expression was distant, lost in thought. That was better than feeling trapped into talking to someone. Besides, Ben had been talking himself in circles recently, in his head and to others. He tried to empty his head and appreciate the rare quiet.

The Petrosapien Plumber base was big enough that it had several event halls, numbered from least lavish to the most gaudy waste of money. Although, because it was all made of peranite anyway, Ben supposed that no real money was being wasted, just a lot of time and effort. Either way, because the event was a big deal, their ceremony was being held in the Fifth Hall, which was the biggest and fanciest room that the Plumber base could offer.

After countless weeks around the stuff and having an arm permanently made out of it, Ben had somewhat lost his awe for peranite. Still, he could appreciate the craftsmanship. The room was enormous, deep underground and the size of a football field. It didn't need supports, but delicate pillars dotted the room, smooth curls of peranite that were no thicker than Ben's wrist. They sprouted from the ground to the ceiling like vines, tangled in on each other with exotic peranite flowers of all different shades and designs sprouting from the columns.

Tables that could seat up to fifteen people filled the room on either side, leaving a wide walkway straight down the middle, from the door to the stage on the opposite end of the room. There were no windows so far from the surface, but chandeliers as big as cars hung from the ceiling high above their heads, glowing with ethereal blue light.

Ben took it all in with a grin on his face. Maybe it was a little childish, but few things got his attention like pretty, flickering lights. The room was completely empty, so Ben turned in a slow circle to take it in all at once. To Rook, he asked, "Have you ever seen something this amazing in your life?"

When Ben looked over at him, Rook was staring at him with that odd look on his face again. "Once or twice," was all he said, prying his gaze away from Ben to look up at the ceiling.

They were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Other early arrivals, Ben guessed. He knew that they were Petrosapiens based on their foot falls, but he had been expecting to turn around and make polite eye contact with strangers, not to look over his shoulder and see Conway and Sybil.

At the very least, Conway looked nervous, walking a few steps behind his sister and making a concentrated effort to not look at Ben. Sybil, on the other hand, was grinning. With half of her face caved in and corroded away, it looked a lot creepier than it should have been.

"Ben! I had a feeling I might find you here." She waved as they approached, stopping in front of Ben and jerking her head back the way they had come. "If you're not too busy, could we speak in private for a few minutes? It won't take long, but I think there are some things that we need to clarify. You have some questions, Ben." It wasn't asked as a question which, Ben supposed, was because Sybil already knew the answer.

It had been so long since he saw her last. Was he supposed to be angry with her, too?

"Uh, yeah, sure." Ben nodded. He wasn't entirely sure that he actually wanted to talk in private with the two of them, but he knew that he didn't want Rook hanging around that conversation. He had a funny feeling that he knew what they were going to say, anyway. Waving Rook away, Ben stepped forward as Sybil and Conway turned to lead the way. "I'll be right back. Just give me a few minutes, alright?"

He didn't wait for an answer, though he got the feeling that Rook wouldn't have refused him regardless. Ben followed several feet behind the two of them, their group completely silent. He was expecting to go to a different place to talk, but the room was big enough that they really didn't need to. As soon as Rook was out of earshot, Sybil made a beeline for the nearest pilar and ducked behind it. They were still visible from the open Hall doors, but Rook couldn't see them or, hopefully, hear them, either.

Alone with Sybil and Conway, Ben looked between the two of them and took a deep breath. He suspected that he was going to have to be the one to start the conversation. "Do you expect us all to leave on good terms?" He asked both of them, knowing they would have different answers.

They shared a look. Sybil made a shooing motion and Conway sighed, turning back to face Ben fully. "No," he said, though he didn't seem happy about it. "After everything, I'm surprised you can still forgive anyone if we're being honest. It looks like you made up with Rook, though. I'm glad. He was tearing himself apart trying to rescue you."

Without thinking about it, Ben shot back, "Which he wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't handed me over in the first place."

Conway winced. "Point taken."

Sometimes, Ben wished that he was one of those people who got enjoyment out of lording someone's mistakes over their head. It seemed like it would be a lot easier than feeling guilty all the time. He slumped, anger dissipating like smoke. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. Look, I… Things with Rook are different. We talked it out. We have history. We'll see each other plenty in the future. But you… I'm not sure I'll ever even come back to Petropia, let alone see either of you again. I don't think I have enough time to properly forgive you."

"We don't plan to stay here, either," Conway added, "but I see your point. Can we just… agree to not hate each other?"

Ben smiled faintly. "As long as I never see you again? Sure. I can't say I forgive you, but I'm not going to hold it against you. Otherwise I'd have to reconsider my whole friendship with Kevin." His expression fell. "And don't feel bad, that you didn't get forgiveness, I mean. You're not going to get it from everyone. Maybe you should try to be a better person first. I think you've got the steps out of order."

For a moment, Conway looked surprised, then he smiled and shook his head slowly. "I don't know how you hand out such good advice. You've barely got your own life in order, Tennyson. Maybe you could learn something about prioritizing, too."

His grin widened. "I hear that a lot," Ben joked.

It was quiet for a moment, a little bit awkward, but not tense. Ben held out his fist for a bump, chuckling when Conway raised an eyebrow. He said nothing and, after a moment, Conway tentatively mirrored the action and let Ben nudge their fists together.

"I'm glad I met you," Ben said and meant it. "I hope you find what you're looking for out there. I don't think it's here." He gestured vaguely toward space, high above their heads.

There was a soft note of fondness in Conway's eyes that was quickly wiped away. He nodded curtly. "And same to you, Ben. But I think you've already found what you need." Before Ben could reply, he turned to Sybil, clapping his sister on the shoulder. "I'll leave you both. I've said all that I need to." He waited for her to acknowledge him before turning and leaving.

Both Ben and Sybil watched him go, heading straight for the door instead of staying in the room. Conway didn't look back. Like Patience, Ben knew that he would never see the man again, but he found something oddly fitting about that. They had been in each other's lives for a short amount of time and now that chapter of the story was finished. He was going to miss them both, for reasons that he couldn't put into words. Ben just hoped that he had managed to make a lasting impression, the way that they had for him.

Alone again, Ben turned back to Sybil. She didn't say anything and, based on the look on her face, she didn't plan to. He knew what he wanted to ask, sort of. Phrasing it like a question didn't seem correct.

"You let Conway kidnap me," Ben said finally. "During that attack on the base, you directed me to him knowing what would happen." He lifted his crystallized arm. "All of it."

Sybil smiled sadly. "Yes. I'm sorry, Ben. Some things are destined to happen. I've spent decades trying to change the future and it never works. I didn't want this for you, but we all have a role to play. Mine didn't happen to be very memorable, but it rarely is." She looked away. 'You're angry with me." It wasn't a question and she didn't need an answer. Ben's silence spoke volumes. "There's no excuse or reason I can give you that you don't already know, Ben. I don't need your forgiveness. We'll never see each other again after I walk away, I guarantee it. I'm just happy that you're alright."

Lips pursed unhappily, Ben was quiet. Was he alright, though? Really? He couldn't remember the last time that he felt "alright."

He stared at Sybil, long and hard. He had forgiven Conway (well, partly forgiven, anyway) because he knew that the man was willing and able to change, to become someone deserving of forgiveness. But Sybil, Ben knew, would never change. She couldn't, she had said as much herself. Whether she had been born having visions of the future or if it was a talent that she had developed, it made no difference. She had a part to play, they all did, and someday she was going to knowingly send someone to die because it was what was meant to happen. Assuming that she hadn't done as much already. But if she was telling the truth, and the future was immoveable, could Ben really hold her accountable?

He took a deep breath. "I can't really stay mad at you," Ben muttered. "I know you didn't want to do it, but… that doesn't really change your role in it all."

"It's alright," Sybil said gently. She stepped forward and leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to Ben's cheek. "I wouldn't forgive me, either." Without another word, not even looking at him, Sybil had turned away and was following the same path her brother had taken.

For a split second, Ben almost went after her. He could insist that that wasn't it, tell her how much he wanted to forgive her, say that he had no hard feelings, really, but…

It wouldn't be honest. There was some sort of block there, when Ben tried to say that he forgave her. He couldn't. His arm was throbbing where skin was knitted into peranite.

Once she was gone, Ben walked back over to Rook. He wasn't feeling anywhere near as enthusiastic as he had been before but, hey, it was supposed to be a celebratory day. He could force a little cheer back into it.

Evidently, he hadn't faked his smile well-enough. As soon as Rook saw him, he raised an eyebrow and, barely missing a beat, said, "Was it that bad?"

Ben scowled, but he knew that Rook didn't mean to be so blunt or rude, so he shrugged it off. "I don't want to talk about it," he sighed. "We've still got, like, twenty minutes until the ceremony is supposed to start. What do you want to do until then?"

As time passed, guests slowly trickled in, more and more of them with every fresh wave. All of them were Petrosapiens, except for Grandpa Max and Gwen and Kevin. Since his role was as part of the ceremony, Ben wasn't expecting to see Grandpa on the floor with them. Gwen and Kevin arrived together and ended up joining Ben and Rook near the front, by their designated seats. They were just talking to pass the time, mostly Rook filling Ben in on what had happened while he was kidnapped and then Ben taking over for after he was impaled, though he skipped around a lot more and omitted most of the details.

A few minutes from the beginning of the ceremony, someone came in that Ben hadn't been expecting to see. He felt a hush fall over the rest of the guests, discontent mutterings and tension thick enough to cut. They had already given Ben and his friends plenty of space, but they parted like the Red Sea to make way as Tetrax crossed the room.

"Tetrax!" Ben jumped at the opportunity to greet his friend, rushing over to him. Things might have been a little bit awkward between them, before, but if he could forgive Tetrax for destroying a world and shattering Ben into a hundred pieces, risking killing him, then Ben could forgive him for anything. A grin worked its way onto his face, headless of the sneers and comments they were getting. "What are you doing here? You're not a Plumber."

"No," Tetrax agreed, a barely-there smile on his face. "But this is a special occasion. I was invited to attend as an honored guest."

Unable to keep the surprise off of his face, Ben arched an eyebrow. "Invited? Oh, was it Grandpa Max?" He guessed. That was the only possibility that made sense to him. His friends would have told them if they were planning to invite Tetrax.

"Good guess," said Tetrax with a nod, "but it was actually Mantle. He wanted me here."

Ben had to process that a few times, because he was sure he had misheard Tetrax somehow. But, no, he hadn't. He had really said that Mantle invited him — the same guy who couldn't stand to look at either of them without sneering when all of this started.

He had been about to ask for more details, but then the lights in the room were lowered. What little buzz of conversation remained after Tetrax's arrival was swiftly disbanded and everyone still standing went to find their seats. They were numbered, from what Ben knew, but he hadn't really paid attention when the assignments had been handed out. He took the seat next to Rook and Tetrax sat on his other side, Gwen and Kevin next to Rook. The huge table looked empty with just the five of them sitting around it, but at least that meant that Ben had an unblocked view of the stage.

There wasn't a long wait. Once everything had gone quiet, Grandpa Max exited onto the stage from the left, smiling and waving at the crowd. There was a polite applause that died down once he got to the center and held up his hand. Petrosapiens apparently didn't use podiums or microphones for delivering a speech, because Max was the only thing on that stage. He was wearing a full Plumber suit, with the badge displaying his rank proudly clipped to the front of his belt. In one hand, Max was holding a framed certificate.

"Everyone," he began in a booming voice that echoed off of the walls and ceilings, "today, we have all gathered, proud and victorious, after a long and harrowing fight. When the future of Petropia and her people were threatened, everyone in this room came together to right the wrongs that were being committed. And we succeeded!" He paused when a passionate smattering of applause broke out, letting them finish before continuing. "But this victory wasn't without costs. We lost many in influential positions of power and, while many of those spots are still being filled, I'm here to fill one now."

Max paused as, on cue, Mantle left the wings of the stage. He walked stiffly across the stage to stand at attention next to Max, expressionless even in the face of a room full of people clapping and cheering for him.

Once the applause died down all on its own, Max held up the certificate he brought with him, framed in silver and printed in the Petrosapien language. "Corporal Donpeacorite Mantle, for all you've done in the efforts of making this planet safer, going against authority to do what you knew was right, I'm proud to announce that you are the new Head Magister of Petropia. The Plumbers leave this planet in your capable hands."

More cheers came from the crowd, the applause practically deafening. It sounded like someone was shattering glass over every inch of the room. Max handed the framed certificate of his station over to Mantle, both of them pulling out their Plumber badges. Quickly pressing a few buttons, Max swiped his over Mantle's and it glowed blue before fading back into the usual green. From then on, it would display his new rank.

Despite the noise of the crowd, Ben let himself be sucked into the enthusiasm. He cheered and clapped, the sound of it getting lost before it could reach even his own ears. It didn't matter. He was grinning hard enough that his cheeks ached. Mantle deserved this.

His job done, Max exited the stage. A minute later, once the loudest clapping yet was finally slowing, he slipped into the empty seat next to Gwen. There was a knowing smile on Grandpa's face that made Ben pause, curious, but he didn't get to ask about it. His attention was once again taken by the stage.

"I thank all of you for coming," Mantle said to the crowd. He didn't wait for them to be quiet, he just continued on speaking and they followed his lead. Despite himself, Ben chuckled. "In light of my new position, the first thing I'd like to do with my new rank is present a few awards of my own. So, if my special guests will please take the stage…" He held out his empty hand and made a fist, forming a set of stairs into the base of the stage. "...I have a few things I'd like to say, that I think everyone needs to hear."

The lights were turned on but, Ben realized as he blinked away the initial glare, only above his table. There was no applause from the crowd. The announcement was met with dead silence, not so much as a whisper. Uncaring, Mantle started clapping, an easy smile on his face. He didn't acknowledge that there were even other people in the room — his focus was entirely on the table of six.

Ben snuck a look at Grandpa Max and saw a grin on his face. Catching Ben's eye, he winked, and that was what made everything click together.

Relaxing, almost amused by the whole thing, Ben was the first person at his table to stand, swiftly followed by Rook and Kevin and Gwen. He nudged Tetrax but all Ben got in response was a polite smile and a single shake of the head.

He was going to leave it at that before, surprising everyone in the room, Mantle suddenly said, "Sparing Magister Tennyson, I'd like everyone sitting at that table to come up on stage. I'm not fond of repeating myself." There was no harshness in his tone, though. The smile on Mantle's face was only for Tetrax.

There was a moment where Ben was convinced that Tetrax would insist on staying seated or, maybe, he would even get up and leave. Instead, moving stiffly, he stood and approached the stage. When Mantle gave an incline of his head, Tetrax climbed the stairs, with Ben and the others right behind him.

Being on the stage and facing that silent crowd was twice as nerve-wracking as it had been when Ben was tucked away at his table. But through the glare of the lights, he couldn't see any of their faces. He told himself that he was facing an empty room and tried to ignore it.

"I thought for a long time about what to do with you five," Mantle said finally. He waved somewhere off stage and another Petrosapien came out to take his certificate and scramble away with it, probably putting it somewhere for safe keeping. With his hands free, Mantle crossed his arms as he paced back and forth. "All of you have disobeyed direct orders, made a mockery of me and the Plumbers, undermined authority, put countless numbers of my cadets in danger, and…!" He paused, looking up and catching Ben's unflinching stare. Then he smiled. "And none of us would be here if not for your actions."

Again, Mantle gestured for something tucked behind the stage. A different Petrosapien came out carrying a metal case, handing it over to Mantle before leaving. The case was small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of one giant hand and Mantle opened it, holding it up to show the delicate-looking medals pinned inside of it, baby blue ribbons and golden medallions.

That got a reaction from the crowd. Whispers broke out and even a few less-than-polite shouts. Some people stood from their chairs but, Ben noticed, no one tried to stop Mantle or attempted to leave the room.

Ignoring all of it, Mantle spoke over them. "I thought about what sort of reward you should all be given but even the highest honor that a Plumber of my station can bestow doesn't accurately describe the gratitude that I have for all that you've done. It will have to do. So, for gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, I'm here to present the Medal of Honor to…" He started at the end of their line, holding one medal up and pinning it to the left side of Kevin's chest. "...Kevin Levin…" Another step forward and he repeated the process to Gwen. "...Gwendolyn Tennyson…" There was no way to stick a pin through Rook's Proto-Armor, so Mantle shrugged and simply handed it to him. "...Rook Blonko…" He stopped in front of Ben, pausing, and there was a fond upward-tilt of Mantle's mouth when he pinned the medal to Ben's jacket, letting the heavy medallion fall on the "10" right over his heart. "...Ben Tennyson, and…" There was an audible gasp as Tetrax's breath caught. Because of his armor, there was again nowhere to pin the medal, but Mantle handed it over and let their hands linger. For the split-second that both men stared at each other, an entire conversation passed between their eyes. Ben had no idea what it meant but he got the feeling that he wasn't meant to. "...Tetrax Shard. For all the good that you've done this planet, and many before it, and undoubtedly many more in the future, thank you."

Mantle and Grandpa Max both clapped and, to Ben's surprise, a few others in the crowd did, as well. Then the clapping grew louder, until half the room was cheering. It wasn't nearly as deafening as it had been before, but Ben didn't care. It could have been only Grandpa and Mantle clapping and his grin would have been just as big.

It was while the cheering was still happening that Mantle leaned over to Tetrax. "You know," he muttered, just barely loud enough for Ben to overhear, "we're always welcoming new cadets if you're ever interested."

At his side, Tetrax went rigid. Then he let out a slow breath. "No, thank you," he said quietly back. "I'm not the type for Plumber work. But I appreciate the offer."

There was a ghost of a smile on Conway's face. He set a hand lightly on Tetrax's shoulder. "Still. With reconstruction coming up, we can use all the help we can get, whether it comes from someone with a badge or not. I know you don't have much of a reason to anymore, but I'd appreciate if you considered staying." And that was it. Mantle, still clapping, waved all of them back off stage as the lights came on and the celebratory party finally began.

Lingering behind the others, Ben made sure to get Tetrax's attention, nudging him softly. He stopped walking at the base of the stairs, Ben next to him. In silence, they both surveyed the crowd. Music had started and the table and chairs were moved out of the way to make room for buffet tables being brought into the room and more space to gather and talk.

Ben looked up at Tetrax and smiled. Their eyes locked but, surprisingly, Tetrax made no move to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. There was no point in denying the emotion swelling in both of them. "Maybe you were wrong before," Ben said quietly, for only Tetrax to hear. "Maybe you really can be forgiven."

Swallowing hard, Tetrax was clutching his ribbon so tightly that Ben thought it might break. "Yes," he agreed faintly. "Maybe."

PART EIGHT

There was something enormous about seeing the Earth from space. Ben had seen dozens of planets at a distance, but none of them invoked a feeling anywhere close to what Earth did to him.

He had his face and his good hand pressed against the window, as though he could climb through the glass if it meant getting there faster. And Ben would have used an alien form to get down there, but even though Azmuth had fixed the Omnitrix and activated it for him, Ben had been given strict limitations on how often and how long and under what circumstances it should be used. He didn't want to push it. That didn't help the nervous energy under his skin though, bubbling and building until he thought he might combust if they didn't land immediately.

He was startled by a hand on his shoulder, turning around to see Gwen. She left her hand where it was, following where Ben had been looking to stare at the Earth with a soft expression. "It feels good to be home," she said.

Turning back to the window, Ben nodded once. "Yeah," he agreed weakly. He didn't have the words to express how he was really feeling. It felt like he had found something he had been searching years for. It was more than just a homecoming, it was a part of him. Ben had the sudden, strange urge to pluck the Earth from that backdrop of stars and keep it tucked in his pocket for safe keeping.

Gwen squeezed his shoulder once and let her hand drop. "We should sit down. Kevin's going to be breaching the atmosphere soon."

Ben nodded and left the window, taking his seat in the cabin of the Rustbucket next to her. Grandpa Max, sitting across from them and on Kevin's other side, smiled reassuringly. Rook didn't look up from the screens he was monitoring, but Ben felt him staring out of the corner of his eyes and couldn't help but chuckle.

Next to him, Gwen cleared her throat politely. When she had Ben's attention again, she pulled out a slim hologram card from her pants' pocket and handed it to him. "Here. The Plumber's have a service that you can pick from for a therapist. I didn't pick one out for you, but you can call and tell them what you're looking for if you want. It's completely anonymous, too. If you have the authority to get into a Plumber base for your sessions, they don't need your name or rank if you don't want to give it to them."

He knew that he had agreed to seeing a therapist but, still, Ben hesitated. He really wished that she hadn't mentioned it in front of the others, though it wasn't exactly a secret. There wouldn't be time to talk about it once they landed, though. As soon as his feet were on solid ground, Ben knew that there was only one place he wanted to be and he wasn't going to stick around to talk about therapy.

Begrudgingly, he took the holocard from Gwen and opened it, reading the professional print. It gave a brief overview of the program and a number to call to schedule a session. On the back, a few names and photos were listed, along with their qualifications. Ben looked over the selections and sighed. He really wanted to speak to a human, though he couldn't explain why. Maybe it was just for a sense of normalcy. His problems were rooted in the Omnitrix and his hero work, so Ben thought that something removed from all of that would be best.

"Thanks," he said, putting the card away. "I'll let you know when I schedule something."

Thankfully, Gwen didn't push it. She gave a hesitant smile and turned away, buckling herself in and looking out the window.

Getting himself strapped in as well, Ben didn't look to the window. Instead, he stared at his hands folded in his lap and tried to move his crystalized one. Azmuth had given him instructions to start trying to exercise it, along with some medication and radiation treatment that was supposed to return his arm to normal. It was losing the blue color and the shards weren't sticking out as dramatically anymore, but Ben still couldn't move it or feel anything below his elbow. He turned his palm over, tracing his exposed fingertips with his good hand. The tips of them were sticking out but, as far as Ben could tell, he didn't have fingernails or finger prints on his left hand anymore.

He grimaced. Healing was never fast or painless or easy. He hadn't expected anything else and yet, somehow, he was still disappointed.

"Breaking the atmosphere in one minute and counting," Kevin announced, doing a quick check of his instruments. "Everyone had better be buckled in. I'm not promising a smooth landing for this one." He didn't say anything but Ben got the feeling that Kevin had missed Earth just as much as everyone else had.

"So it'll be like your usual landings, then," Ben joked.

Kevin shot a weak glare over his shoulder, the effect ruined by the smile on his face. "Just for that, the turbulance on that side of the ship is going to be twice as bad."

Rook started to say something, probably to remind Kevin that such a thing was physically impossible, and was cut off when Gwen groaned. "Come on, guys, don't drag me into this. You can harass each other all you want once we land in one piece."

"That's enough joking around until we're on the ground," Grandpa Max cut in, wagging his finger in a mock attempt at lecturing them. He looked at Ben and his expression softened. "You ready to get home, kiddo?"

Ben's smile fell. He risked looking back out the window and there was the Earth, impossibly huge and growing even bigger. The cabin was starting to shake and there was fire on the outside of the ship as they reentered the atmosphere. All he could see was the ground rushing up to greet him and he was desperate for it.

"Yeah," he said, so softly that he didn't think Grandpa had heard him. "It feels good."

It didn't take very long to land. Speeding through the atmosphere, Kevin only leveled out at normal cruising altitude for airplanes and headed directly toward Bellwood. The view of cities sprouting up out of the ground, looking small enough to be crushed with Ben's thumb, always knocked the breath out of him. It was nothing like looking at the Earth from so far away, but it had the same feeling. Like Ben was the one who was tiny and he could never wrap his mind around the enormity of the specks that would become buildings once they landed.

"Alright, I'm taking her down. Brace yourselves if you have to," Kevin said. Without waiting for anyone to acknowledge him, he suddenly tipped the Rustbucket forward sharply, until Ben would have been sliding out of his seat were it not for the belt around his waist.

Despite himself, he laughed. Gwen was lecturing Kevin about fooling around, but he couldn't care less. It was amazing to be back with them, to have his friends driving him crazy and smothering him with concern. If he hadn't been around them, Ben would have cried, he had missed them so much that his chest still ached like crazy.

The turbulence was the worst right before they landed and the ship jolted so badly that Ben nearly bit his tongue and his teeth clashed together painfully, making his jaw ache. The plane skipped off of the ground as it went shooting down Kevin's personal runway and they decelerated hard enough to give Ben whiplash. It was everything that he had missed since Kevin and Gwen moved away.

"Is my car parked out there?" Ben asked as he got to his feet, barely even waiting for the ship to stop. He stumbled on his feet when it finally did, though Gwen caught him from her seat. He barely acknowledged it, already eager to have the bay doors open so he could deploy that platform and get back onto firm ground. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate getting a ride but, uh, there's sort of somewhere that I really want to be right now. And it might be awkward with all of you there."

Before he could attempt and fail to explain himself any further, Grandpa chuckled. "I know what you mean, Ben. Why don't you head out? We'll give you a minute to get a headstart." He threw in a wink.

That still didn't answer Ben's question of where his car was but, assuming it had been brought to Kevin's lot, Ben nodded and grinned. "See you all of you soon," he said with a mock salute. Turning around, he sprinted out of the cabin and to the doors that would let out as soon as the platform lowered. His lungs were aching for fresh air.

The door couldn't open fast enough but, after a few heart-pounding seconds, Ben heard the platform touch the dirt and they slid open. He immediately darted out and was hit by a gust of warm air. A breeze sent his hair into his face and it felt so good to be beneath a blue sky again that Ben almost cried. He would have, had he not been interrupted by a shout of his name, though not from inside of the ship.

"Ben!" Sandra ran up to the base of the lowered platform, a grin on her face and tears in her eyes. Carl was right behind her, his laughter making Ben's heart squeeze.

"Mom! Dad!" Ben was grinning so hard that his face hurt. He sprinted down the platform, nearly falling flat on his face, and collapsed into his parents' embrace. His good hand clutched at the back of his dad's shirt and Ben was nearly lifted off his feet with the force of which they hugged him.

"Ben… We missed you so much," Carl muttered against the top of his head. "When you didn't come home on time, we were so worried. It's amazing to have you back."

"You're okay. You're safe now, sweetheart." Sandra ran a hand through his hair and Ben choked on a whimper, pressing as close to them as he could. His parents smelled like their house, laundry detergent and the incense his mom had started burning just before his trip.

"I know," he said quietly. "I missed you both… I love you." Ben got his peranite arm up around his mom's back and, without even really thinking about it, he felt his fingers twitch to hold her. He almost broke down again but held himself tall, firm and unyielding in their arms.

How had Grandpa Max known exactly what he needed? Of all the places on Earth that Ben wanted to be, this was it. The location didn't matter, as long as he had his parents supporting him and his friends behind him, always.

It felt like home.

A/N: Writing this hasn't always been easy. I've had many points in the last year where I thought I would give up, either due to general depressive episodes, mounting stress with my studies and other projects, or just a lack of feedback that convinced me it wasn't worth posting anymore. I know this won't be my most popular fic or probably even a very well-known one in the Ben 10 fandom, but this project has been so fulfilling to me, personally, and I hope it left an impact on anyone who got this far. It's been an absolute delight. When I first started, I had no idea that DAF would get this long! It was originally only going to be the length of the first act but I'm glad it wasn't.

I'm still planning to have a short Ben/Rook twoshot continuation of this fic, taking place five years after this epilogue, so look forward to that in a week or two! Other than that...

DAF is officially done!

(I've waited a year to say that. Goddamn, haha.)