A Question of Humanity
It's a feeling of being on the top of the world. That's what fame was. When he got there where everybody needed to look up just to see him, it was great. He was sure he wasn't the only one interested in the glory associated to his line of work.
That was the thing, though. Being special the way that he was meant that very few people actually understood. His line of work was, heh, alienating. While celebrities probably felt the same separation from the rest of the populace, they were still inherently human. Not that he wasn't. He was sure he could just take the device off and he would be just as human as the rest of them. Kinda.
Then again if he subscribed to the idea that the Ultimatrix and him could truly be separated by physically doing so, would mean that he was deluding himself badly enough to make things easier. Just because he wasn't like Gwen or Kevin who actually did have their alien ancestry ingrained into their DNA, didn't mean that he didn't feel the same hybrid mentality.
Once upon a time, after taking off the Omnitrix for a long while, he was able to define himself outside of the actions he did with that thing. Now he was back, partners-in-crime with the device that was a cocky, malfunctioning, irritating piece of junk that he couldn't separate from himself. Ever. Not really. He was so dependent on its abilities and its accomplishments to really be convinced he could do anything without it. So if he was at all honest, he'd say Ben Tennyson and Omnitrix/Ultimatrix/Whatever were practically synonymous.
That was just twisted, wasn't it? All the issues of having alien transformations/ancestry stuck. It would have been heady to be caught up in the power. He was sure what it would be like if he'd stopped trying to relate altogether; isn't that right, Kevin? The thing was he was so determined to ground himself, to convince himself he was normal, so that he could function in daily life.
He wondered how Gwen dealt with it. But she was always right, you know? It was like the world was molding perfectly in her version of a life he couldn't imagine that she was going through the same confusion. She probably had it all worked out while he just stumbled his way through life. But maybe he was being unfair. After all, she was really the first one to understand.
Since their lives were constantly in danger together, they had to hold on to one another to keep from dying. Once upon a time, he just couldn't stand her. Anybody would understand anyway. She was always there to take the glory, being a perfect little know-it-all and even taking the limelight on his important day by even having the same birthday. Then by sheer force of luck or fate, she was also there during the summer he found the Omnitrix. Ever since, he began hating her less.
The best summer of his life introduced that device to him, attracted all the adventure in his general direction. At first, it was just exciting. He just dove into it, fighting bad guys while adrenaline raged through his veins without really thinking beyond, "This is so cool!" Things happened that put all of what mattered to him in sharp focus. It wasn't about the adrenaline anymore. He had to turn his back on fun when lives were at stake.
"A money train loaded with cash comes down this track so when it crashes into the oncoming passenger train: boom! Instant jackpot."
His eyes widened. Ice ran down his back. He stopped really listening after those words were said. "But hundreds of innocent people will be killed," he said in his naivety. No way. This was endgame. He wasn't playing the way Kevin was.
He had to prioritize. He had to realize that when things were going haywire, the fun of the Omnitrix wasn't fun anymore.
"Going hero!"
"Ben, no! The self destruct will accelerate!"
"I don't care!"
It gave him the ability to see that it wasn't just about him.
"I've come too far! I've lost too much to be stopped now!"
The situation told him that everyone he ever cared about could very well leave him simply by living in the shadow of that device. It destroyed whatever halo of idealism regarding the watch he may have had. It was a weapon. He was able to understand the consequences of treating his position lightly. He was able to understand death.
"Stop them, Ben. These xenocites must be destroyed… Go!"
"What are you gonna do?"
"What I have to."
Maybe it was self-protective, the idea of separating certain things about himself. He needed it when there were too many things happening; too many surprises in his life cropping up; too many demands that even the most powerful weapon in the universe couldn't live up to. The best way to live with it was to either go mad or subconsciously manage his existence separately. He could sit down, stretch and relax on one hand, or he could put his entire body and mind into alert mode. He did it so seamlessly, he didn't even notice he was doing it.
So if he switched between certain ways of thinking, things got relatively simpler. He didn't have to dwell too long about his responsibilities as a hero past the time required for it. There was Ben whose main concern was about if he passed Physics or not, making sure he was up to date with Calculus and keeping conditioned for the next soccer game. There was Ben Tennyson, savior of the whole entire Universe, the champion of the Highbreed War, conqueror of Vilgax, alien hero.
Saving people was his calling alright. It just came naturally to him, regardless of whether he had the ability then or not. He got in trouble for standing up to bullies and helping the bullied, because he was also classified under 'the bullied'. He was kinda useless.
When the Omnitrix happened, it was the most mazing thing to finally put his money where his mouth is. He was kicking butt and taking names. He was also being kicked down by failures, inability to save certain people and the realization that the hero stuff was a thankless job.
It was probably the most ego-inflating reward to finally get the world to know his name. Though he wasn't exactly ill-equipped in the ego part in the first place.
The ego part that was actually a scared, frustrated and stressed out boy who resorted to being a complete jackass just to throw people off of the real thing. It was a good distraction to keep people from looking too closely at his growing fears about an increasing responsibility. He protected himself in ego so that nobody could take him down when he really needed to step up to the plate.
"Maybe that's too much to have in your head when you have to win. Maybe if I pretend everything's a big joke, when the time comes, I'll be able to do what I have to do."
"Is that why you're so arrogant all the time? Because you're scared?"
No, because shut up. Kid him was so annoying, but that time really took the cake. Was that really necessary? No, it wasn't. He didn't need to open his mouth and tell everyone in the world just exactly how much he sucked at the responsibility stuff when it really mattered. Like he could never really take the plunge if the situation finally arrived.
"No, most of the time I'm actually oblivious."
He had hoped it would be enough to salvage whatever of his dignity after the kid's slip up. Why did he have to clean up everyone's mess? Even his own!
It was just so demanding that maybe he just needed a break. It was like the world couldn't leave him well enough alone. True to its usual nature, it all boiled over into his biggest nightmare. When he was ten, he was scared out of his wits of Kevin. He had absorbed the Omnitrix's powers and mutated into a jumble of a monster. The vendetta Kevin had against him just made the mental image worse. Kevin was so completely off the rails and targeting him so low barely anyone could compare. An older, more powerful version of that guy, able to beat his then nightmare in Aggregor without batting an eyelash, and his nerves were frayed.
His mind panicked, his heart was beaten into a pulp in dejection that Kevin couldn't remember any of their friendship past the power hunger, his body morphing all fear into aggression and anger. Grieving but hopeful like Gwen did wasn't of any use to beat someone that powerful. He needed more in his arsenal than threadbare hope. So he resorted to righteous anger, encasing all the grief and fear inside that ball.
He lost hope altogether. Nothing was going right lately anyway. This was going to be another one of his major screw-ups if he didn't have the strength to take that option. An option he never wanted in the first place anyway.
But that was being a hero was like. It was like entrapment. He didn't have the option of selfish. He had only one option: saving people. That was his then mistake. He had forgotten that Kevin was one of those people; he was just too damned scared of Kevin and what he could do. He had, at that point, believed that it was one life over the many. If he had to choose between the universe and his best friend, it seemed like the sensible decision. He wasn't wrong. But he wasn't right either.
But he couldn't anyway. His heart wasn't in it and he was trying to put off doing so when it finally came to that point. It was like a part of him still remembered that Kevin wasn't a separate piece from the rest of the Universe. Along with Gwen, Grandpa, his parent; Kevin was part of everyone, even though he had become a threat to them. In the end, he trusted the hesitation in his heart, he trusted Gwen. He was able to take the third option: to save both the Universe and his best friend.
Maybe his know-it-all cousin really just did know it all. He wanted that certainty and he remembered vaguely standing by that, despite everything. Things had changed though. He didn't know the factor that changed it but it could have been anything.
Maybe it had all been the doubt that had piled up ever since becoming a big name in the public. He was suddenly special - which he had been thankful for at the start but realized that looking the gift horse in the mouth was the dumbest thing in the world. Suddenly all eyes were on him. Every step was niggled at, looked at, criticized.
Take Will Harangue's trashy news on cable, for example. He was ratings galore on the channel, but for all the wrong reasons. He was bagged everyday, questioned and looked at as a villain instead of a hero. For all his annoyance and dismissal of the show, it made him question himself too. It made him want to tip-toe around things, deliberate on decisions more than he really had to, just because there was an audience looking down at him.
Other people loved him and pestered him and wouldn't leave him alone to his privacy. Other people hated him and regarded him as something to fear. Either way, he was screwed over.
He was just so tired of it, sick of all the sycophants and the bashers. Sick of all the observation because he just couldn't do things without someone saying something about it. It just made him feel less of a person because he couldn't be given the stuff that other people have: going on a date with his girlfriend without a microphone and a camera suddenly appear out of nowhere, having a smoothy without fans suddenly crowding and hounding him, no more discreet alien fighting or discreet anything because it will appear on Harangue Nation anyway.
He couldn't be faulted for being blinded in all the lights the start. It was awesome. It was like finally people paid attention instead of being just another loser. They loved him, they hated him, but either way, they were there taking notice.
But he had forgotten until somebody brought things into sharp focus. And what do you know, it was his personal real life hero. Not Kangaroo Commando. Captain Nemesis. Yeah, he was a total nerd but the guy was the best. Until he got the slap in the face that made him realize this guy wasn't being a hero, he was being an entertainer with all the glories placed on the title of hero. That wasn't the point. It wasn't the point.
"It's not about fame! It's about helping people!"
He stopped being appreciative of the attention and had come to resent it. It didn't help that being placed on a pedestal made him naturally different from everybody. It was like he wasn't human anymore because they were either too busy praising him or too busy hating him. He wasn't a person. He was an incredibly dangerous alien weapon.
The thing was, feeling like himself under different faces wasn't easy. It was like telling himself that he was an apple when he looked like an orange. And he really liked apples.
Anyway, he felt the change during transformations. A little uncomfortable, but couldn't be classified under painful. It was just odd. Like walking in something else, being him without being him. A different height, different size, different composition, different abilities and strength. Being the water poured in the cup made him think he was the cup. There was only so much his mind could preserve when his entire body had changed.
If people stopped thinking of him as human, and he was having trouble reconciling the changes in his own head, what was going to happen? Him.
Okay, so he wasn't the sanest person on the planet, but who was? It still didn't stop the question of his humanity. Point was every single one of the aliens, named and affecting him a little with their own instincts despite his own mind, was just something else now. He wasn't him.
It was hard to walk around in public completely exposed, being all you. It's kinda like walking around naked, except heck of a lot less funny. Because people would find out you were weak and could take you down. It was the worst knowing that for all the hero stuff, it was still impossible to deny being a fleshy, normal human.
When you walk around with masks to cloth yourself, to armor up, it was hard to tell the difference between the face and the mask. For all you know your face was the mask.
He liked being human, but he was also scared of it. He liked the Omnitrix but he was also scared of it. He was starting to feel less like himself. More abnormal than he normally was.
…Maybe he was just going through puberty. A little bit late, though.
The fun bit was that it hadn't really hurt him. Having an identity crisis or compartmentalizing his problems in neat little boxes sort of helped and weren't making dents on how he went about things. Much. He was hoping it stayed innocuous. He wouldn't be able to deal with another blow to his already battered life. Not after his constant losses against a megalomaniac Osmosian, his best friend's psychotic rampage, his strained relationship with his girlfriend, his childhood crush and her father's death in the hands of an alien swarm.
Being a hero had been physically, mentally and emotionally tiring but it had been the most rewarding this he had ever done in his life. Confusion about identities was probably just another one of those things to trade to keep doing a good job at what he did.
Every now and again though, maybe a little leeway should be given to smoothy breaks. That one thing he couldn't trade off. No paparazzi or crazy fans. Just him and smoothy. It would be nice.
Author's Notes: Reading too much of my old fics makes me want to finish them. XD
