A/N: I haven't given up the other story, just that my life is going to be crazily busy the next couple of weeks, and I won't have time to write longer chapters with a more complicated story line.

This is going to be just a series of thoughts and emotions that the Mason brothers experience during the three months their father is missing. It really doesn't have a plot, though time will unfold chronologically. It's mostly from Hal and Ben's POV and sometimes Matt.

This is going to be really open, if any of you have something you would like me to write in regard to the brothers then let me know and I'll try to write it. Each chapter will be contained within itself, exploring an emotion whether it's fear, anger, rage, concern, grief, remorse, shame and you get the gist.

Enjoy!

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Chapter One. Metamorphosis

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Ben is running as fast as he can. Racing through the forest, effortlessly moving through the trees as if they are not even there. Despite it being dark, a full moon offers much light. Not that Ben needs it. His vision has never been more heightened.

Captain Weaver's face appears before him, battered, tired and sad.

'Ben … you're father … gone … spaceship … to save you. I tried to stop him. When they told him that you were not free of the harness process … Tom … your dad; he went with them.'

Free! 'I'm not free?!" WHAT … DOES … THAT … MEAN! "What do they want with my DAD?!

How dare they take his dad! Was not harnessing him, robbing him of his free will … was it not enough?! They are monsters!

He grips the dagger tightly in his hand as he spies the Skitter in the distance. A desire to kill overwhelms him. Ben launches himself at the six legged creature.

Taken completely unaware, the Skitter has no chance in responding. Such is Ben's rage that he descends with brutal ferocity. He just wants to kill it, kill all of them, for as long as he can, however long that takes.

Angry, hate filled tears blur his vision.

One day, he was just Ben. The geeky, book loving boy that hated any form of physical exercise. 'Pudgy', Hal used to tease. Not that he was ever overweight, just he had a chubby face, and his muscles were soft from inexertion. And because Hal was a jerk that liked to tease him. The only stress that existed in his life then was whether he got the top mark for maths in his year group. Because if Joey were to beat him … damn, that didn't even bear thinking about. Joey had the biggest ego. Nerds and geeks had egos just as much as the jocks sometimes, just their egos revolved around different things, like who had the highest mark.

Ben doesn't know that boy anymore. He stabs the dagger under the chin of the Skitter as hard as he can. Egos no longer matter. He can hear the crunch of bones, blood splatters down his hands and arms.

"You think," he chokes, "You can just do this to me!"

The Skitter falls to the ground, but Ben isn't done with it. He brings the dagger down on its head, piecing the skull.

"You think," he continues, bringing the dagger down again and again. "You can take everyone I love from me!"

Black Skitter blood splashes all over his face, but he doesn't care. He just wants to kill. All he knows in this moment is hate.

"Ben!" calls a distant, distorted voice. "Ben. Ben. Stop. Ben!"

The voice finally penetrates the rage of red hot fury surrounding him. Stopping, he looks up to see Hal. And not just Hal, but Captain Weaver, Jimmy, a group of second mass soldiers. Half a dozen torches are pointed at him.

He sees the horror on their faces as angry tears continue to roll down his cheeks. Some stand with mouths open in shock. Some avert their gazes as if he is some aberration of nature, not natural, not normal.

"What are you doing, son?" Captain Weaver speaks in a calm voice. "Just put down the knife. The Skitter is well and truly dead."

Hal slowly approaches him. A look of shock and confusion mirrored in his eyes. Who are you? What have you become? Where is Ben, where is the nerdy brother I used to know?

"Ben," Hal begins, his eyes shifting to the dead Skitter on the ground. "It's … just tell me you are okay?"

Drawing in deep ragged breaths, Ben nods. He feels much better now. It's all beginning to make sense. This is what he is destined to do. Kill.

"I'm okay."

Hal doesn't look convinced, neither does Captain Weaver.

"Hell, I'm impressed," Pope speaks up, emerging from the group of soldiers. "Give the Razorback kid a gun and let him come hunting Skitters with us."

"I didn't ask for your input," Captain Weaver returns.

"Right, excuse me, forgot he was a precious Mason kid," Pope mutters.

For the first time, Ben agrees with Pope. He's not precious. There is no place for kids in this world. He isn't a kid anymore.

"I want to fight."

Captain Weaver's worried gaze meets with his. "I know you're upset and angry, Ben. You have every right to be."

Ben clenches his hands tightly, the adrenalin still coursing through him. The spikes hum, as they do when he feels strong emotion, reminding him of his alienation from being human. They are changing him, turning him into something that he fears. It keeps him awake at nights.

If they did this to him, what are the Espheni going to do to his dad? This thought terrifies him more than the changes taking place to his body.

"I'm serious, Sir. I need to do something. I need a distraction."

Captain Weaver pats his shoulder, his expression is sympathetic. "We'll discuss it later. Now return back to base and clean yourself up."

He turns and addresses the soldiers. "Return to camp, get some sleep. We move out at first light."

Ben trudges back to the school, feeling numb. Which is a change. After Caption Weaver told him about his dad, all Ben has felt is rage. It's still there, simmering away beneath the surface.

Hearing someone fall in step behind him, Ben already knows that it is Hal.

"So, you want to play soldier," he speaks.

Ben hears the question in Hal's voice. You, the kid that couldn't even bring himself to harm a fly.

"I hadn't seen that coming," Hal continues. "Or the way you so viciously killed that Skitter."

"I .. was angry. I don't want to talk about it," he replies, wishing Hal would just leave him alone.

"You moved so quickly, like you have this super speed and strength."

Would he just shut up! Ben ignores him.

"It's from the spikes, isn't it?"

Ben quickens his pace, Hal jogs to keep up. He shoots an angry glare at his brother.

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"I just want to help. I'm trying to understand here, Ben?"

He turns so suddenly, forcing Hal to step back.

"Don't!" he yells. "You could never understand!"

Hal holds up his hands, much like trying to settle a skittish horse.

"Okay. Okay. I don't understand what you're going through. But I can see you're scared, and especially now that dad is gone, and we don't know what is happening to him."

Hal rakes a trembling hand through his hair. "We need to look out for each other. Dad would want that."

Ben sees the raw naked emotion in Hal's eyes. He tears his gaze away, not wanting to feel, it hurt too much.

"Dad is gone," he quietly murmurs. "You are not him. You can't help me."

Hal falls silent. He looks like he wants to speak, but is holding back.

Ben's shoulders feel rigid, his whole body is tensed up. He looks down at his hands, covered in black blood. Childhood innocence, that's what he's now lost. Touching his face, it feels sticky. He fingers his hair, caked in black goo.

He feels tainted; dirty. He finds himself longing for a shower, wants to wash the filth off his body.

Turning abruptly, he begins to run back to the base.

This time Hal doesn't follow.

Ben rushes inside the school, down the corridor to the bathroom. People stop and stare at him. He ignores them. He's had plenty of practice at it. It used to bother him. Now it means nothing.

Locking the bathroom door behind him, Ben turns on the shower taps. He can't stop trembling. Struggling to strip himself of his clothes, he swears under his breath. He has to get clean. Now! Like right now.

Finally, he's free and steps under the cold water. Grabbing the soap, he scrubs every part of himself, every square inch in his haste to free his skin of contaminated Skitter blood. His fingers catch on the spikes. He feels the hardened skin, knows it's changing. He often saw the worried glances his dad and Anne sometimes exchanged when they didn't think he was looking. He always knew it was about him, what he might become.

Stepping out of the shower, Ben dries himself off and wraps the towel around his waist. Approaching the mirror, he stares for a long, hard, silent moment at his own reflection.

He fingers his too shaggy hair. It makes him look young, a kid. The boy has to go. The world he once knew no longer exists. Spying electric hair clippers on the bench, Ben picks them up, flips the setting to a number four. Staring resolutely back at his reflection, he switches it on. Not like there will be any generated electricity once on the road, least not for minor things like charging hair clippers, he might as well do this now.

Ben doesn't blink as his hair falls to the ground in clumps. He knows this is the day everything changes.

It is time to fight, time to kill … time to become a soldier.

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A/N: Would you like me to continue with this? If so send a review! I love feedback in any shape or form. As mentioned at the start, if you would like me to write a particular scene between the brothers let me know and I'll try to oblige.

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