Ben's POV

Inspired by the newest episode. I don't own Ben Ten

You know, sometimes when my friends think I'm out of earshot they talk about me. They complain about my attitude and lack of compassion towards whatever is going on that week, and I hear it all. They call me stupid, cruel, arrogant, a jerk, moronic. And heartless. Always heartless. They think I don't care, that I'm naturally an egotistical person that always believes in the triumph of good.

But I don't.

I'm not brave, and I'm not stupid either. Every battle, every threat scares me. But I'm not heartless, and I'm not cruel. I don't fear my own demise, no, never my own. Always I see them, Kevin and Gwen, rush into fights with me, watching my back as I use my Ultamatrix to fight the new foe, and always they get strained, pushed over the edge, and hurt. Always hurt. Kevin always gets smashed into buildings, cars, the road, and though he has his armor I know it hurts. I see him wince as he gets up that first time, and sometimes he has a slight limp that he thinks I never notice. Gwen often over exerts herself and falls unconscious in the middle of a battle. The bags under her eyes and the temporary memory loss she gets the next day doesn't escape my sight.

And it frightens me.

What will happen that one battle that can't be won with luck? After I'm dead and the enemy lives? Earth should be fine, the plumbers make sure of that, but what about my friends. Kevin and Gwen may act like they don't care, but friends are supposed to protect each other, right? When I'm gone will they fight that unbeatable villain and go down with me? Or worse yet will they fall before I do and die before my eyes? What happens then?

Ever since we've started fighting together I've had dreams where I'm down and can't help them. Gwen falls first, crushed by a large metallic fist of the robotic alien we always fight. Kevin goes down yelling for Gwen, shouting at me to get up, but he goes next when his armor is melted by a hot laser. Always I wake up screaming, hearing both of their shouts of agony echo in my head. And every time they get hurt or let out a yelp while we're fighting I zone out for a moment while my head replays my dream for the millionth time since we were once again dragged into this business.

I can't take them getting hurt, them dying because of me, for me. So when they come to me with a problem, or we find a foe that I think would be difficult to defeat I'll become cocky. I'll annoy them and make them hate me. Make them leave and never come back. Only then can they be truly safe from harm.

So when I overhear their conversations about me, their aggravation, I can't help but smile. The cruel words only mean that I'm closer to my goal of them leaving, leaving and never coming back. Leaving this dangerous and terrible trade.

And then, when I do meet my demise, I can die happy knowing that they're both alive and safe.