Chapter 25: Desperate, Dangerous, Desolate

". . . I don't know what to do for him anymore."

"Dunno if there's anything to do, Gwen."

"He's going to work himself to death at this point. Did you see him yesterday? I mean really get a good look at him? He looks awful! He's got no color except the circles under his eyes. I swear he's stopped eating and I doubt he's gotten a decent night's sleep since Vilgax returned."

"Well, he has had nightmares. He told me so."

"Have you ever known him to be haunted like this before, though?"

"Only when he thinks he's responsible for crap other people pull and never this bad."

"But . . . he beat Vilgax."

"Again. Yeah. Sent him home in a basket. And he hasn't been shoving it down our throats like usual, too."

"I noticed. Annoying as it is, I'd rather have him doing that than all this brooding."

"I hear ya. Much as it drives me nuts, at least it means he's acting normal. For Tennyson."

"Has he talked to you?"

"Not much, and not about anything important."

"Has he been to DexLabs at all?"

"What, to see that ginger midget he's friends with?"

"I'm not any fonder of Dexter than you are but for Ben's sake can you please stop calling him names?"

"Ben?"

"Kevin Ethan Levin!"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop calling the little freak a little freak. And no, Ben hasn't been back that I know of. Why?"

"Well, he always eats when he's there, at least, and he feels safe enough to sleep. And . . . well, Dexter is a good friend to Ben."

"When he's not drooling over the Omnitrix or using your cousin as a guinea pig. I could do with some DexLabs right now. This roughing it crap on the front lines isn't exactly what any of us call fun. This is why I never wanted to be a Boy Scout. Camping sucks."

"No arguments from me."

"I'll tell you this much, Gwen – Ben's getting reckless. He's taking the fight to the Fusions, and he's going too far to do it. People are getting hurt trying to cover him when he pushes it to the limit. It's like he cares but . . . not about himself."

"He's desperate."

"Yeah."

"But why? I'm not marginalizing the invasion or his part in leading the fight, but . . . this is new. It's different. I can tell he's hurting. Hurting worse than I've ever seen and I'm so worried for him. I have no idea why and he won't talk to me."

"You want me to talk to him?"

"Oh, would you, Kevin?"

"Sure. Any idea of what I should say?"

"I wish I knew."

()()()()()()()()()()

"I'm worried about Ben. He's reckless and getting close to dangerous."

Mandy's entire response was a slight lift of her left eyebrow. "To whom?"

Nigel Uno frowned. He had expected a bit more reaction out of her, but what little Mandy offered was very telling to someone that knew her well and worked closely with her. He knew his complaint wasn't anything new, but he could also tell she was concerned. Though her motives revolved around beating back the Fusion invasion, Mandy valued the people under her because they were the tools she needed to achieve her goal. Right now her best tool was broken.

"Himself and my troops," snapped the leader of Sector V. "Have you seen the casualty numbers lately? They've increased fourteen percent in the last few weeks. Ben's refusal to back off when told is getting a lot of people hurt."

"It's also upped our success rate by twenty-two percent in that same amount of time."

He had been hoping she wouldn't throw that number at him. Number One folded his arms as he regarded Mandy's scowling face on the video screen before him.

"He's not obeying orders. He's throwing himself into the thick of things as if we can just call up and order another Ben Tennyson to lead our ground troops if he happens to get himself killed."

"He won't."

"I wish I had your confidence, Mandy. In the meantime, what am I supposed to do?"

Her gray eyes grew hard and even colder than usual. "Back him up."

"Are you mad?" barked the teenager.

"He's getting results, Number One. Good results. Yeah, people are getting hurt, but morale has never been higher now that people see we can win this."

"My troops are more anxious than happy. He's driving himself to the point of collapse and we may not be able to catch him when he falls!"

"What do you want me to do? Relieve him? I can't stop him. I don't know of anyone that might be able to make a difference except Dexter and right now he's in no shape to do anything but try to learn how to walk again."

"Order him to stand down."

"Trust me, he won't listen to me. He's got the most powerful weapon in the universe strapped to his wrist and who am I to stop him if he decides to use it in the middle of a war?"

"It's burning him up!"

"No," she said with authority. "He's doing that to himself."

"At least order him to carry his Null-Void with him in battle."

"I'll get his usual argument against it."

"Then can you have Dexter at least speak to him? Reason with him?"

"I tried. Twice. Utonium wouldn't let me near him or communicate with him. That tells me Dexter's already given it a shot."

"And the fact that Ben's a danger to himself and others tells me that he failed. Wonderful."

She drew a deep breath, as tired as he was. "Nigel, this is just one more event in this war. We have to deal with things as they happen."

"And when he screws up?"

"Try not to let that happen, Number One."

()()()()()()()()()()

Sitting alone on the edge of their temporary encampment outside of Hometown, Ben supposed this was what it was like to be heartsick. The pain in his heart and his head eclipsed his battered body by far. It was a feeling he wouldn't wish on anybody, but he strongly suspected he was far too late in his desire to spare the one person that deserved it the least.

Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of Dexter. It didn't help that so much of their equipment was manufactured by DexLabs, but more than that, it was the little things that jolted his memories and made him miserable above and beyond the discomforts and fears that accompanied the front lines of a war. Even when he needed attention for all the scrapes and bruises he was accumulating at a record pace, he avoided the medics because their white coats and purple latex gloves were too familiar for comfort. Pretending the showers were hot always brought him right back to the shower in Dexter's private rooms and standing under a waterfall of hot water as he rinsed his hair. He should have dragged Dexter in there with him, fully clothed or not. He wished he had, just to hear him sputter and gasp. Every mouthful of coffee was a reminder of drinking from Dexter's cup. The younger teen didn't take his coffee as sweet as Ben did, and he found himself using less sugar just because Dexter did, so he could remember the taste of stolen kisses. He would wake up from dreams so real that he looked for the redhead sleeping beside him, only to find himself cold and alone. His sense of desolation was complete, but in that overwhelming loneliness was the knowledge that in this wretched state, he was keeping Dexter safe. It was poor comfort for his aching heart, but the situation was of his own making and he would rather live with it than in a world without Dexter.

The only solace he had was battle. That was the only place Dexter could not follow (or could he? Did he still wait up for news whenever Ben was fighting?) That was the only place where he felt he was making any real difference to this war. He gave each conflict everything he had, sometimes even more than that. Nothing less would do. It wasn't a need to prove himself right to Utonium and Dexter. He needed to prove to himself he was right, but what was more, he needed to know Dexter would be safe from Vilgax's wrath. For that he would suffer any misery.

Was the Professor right, then? Was he doing this to protect himself and not Dexter? It didn't seem that way at all, but he could not dismiss the doubt. He leaned his elbows on his knees, staring at the muddy, leaf-strewn ground. Autumn was here in all its dreary, soggy glory. Ben sighed, realizing how terribly tired he was and how much he missed hearing from Dexter now and then and knowing what awaited him every time he returned to DexLabs.

The dried leaves rustled as someone approached and he looked up to see Blossom moving toward him, a small smile on her lips as he noticed her. Pretty and smart though she may be, Ben felt his heart fail a bit at the sight of Dexter's younger sister. He had seen the Powerpuff Girls once after returning from Black Rock Desert and he had been so far gone in shock that he barely remembered the meeting. Since then he had been actively avoiding the triplets, but he knew he was cornered.

"Hi, Ben," she said, looking so vibrant and warm in comparison to the bleak day. "Can I sit with you?"

"Sure thing," he replied, sliding over a little to make room for her. "Pull up some rock."

She sat down beside him and gave him a long look. "How have you been?"

"Hanging in there," he replied, dreading the moment she brought up Dexter. "Busy. How about you?"

Blossom shrugged a tiny bit. "The same, I guess. You look tired."

"I've had a lot to do."

"Maybe you should take a rest. You're wearing yourself out."

"So everyone keeps telling me. I have to keep going, Blossom. I can't stop."

"Why not?"

"I've built up momentum here. We're on the offensive. It's the only way to win."

"That doesn't mean that other people can't step up and lead, Ben."

He held up his left arm, displaying the Omnitrix. "Yeah, but other people don't wear one of these."

"At least take a little break. Everyone else does. You can't keep up this pace."

He smiled. "Sure I can."

The redhead smiled and nudged him with her elbow. "No you can't."

"Watch me," he answered, rocking to the side a bit.

"You're going to hit a brick wall."

He dismissed her worries with a playful wave. "Done that more times than I can count."

"Same here and it hurts every time."

They shared a brief laugh, and then she became serious again. "Why don't you come home with me for the weekend? You can sleep in a few days and I know Dexter would love to see you."

He stared at the ground again, fighting to control his voice. "I . . . I can't, Blossom."

Unaware of the pain she caused, the teenage girl softly begged, "Please, Ben. He's so terribly depressed. I've never seen him so unhappy. The physical therapy is really painful and the treatment to stop his growth makes him really snappish. I think not growing upsets him a lot more than he lets on. He was doing well with it for a little while. The Professor thinks he was working on a new project, but he either gave it up or finished it because now he's back to where he was a month ago. He's scheduled for surgery on his ankle tomorrow and then he's got to start trying to walk again. He misses you and . . . he could use a visit."

It seemed almost unfair to be told so much more about Dexter than the Boy Genius probably knew about Ben at this point. When finally he looked up again, Blossom was gazing at him with wide, pink eyes, and her expression was pleading.

"Did you two have an argument or some sort of misunderstanding, Ben?"

"No," he said softly, unwilling to explain any further. He rose and dusted off the seat of his pants. "I just can't come back now."

"I miss you, too," Blossom whispered as he walked away. He pretended not to hear and did not look back, afraid of what he might see in her face.