Outside of what Ben considered to be his "refuge," there was a cluster of what he was pretty sure were memories. It was kind of interesting, actually. Walls and doors and windows existed where they shouldn't, each of them giving way to a snap-shot from days that Ben could barely remember. And sometimes the cycling clips or single pictures floated around their heads, untethered, and were tingly and faint when Ben tried to run his hands through them. Each one, regardless of how the memory presented itself, sparked something in the back of his mind when he made contact.
Gwen kept him from wandering into them too deeply, but the thoughts remained. He touched a door handle as they walked and there was his first day of soccer practice when he was in highschool. Running his fingers along a blurry window pane summoned Christmas Eve when he was six, one of the few times it had ever snowed in Bellwood. Looping around his head, Ben brushed one of the wispy pictures and got an out-of-focus and muffled view of his mom looming over him, cooing at him in his crib. Things that Ben hadn't realized he'd forgotten became clearer and he thought that he could spend days just reliving them.
"Where do you think Murowa is going to be?" Gwen asked, breaking Ben from his thoughts. All for the better, though. It was his head, which meant that he would be the most easily distracted. Or, that was his theory, anyway. "You can go fully into these memories, you know. Not that you can interact with any of them, but… they could make good hiding spots, don't you think?"
Ben stopped walking, glancing over his shoulder. The old Mr. Smoothies had disappeared, swallowed up by the thick mist that coaxed him. He frowned. "Yeah, definitely. But don't worry about it. I know where she is." He gestured for Gwen to follow and kept walking.
"What do you mean? Where?" Gwen huffed, batting at a faint image that swam in front of her face. He wasn't sure if she saw any of the memories the same way that he did, but Ben wasn't about to ask. "And how are we supposed to find anything in here? It's a mess. Nothing in here is organized, Ben."
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah, okay. I'll take care of that next time I do spring cleaning, mom. Just relax. I know where everything is. It's… organized chaos."
Hopefully, Gwen didn't ask how he knew where everything was, because Ben had no idea. All he could say was that he had something of a map in his head and nothing that they ran into surprised him. His feet knew where they were going, even if his head didn't.
"Uh-huh." Gwen hummed skeptically. She put on a little burst of speed to hover next to Ben instead of behind him and, when she spoke again, there was a seriousness in her voice that made his smile fall. "Ben. Where is Murowa?"
Inwardly, Ben sighed. He had hoped that she wouldn't force him to tell, but after all that Gwen was dealing with to be next to him, she deserved at least the truth. "Like you said." His mouth felt dry and his tongue was heavy. "She's hiding in my memories. In the… the painful ones. Back there." Ben pointed ahead of them, to where the mist was the thickest and the ever-present light was dimmer.
He wasn't looking at her, so he didn't see what sort of face Gwen made, but Ben heard her hesitance. "The… painful ones?" She repeated.
Swallowing his discomfort, Ben forced himself to nod. "Yeah. I, uh, keep them back there. In that… general direction." He waved a hand toward it absently. "Do we really have to talk about this right now, Gwen?"
She made a noise of frustration, settling a hand on his shoulder. "Yes, Ben. We need to talk about this." But she took a deep breath and, though he still refused to look at her, her next words were softer. "I'm sorry. I didn't… I knew that there were things you kept to yourself, of course, but I didn't want to hear about them like this. I never wanted to be in a situation where you… where something forced your hand." Gently, Gwen cupped his face, tilting Ben's head up until they locked eyes. There was a sad smile tugging on her lips. "Whatever is back there, I don't want you to feel ashamed or believe that I'll think less of you for any of it."
Ben managed a tight smile in return. "Gwen, it's…" Fine? Okay? Alright? None of those were true. The honest answer was that Ben was dreading the thought of taking Gwen back there. He knew that he needed her help, her warmth to keep him aware, but that didn't mean that he liked it. Instead, he swallowed hard and sighed, shifting gears. "Just don't try talking about any of it while we're in there. This is all in the past, okay? I… I'm not saying that I want to talk about it, but we should definitely save that until we're back on Earth. And, really, I doubt that I ever would talk about this stuff if I wasn't forced to," he admitted with a grimace. "So if I'm going to be forced into it, I'm… glad that you're the one here with me."
They stared at each other for a moment. Ben had no idea if Anodites were capable of crying, but it looked like Gwen was trying. In the end, she said nothing and slipped her arms around his neck, giving Ben a tight hug that lasted far longer than it should have. They were short on time, it was urgent, but… Ben sighed gratefully, squeezing her back just as hard. Her mana body was palpable under him, not at all like the firmness of a human form, and instead of the scent of the strawberry conditioner she had been using since she was twelve, Ben got the buzzing of her warmth in his core. But it was still Gwen — and he was so glad to have her.
"Alright." Ben was the one to break the hug, begrudging though he was to pull away. "Let's go. The sooner we get in there, the sooner we get out."
Gwen said nothing. She took his hand, gave a squeeze, and that was answer enough.
Gripping her hand like a lifeline, Ben quickened his pace. Their destination never seemed to get any closer but, after a few minutes of silent walking, they had suddenly arrived. There was a sharp line between the good memories and the bad ones, where the mist seemed to hit a glass wall and become twice as thick on the other side. Ben stopped before he could cross the border, squinting in an attempt to peer ahead of them, but he couldn't see more than ten feet beyond. From his current position, he couldn't see any of the "painful" memories at all. There were no doors or windows or playful flickers. Behind the mist, there was nothing but inky blackness.
Hesitating, he gave Gwen a questioning look. Her only response was to shrug, so Ben reached forward and put his free hand over the barrier. It didn't feel menacing or worrisome, just cold. Sort of like he had stuck his hand into a cooler. The mist twisted around his fingers like it was attempting to weave as tightly to him as possible, but Ben felt nothing and it didn't try to cross the imaginary barrier.
It almost made him laugh. Had he really locked everything up that tightly?
"Well, there's no time like the present," Ben muttered. He gave Gwen a tug as he stepped forward and she plunged into the chill with him.
Immediately, the memories that Ben hadn't been able to see before were revealed to him. Images stretched to the horizon in every direction. It made Ben's head spin. He hadn't realized that there were so many things that he wanted — no, needed — to forget.
The window closest to them started to play, Ben's voice echoing through the dim. He chose not to listen to it, clenching his jaw and pulling Gwen along behind him. Unlike the other memories, these ones apparently didn't give him the option to block them out. The barrier had been Ben's only warning and he had come in anyway. He was only slightly comforted by the knowledge that he knew where Murowa would be, so he didn't need to pay attention to the other memories. That didn't make them any easier to ignore.
His eyes were drawn toward one against his better judgment. There he was, ten-years-old and small and battered and hopeless. He was on his knees, the cold of the ground leeching in through his pants and numbing his legs. He didn't care. The Florauna had gotten what they wanted and, with the Omnitrix still glowing orange at his wrist, all Ben could think about was Gwen. She had died. For him. Outloud, he said, very softly, "It should've been me." And he had never been more certain of anything in his life.
That time, Ben didn't have to wonder if Gwen saw the memories with the same intensity that he did. He heard her intake of breath, felt her grip on his hand turn crushing, and knew. He never wanted her to know these things, was content to pretend that they didn't exist, but apparently his luck had run out.
He hadn't been lying earlier. If he wasn't forced to, Ben would never let anyone know. The memories were locked away for a reason.
Ben picked up his pace, but it didn't matter. He was hit with another despite how he tried to block it out. Kevin was a monster, but he was also twelve-years-old. At eleven, Ben clutched at his hands tighter than he'd ever held anything, but it did no good. The screaming portal of the Null Void wrenched Kevin back inside and Ben would have guilt-infused nightmares for months after. He should have done better. He should have tried harder. He shouldn't have failed, but then his thoughts would skip to Feedback and, with a wince, Ben would get the sharp reminder that he couldn't do anything else anymore.
It would have been easier if Gwen was quiet and hurrying but, instead, she slowed and muttered, "Ben, you never told me that you felt that way about Kevin back then."
And she sounded surprised, so much so that Ben almost laughed. What had she expected? For him to carry on, life as usual, knowing that he'd once again failed someone that he so desperately wanted as a friend? He thought about snapping at her for it, but no. That would be a waste of time when all Ben wanted was to be done with it. He pulled at her hand until she resumed the same pace they'd had before.
He wasn't surprised when the next memory hit like a wave. It had become too much. What had started with Phil and Feedback and Kevin had become a downward spiral that Ben saw no way out of. He hated the Omnitrix, he hated attempting hero work, and most of all, he hated himself. "Take it," he begged Azmuth, on his knees in front of the Galvan with his left arm outstretched. He was barely twelve, but Grandpa had brought him anyway when he asked. He was in the other room to give them privacy, resigned to the choice that Ben was making. "I can't handle it anymore," he choked out, swallowing tears. The Omnitrix glinted innocently at his wrist. Azmuth's aged face relaxed into a pitying look. He nodded. At that moment, Ben knew that he had been understood, and that it was over.
By that point, Ben was running. He didn't care anymore. Gwen was trying to get his attention, but she didn't stop him, and for that, at least, he was grateful. All he knew was that he needed as much space between him and those memories as possible. Running didn't change anything for him.
He was thirteen and without the Omnitrix, but there was a man in an alley getting mugged. Mom hadn't been able to pick him up from school, so Ben had walked, when he saw another man pull a knife. He hadn't stopped to think, he'd just darted into the alley and smacked his bare wrist. For his trouble, he got a fist to the gut and a split lip from falling on his face. He told his parents that he tripped and they never needed to know about the bruise on his stomach that throbbed for a week. It made him sick. When would he be done playing the hero?
It was barely a few weeks after Ben's fourteenth birthday. Crouched in the hallway at just past midnight, he listened to his parents arguing. About him, of course, as it had been for a while. His grades were slipping, nothing higher than a C, and he had no hobbies or extracurriculars going for him. His mom was so worried, asking over and over what they could expect Ben to do with his future, and his dad never had an answer. It was a week later that Ben decided to try his hand at playing soccer. He hated it, at first, but it gave his parents something to be proud of. It had been a while since he had done that for them.
There he was, fifteen, with the Omnitrix at his wrist once again. It didn't matter. He was still a failure. He lost Grandpa Max anyway, watched him go up in an explosion that shook the Earth and was helpless to do anything to stop it. And, later, Grandpa would reveal himself to be alive, but that never stopped Ben from thinking about it. What if he hadn't gotten lucky? What if Grandpa had survived the explosion just to die in the Null Void? What if Ben hadn't been able to manage with him gone? The what ifs and paranoia staved off sleep for years, as if everything else didn't already contribute to that.
At sixteen, a wave of red-tinted light hit him like a bus. It hurt to swallow the scream of pain, but he managed, choking on his agony. For the split-second that it took to erase him from existence, he cursed Paradox, cursed the Omnitrix, cursed being the Prime Ben, cursed the universe and everything in it. He shot a look over his shoulder at the other version of him, innocent and wide-eyed and terrified. Ben had been that way, once. He subtly decoupled the Omnitrix and hoped that this version of him wasn't such a failure. "It's just a gadget! Be the hero!" Because, clearly, it wasn't Ben. And then there was blackness.
But, finally — finally — Ben was seventeen. He was strapped down to an examination table, manacles at his wrists and ankles and waist. He was gagged and had a throbbing headache, but all that he could think about was everyone he had left behind. Was Rook alright? Had he been kidnapped too? Ben could handle it. He had gone through it before. He didn't want Rook to be captured too but, worse, Ben didn't want to be alone either. But objects couldn't feel alone. The word "it" pounded through his head. As much as he fought it, some small part of him liked the freedom that came with no longer caring. Objects couldn't be failures.
The crystal on Ben's arm had crept up to his shoulder, chilling the left side of his torso like it had been dunked in ice. He didn't care.
There was Murowa, in the room where Ben had been kept prisoner, right where he knew she would be. He couldn't see her, but he knew the memory when he saw it. There was an uncomfortable churning in his gut when he gazed upon the snapshot of his empty cell that told him something about that memory was wrong. Tainted, by something beyond what his own head could have done.
Out of the marathon through the not-so-happy past, Ben dropped Gwen's hand. He didn't feel out of breath, despite how he had been sprinting. He felt like he had enough energy to run forever.
"Here. It's this one," Ben announced, pointing to the image in question. It was a small one, floating lazily above their heads without a door or window to serve as an anchor point. That was fine, though. Something told Ben that he could find a way inside of it regardless of how it was held.
Gwen set a hand on his shoulder and Ben grimaced. He didn't turn to look at her, but that didn't deter her. "We need to talk about what I saw in there," she said in that tone that meant there was no point in arguing. "Based on the state of this place, you've kept all of that locked up for a while. Ben…" She hesitated. "...did I do something to make you think that you can't come to me? That you can't trust me?"
That time, Ben actually did wince. He couldn't answer that. Really, he couldn't — Ben didn't know the answer. He just knew that he was supposed to be the hero. And heroes could handle anything. Everything in Ben's bad memories was nothing but an occupational hazard. He didn't know why Gwen was so insistent that he talked about it, or why it was supposed to be considered "traumatic." He didn't need medication or a therapist. Ben had handled everything else thrown at him over the years. He could tolerate some bad experiences.
To Gwen, he said, "I get that you're just worried about me, but this is literally the worst possible time to bring this up. You promised that you would keep this to yourself until we got out of here." Ben pointedly shrugged her hand off of his shoulder. He still refused to turn to her. "Are you with me or not?"
There was silence for a moment, but then Gwen sighed. She didn't touch him again, though the mana tendrils of her hair curled closer and Ben automatically relaxed as he felt the warmth. "Always," she muttered, and it sounded like an oath instead of a confirmation.
Surprised, Ben finally twisted around to look at her. Gwen's only response was a grim, thin-lipped smile. He managed to return it. "Alright. Then let's do this."
Taking a deep breath, Ben grabbed the image that called to him. Instead of passing his fingers through it, he willed himself deeper and watched his hand sink into the surface, rippling like water. Gwen didn't need an invitation. She did the same thing next to him and, together, they pushed their way into the memory. It felt like pushing against plastic wrap, but eventually, the barrier broke and both of them stumbled right into it. Though, in Ben's opinion, it wasn't much of a memory.
It was a snap-shot, a single instant in time where he had seen the room for the first time and it was still empty and unthreatening. The white walls rose high above his head, the examination table innocently placed in the center of the room. Even the desks next to it were empty. It would take Murowa a few days to cover the surface with her research.
Speaking of which…
"Must we always do this the hard way, Ben?" Murowa's voice echoed from nowhere. "Why don't I cut you a deal? Have your little Anodite friend leave and we can settle this on our own terms. I know you want it gone just as badly as I do."
And, like she knew it would, the word "it" made Ben wince. Hearing it in reference to himself was bad enough, but to hear it being said about his cousin? His hands curled into fists and Ben was itching to hit the Omnitrix. He wished that it was on his wrist. "You don't know anything about me!" He snapped back at nothing. His eyes roamed the room for any sign of Murowa, but Ben didn't see her. To Gwen, he muttered, "Can you sense her nearby?"
Faintly, Ben saw her white eyes glowing a harsh magenta, but then Gwen frowned and shook her head. "Not well enough to pinpoint her location," she admitted. "It's different inside of the consciousness. Nemuinas have too much control here."
Of course they did. Ben grimaced. He rarely used Pesky Dust, and now he regretted it. Whenever he was in someone's mind, it never worked the way that it was now. But why?
Deep down, Ben knew the answer. He refused to admit it to himself.
He almost got an idea, but before any sort of strategy could finalize in his head, a flicker of movement caught his attention. Ben went tense, biting down a shout of Gwen's name as he yanked her out of the way in time for a burst of energy to cut through where she had been standing. The air sizzled from the heat and, on edge, Ben frantically searched the room for Murowa. It was a smooth cylinder — there shouldn't have been anywhere for her to hide.
"Why is she going for you, Gwen?" Ben asked. He fell against his cousin naturally, pressed back-to-back, both of them readily poised for a fight. There was another burst of energy at Gwen from the side that she blocked with a mana shield, giving a grunt of effort. "Did you do something to piss her off while I was out of it? And here I thought I was Murowa's target. I'm a little jealous."
Gwen said nothing at first, but Ben could feel her smirk. "I invited myself in. She can't remove me because all of her control still doesn't change the fact that this isn't her head. And as long as I'm here, I'm giving you the energy you need to fight her. Of course she wants me gone. You would probably be absorbed into her little illusions by now if it weren't for my mana."
That hadn't been the answer that Ben was expecting. He faltered, shooting Gwen a surprised look. "I didn't know that you could do that."
She returned his questioning stare with a half-shrug and a smile. "It's because of how similar our mana is. We're family, Ben. I won't—" She cut herself off, twisting around to shove him to the ground with a shout of, "Look out!" Ben hit the floor with a grunt, feeling the air ripple with heat above his head as an energy beam shot out of nowhere and struck Gwen in the chest.
To his horror, her form began to flicker in and out of visibility. Stumbling to her feet, Gwen pawed at her chest, where a gaping hole carved out clear to the other side. Their eyes locked, but that was the only warning that Ben got before Gwen's body shimmered and disappeared.
The cold was biting. Ben felt something jab his neck and didn't need to look in order to know that the crystals had once again grown. His entire left arm was dead. Before, Gwen had been trying to get him to move it, but Ben couldn't remember why. It seemed pretty clear to him that the exercise was pointless.
And growing more pointless by the second, it seemed.
Behind him came the fluttering of fairy wings. Ben didn't bother to turn. He stared blankly at where Gwen had been a moment ago. Logically, he knew that she was fine. It was just a projection of her energy that had been destroyed. That didn't change anything, though. She was gone, probably worried sick about him and weakened, thanks to the waste of energy that coming after him had been. And it was all Ben's—
No. It was all Murowa's fault.
He clenched his jaw, forcing his thoughts to stay grounded. "You're good," Ben muttered as he finally got to his feet. "I never once noticed you putting thoughts in my head. How long have you been doing that for?"
Murowa giggled. She flew in slow circles around Ben's head, making no move to touch him, her Omnitrix eye glinting proudly. "Since I first captured you, naturally. What gave it away?"
Ben shook his head slowly. Now that he was aware of it, he could feel her influence. Little threads of thought, planted specifically for him to trip upon it and come to the reasonable conclusion that they were his own. It felt like Ben had cobwebs in his head. He was never normally so moody and angry and miserable, but if that was her plan all along — to wear him down to nothing — then she was doing a better job than Ben had given her credit for. He glanced at his peranite arm. Of course that was her plan. It was so simple that he hadn't recognized it as a plan. Simple enough that it had gone right under his radar.
So spectacularly simple that it had almost worked.
It took a physical effort to shove her influence out of the way. Ben strained for a moment, then straightened his spine to glare at her. "I know how I think," he muttered. "You hurt Gwen. My first thought would never be blaming myself. My first thought is always finding out who did the hurting and making that person pay."
There was a dangerous gleam in Murowa's eye, not that it kept her from grinning. "And how do you plan to do that, Tennyson? Look around." She gestured widely at their surroundings. "You can't hurt me. This is my specialty. I control everything in here. And that includes you."
A smirk came to Ben's face. That was what solidified his thoughts: what made him know that he was going to win.
"You're always so overconfident," Ben shot back. "If you controlled me, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. But you, Argyle, Diavik — that's what all three of you have in common, isn't it? You had nothing and all you've ever known is struggling and clawing for control. For power. You've lied, cheated, stolen, killed. All so you can stand here and lose to me." He grinned. "Or am I reading this wrong?"
He had never seen Murowa so furious. She was humming like an angry hornet, gnashing her teeth in frustration. Her claws swiped forward and Ben automatically took a step back to avoid getting hit. "You don't know a thing about me!" She shrieked.
At the last moment, Ben grabbed his crystalized wrist and hefted his arm up to use as a shield. Murowa's claws scraped against the peranite with an awful, ear-grating screech. Ben didn't feel any pain, but when he looked down at his arm, blood was oozing in uneven lines from three ragged slashes.
"I know enough," Ben continued. Even as he talked, Murowa was trying to hit him, but he side-stepped and ducked, weaving with an elegance that he didn't know he had. "I knew that I would find you here. Even when you think you have control of everything in my head, you come to a place that makes you feel safe and powerful. Gwen kept telling me to stop taking things literally and I've finally figured out what I need to do." Abruptly, Ben stopped moving. He used his good hand to hold up his peranite arm, still dribbling blood onto the floor with no sign of stopping. "This is what you're trying to do to me. And it's working. But, if I can get the Omnitrix, I win. I get my head back and you're forced to leave."
For the moment, Murowa had finally decided to stop advancing. She hovered there with her arms folded over her chest, unamused. "Really?" She arched her brow bone. "Are you sure about that? I would hate for you to be wrong, Ben. All of that bravado and nothing substantial to back it up."
"You're forgetting something." Ben flexed his hand into a fist — not his human hand, but the crystallized one. His movements were delayed and jerky, but there nonetheless. Murowa blinked in surprise. There was only one way that she could have forced Gwen to leave. "I've been your species before. I know exactly how to turn this around. Because we're not just messing with my head, right?"
Her eyes widened, and that was what made Ben smirk. Murowa said nothing to him. For the first time since they had met, real fear flashed across her eyes and instead of a snarky response, she threw herself at him. Ben didn't even try to dodge. He held his crystallized arm up and caught her with ease. Unlike before, when she had been able to cut him, Murowa dug her claws in and was only rewarded with the ear-splitting noise of dragging her nails uselessly across crystal.
"Stop!" She snapped, trying to make it sound like a demand. "You can't do this to me! This is my domain!"
Ben shook his head. He didn't see Gwen anywhere, but he felt her. Warmth curled in his chest, settling against what he could only describe as his soul. Even weakened and unable to materialize, Gwen wasn't about to let him do this alone. The thought made Ben smile. "No. It's mine — it's always been mine. And you've overstayed your welcome."
His arm tingled as the peranite growth began to recede. Even as Murowa grew more and more frantic, spitting curses on his name, her claws scraped against his skin to no effect. The cut from before became smooth, unblemished skin. And there, positioned on his wrist, was the Omnitrix. The crystal sank into it and the red power-off mode that had haunted Ben in the real world was replaced by the chime of a successful recharge as it glowed green.
Immediately, Murowa let go of him. She jolted back several steps, reached up to feel her eye. The Omnitrix that she had stolen was still there, but as her fingers couched it, the faceplate cracked and the glow faded, becoming an ashen grey. It fell right out, core and all, leaving Murowa staring at him with one empty, smooth socket. Fear and anger battled for center stage on her face but, eventually, anger won out.
"I see now," she hissed, looking around. "We're not in your head anymore, Tennyson. How did you manage that?"
He didn't bother to answer. Murowa knew damn well how her own abilities worked and Ben, with his limited understanding based on what he remembered from his few times being a Nemuina, wasn't in a position to explain to her something that she already knew. She just didn't want to admit to herself what had happened. Her control had slipped not because of anything Ben had done, but because she had allowed it. That was the trade-off with Nemuinas — they could scramble someone's brain to mush from the inside-out, but if they let their resolve slip, the tables could just as easily be flipped. Every feeding was a struggle. No wonder, then, that Murowa preferred her walking-world hallucinations: even if it didn't benefit her, it was the only method of controlling someone that didn't put herself at risk.
"You don't want to hurt me," was all Ben said. Murowa's expression flickered with an emotion that he couldn't name, confirming what he had claimed. "At least, not as badly as you keep saying you do. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here."
"Here" being Murowa's head. Her control was slipping through her fingers like water.
She shook her head vehemently, snarling like a cornered animal. "No! I'm going to tear you apart, Tennyson! For Diavik! For— For…" Murowa didn't finish.
With a shrug, Ben reached for the Omnitrix. "And you can't take this away from me, either. I finally figured it out. No matter what you've been saying, it was never the Omnitrix that made me a hero." Ben smiled. "I would have found a way to be great without it. I have before and I always will. What it represents is a part of me — it's something that you can't just take away."
"No," Murowa repeated weakly. Her anger was fading and she stared into his eyes as though seeing Ben for the first time. "No, this isn't what I… you can't—!"
He didn't let her finish. Ben popped the Omnitrix core up and slammed it back down without making a selection. The sensation of a painless transformation washing over him felt indescribably good. His bones dissolved, his skin turning soft and gelatinous. Tendrils grew from his back to match his formless legs and arms. Instead of collapsing, Ben found himself floating as his body turned white and blue.
Being AmpFibian inside of someone's head, he was immediately struck by the sheer amount of electricity surrounding him. The brain never stopped pulsing, never stopped giving him information. He could taste the apprehension and fear. Murowa, silent though she was, was struggling to sever their connection. AmpFibian could feel her trying desperately. Had he possessed a mouth, he would have grinned.
"You like nightmares so much?" He crooned. "Welcome to yours."
She dodged his first blast of electricity, the currents of her thoughts jolting into a new gear as she did, but Murowa wasn't lucky enough to avoid the second. Instead of sending her flying, the hit made her hiss and recoil. Physically, Murowa looked unharmed, but the world around them shook as though in an earthquake. The metal walls of Ben's former prison groaned their protest.
"Stop!" Murowa clutched at her chest, gasping. "You don't know what that's going to do!"
Any further protests were cut off when AmpFibian suddenly darted in front of her, striking her with three of his tendrils like she was a fly. "I figure it's better than whatever you had in mind," he said.
Incensed, she hissed, probably getting ready to snap at Ben again. A bolt of electricity forced her to jump back in order to avoid it. Murowa threw herself at him, still trying to inflict damage, but without control over their surroundings, her claws bounced harmlessly off of AmpFibian's malleable skin. She even tried to bite him, to similar effect.
His body jerked as he released a torrent of energy and Murowa was flung back with a cry of pain, clutching her smoking mouth. The room quivered violently once more. Screws popped out and clattered to the ground. A panel from the ceiling crashed to the floor as a twisted heap between them, neither of them so much as blinking. To do so meant looking away from their opponent.
"You can't," Murowa panted, winded. "If you tear this place apart, I might not survive it." And the way that she said it, it was almost pleading.
For a moment, Ben did nothing. He knew what she meant — not that Ben was going to be killing her, but that by bringing down her safe haven, she would have nothing stable to retreat to in her head. Nowhere would be free of her own thoughts and especially not the painful ones.
But a moment was all that Ben allowed. AmpFibian's eyes narrowed. Had he been human, he would have been grimacing. "I guess, after all this, it's hard to feel bad for someone like you." He was lying through his teeth. Even as he raised his hands for the final blow, guilt burned hot and putrid in his chest, but Ben knew what would happen if he didn't finish it.
He never said that being a hero was easy — but that was his blessed burden to carry.
Around him, Amphibian drew from the electrical currents that formed Murowa's thoughts. He watched her complexion turn pale, fear freezing her in place. She didn't try to run. There was nowhere to go, anyway.
All six of his tendrils gathered electricity into their ends. He brought them together in front of him and, steadying himself, stared Murowa dead in the eye as AmpFibian hit her point-blank with a tremendous electrical explosion that knocked him back and sent the room shaking on its last threads. The walls crumbled down on top of them—
—and Ben woke up with a gasp. He choked on the deep breath he instinctively sucked in, putting a hand on his chest for support as he coughed and reoriented himself.
Next to him, there was a weak groan. Ben looked over at where Murowa was, still collapsed on the floor where she had been before sucking Ben into unconsciousness. She twitched, face creased in a grimace, but didn't open her eyes. After a moment, Murowa settled back down and Ben let out a sigh of relief. He was still trying to figure out what just happened. He didn't want to start another fight with Murowa. Despite what had been done, he got the feeling that she wouldn't sit quietly back and let herself be arrested.
Ben shook his head, stumbling to his feet. He never liked those instant transformations, where he didn't even really change back to human. It always left Ben disoriented, as he struggled for a few seconds to remember how his new body should function.
A crash from behind caused him to turn, ignoring the rush of vertigo. The sound of crystal shattering came from a hole in the floor, which surprised him. Were Argyle and Patience still fighting? How long had he been locked in his head with Murowa? It couldn't have been more than a few minutes.
He looked down at the Omnitrix and groaned. Still red. What was it going to take to get the damn thing functioning again? His hand was still peranite, but at least it wasn't up to his shoulder. He couldn't move it either, though.
Unable to use his powers and stuck in an area with two furious Petrosapiens wasn't an ideal way to wake up. Ben looked around frantically for something that he could use. His first instinct was to save Patience, but then he remembered what their plan had been before the interruption and he paused. Why would he need to save Patience at all if the idea had been to kill themselves?
He looked at the controls, left carefully untouched despite the fighting that shook the floor. Automatically, Ben darted over to them, but he couldn't bring himself to touch anything. After running into Gwen, he knew that she and the others were close. Possibly even closer than before, thanks to their interactions. Ben didn't know enough about mana to describe what had happened, but it was as though he could still feel Gwen even outside of his head. Her warmth was curled in his chest, a steady reminder that she was there, that she and the others were still looking. And Ben knew enough about space to know that stars were really big. Massively big. If he found a way to release the star, it was going to kill not only himself and everyone on the space station, but all of his friends and whatever Plumbers they had managed to get to back them up.
Could he do that? Making the decision for even Tetrax and Conway had left Ben wrought with guilt and second-guessing himself, but Gwen, Kevin, Rook…
No. Ben couldn't make that sacrifice. There had to be another way.
He squinted at the protective glass that kept back the worst of the star's heat. It looked like it was made out of reinforced peranite and probably coated in something to help reflect the light away. Ben held up his crystallized hand thoughtfully. Maybe he could…?
His thoughts were derailed as a tremor sent the ground bucking and Ben sprawled out on his knees with a grunt. Landing on his peranite arm sent shocks of pain down his spine and he had to clench his jaw to keep from crying out. He flipped himself around in time to watch the wall across from him burst open with the grating sound of steel being ripped in half. Argyle came after it, sprawled on his back and panting. At some point, the back of his Plumber suit had been torn open in the fight and the four peranite prongs that grew from his back were sticking out. They dug into the ground when Argyle landed, carving grooves into the floor as he skidded to an abrupt stop.
Seeing him, Ben froze. He smacked the Omnitrix instinctively, only for it to weakly beep at him, still stuck in recharge mode. Frantically, he looked around for something that he could use as a weapon. He doubted that a mug would have as much of an effect on Argyle as it did on Murowa, considering that the guy was made of the second-hardest material in the galaxy.
He looked up at the sound of running footsteps. So did Argyle, only he wasn't looking at Patience as she entered through the hole in the wall — he was staring at Ben. Hatred flashed in his eyes and that was Ben's only warning to duck as peranite shards cut through the air where his head had been a moment ago. Ben rolled with it, jumping back up to his feet and darting out of the way of another round of crystals.
Frustrated, Argyle clutched his hand into a fist and the ground beneath Ben's feet burst apart as peranite shards cut through the seams. He nearly impaled his foot on one of them but, at the last second, Patience reached out and forced the crystal to sink back into the ground.
Ben held himself still in the middle of the peranite surrounding him, watching anxiously. He really needed his own weapon. At least, for the moment, Argyle was ignoring him again.
"You're pathetic," he spat at Patience, dragging himself to his feet. The stump of his missing arm was dripping clear blood and a chunk of his left foot was in the process of reforming. Patience didn't look much better with her chin about ready to shatter and her suit ripped open at her side and dripping blood. "Wasting your time on that brat… You've always been weak, but I didn't think that you were stupid, too."
Patience snorted. "It's a little late for flattery, Argyle. You're the one who seems to be making an error in judgment. You've read his file, so you know as well as I do that it's pointless to try and kill him. It doesn't seem like a smart move on your part."
The conversation was quickly becoming one that Ben didn't want to be a part of. He had a sinking feeling in his gut that he knew where Argyle was going with that line of thought. Slowly, he backed up, stepping closer to where he had left Murowa unconscious. There had to at least be something he could use as a distraction…
Sure enough, Argyle smirked. "True. That doesn't mean that I can't hurt him."
There was a pause. They both lurched into motion at the same time and Ben instinctively turned and ran. He knew as soon as he started that it was hopeless, but he also wasn't going to just stand there and let it happen.
The ground in front of him ruptured, Ben skidding to a stop barely in time to keep himself from smacking into the rising peranite wall. He swung around, back pressed against it, and jumped to the side with a yelp as Argyle swung his fist for Ben's gut. It hit the wall with a crack and Argyle snarled in response. Patience was right behind him, but he had the head start. She jumped into the air, aiming a flying kick at her brother's head. Argyle ducked to dodge her, lashing out with his foot at the same time. He caught Ben around the ankle, yanking his legs out from under him and sending the teen to the floor on his chest with a pained grunt.
He twisted himself around onto his back, but before Ben could stand, Argyle planted his foot in his stomach. Had the air not been knocked from his lungs upon hitting the ground, the force that Argyle used would have finished the job. "How do you think he'll manage without one arm?" He shot at Patience, challenging her. His foot dug deeper into Ben's gut, causing him to gasp and squirm. Freezing in place, Patience bristled.
"Coward!" She hissed, though she didn't move to attack him. Patience had her fists up but didn't try to close the few feet of distance between them. "You're unable to beat me in a fair fight! You always have been!"
Argyle shrugged with one shoulder, still grinning. He raised his hand, melding it into a sword so fine that Ben couldn't see the edge. Pointedly, he lowered it to Ben's right arm, pressing the tip to the crease of his elbow. It drew a thin line of blood but the blade was sharp enough that Ben didn't feel it. "You've always been so predictable, Iridium."
Her expression twisted, ugly with fury. "Do not call me that!" Patience shrieked. She threw herself at Argyle. He didn't make a move to stop her, or even seem surprised, and that was when Ben knew.
Instead of hitting Argyle, Patience dropped at the last second and grabbed Ben by the shoulder. "Don't!" He tried to shout, but it was too late. She yanked him out from under Argyle's boot and sent him skidding across the floor, out of reach. "It's a trick!"
The words had barely passed Ben's lips when Argyle, without ever attempting to stop her, slammed his peranite sword down as hard as he could. It snapped right through Patience's suit and, with a defending crack, broke the skin of her back and burst out of her chest. The tip embedded itself in the floor, dripping blood. The stench of sulfur burned the air. Patience let out a small gasp, as though surprised, and sank to her knees. There was stillness for a moment until Argyle huffed and kicked her swiftly in the side, sending Patience sprawling in a smeared puddle of her own blood. She twitched, then didn't move.
Stunned, Ben found that he couldn't look away. His mouth was moving but no words came to him. 'You killed her,' Ben wanted to say, but even that much, even stating the obvious, he couldn't find the strength to force it past his lips. He held some faint notion that Patience would live but Ben wasn't sure. The meager thought wasn't very comforting.
He noticed Argyle move and finally looked away from Patience, up at him. Ignoring Ben completely, Argyle lifted his foot. Seeing him do that, suddenly it was Popigai lying on the floor all over again. Only, the second time around, Ben wasn't going to let it end there.
"Stop!" He shouted, dragging himself to his feet. Miraculously, Argyle listened, though there was amusement on his face as he raised an eyebrow at Ben. He didn't lower his foot, his eyes almost taunting. "You're not going to kill her. I won't let you," Ben snapped. He folded his good hand over the Omnitrix dial, subtly fiddling with the buttons. Of all the bad times for it to break on him…
"Is that so?" Argyle drawled. Any amusement faded to annoyance. He twisted his arm and snapped the sword off cleanly. From his elbow, a new hand was reforming. The other arm remained a jagged stump. Scowling, Argyle stalked toward Ben, leaving Patience where she was with the blade through her chest. "You think you can do anything with that watch, Tennyson? After all I've done, all I've struggled and worked for, do you honestly believe I would sit back and let someone like you ruin it?" Hatred flashed in his eyes.
He probably should have backed up but, stubbornly, Ben kept his feet rooted in the spot. He met Argyle's glare with one of his own and didn't let it falter, not even when the man grabbed Ben by the shirt and lifted him easily off of the floor.
Dangling in Argyle's grip, Ben refused to say anything. He waited for Argyle to try speaking, and then spat in his face.
He was thrown so hard and so suddenly that Ben didn't register flying through the air. He certainly felt stopping though, hitting the viewing window with a thud that shook him to his core. His head snapped painfully against peranite and Ben saw stars. When he reached back with a shaking hand, he wasn't surprised to find his hair soaked with blood.
His ears were ringing. Argyle was saying something as he approached Ben again, but he no longer cared to listen. It was crazy, and probably had something to do with just hitting his head, but Ben had a plan.
Struggling to stand, almost falling down again in his attempts, Ben turned to the window. It was so bright that he couldn't stand to look at it, but that didn't matter. He dropped his head and slammed his peranite hand against the glass. His arm jolted with the pain of it, but the viewing window cracked. Ben smirked. He hit it again, and a third time, then a fourth, harder each time when he didn't get the result that he wanted. He was crying out with each painful slam of his hand against it, but the fissure was growing.
Ben heard the resounding crack. He caught Argyle's shouts but didn't bother trying to make out the words. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, no doubt about to wrench Ben away from the window, but it didn't matter. His hand made the connection one last time and that was all that he needed.
The window shattered with a noise loud enough to wake the dead. Light spilled in, and as Ben recoiled, all he felt was heat.
A/N: God, this chapter was fun to write. Sorry if the dream parts don't make much sense. They aren't supposed to. If you don't get it, it might need to be reread, or I can elaborate if you leave a comment. Otherwise, get pumped! The next chapter is all action.
Ben vs. Argyle! It all comes down to this. I hope everyone is excited!
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Desperate Times, Desperate Measures
