A/N: Remember how I said that this fic takes place during season six? Well, production order wise, it's supposed to be in season five. Apparently, the episodes were aired in the wrong order. So, for clarity's sake, this fic takes place definitively during season five.

Öyleyse iki mezar kaz, çünkü öldüğünde,
yemin ederim yanından ayrılmayacağım.

Beni cehenneme sürükleyebilirsin,
Bu senin elini tutabildiğim anlamına gelirse.

Rook laid awake in his Plumber standard bed scowling at the ceiling as he let his alarm play through the song. It was starting to get more and more annoying every time he heard it.

He didn't need to check the date on his Plumber badge to know that whatever spell Gwendolyn had cast the day before hadn't worked, but he grabbed the communicator anyway, if only out of habit. Sure enough, it was Thursday. Again. And Rook was back in his unremarkable room, alone in his one-person bed, with that goddamn song ringing in his ears. Ben was nowhere to be found.

But at least he was still alive.

Frustration was building in Rook's chest. He clutched at that anger because if he let it slip away, all that would be left was confusion and uncertainty. Anger, Rook could handle. Fear of the unknown was something that had terrified him since he was a child.

He rolled over, clutched his pillow to his face, and screamed into it as loudly as he could. Sure, it was a little silly, but Rook wasn't going to start tearing at his bed and trashing his room as he had on the first night of the loop. He didn't even want to think about it. Ben's dull eyes, the blood seeping between the rubble, the stain left on the pavement…

The memory was shaken off and Rook pulled himself up and out of bed. He might as well make himself presentable. He was tempted to stay in bed all day just punching the wall and screaming into his pillow, but that would be giving up, and Rook wasn't going to admit defeat. Ben would never surrender, so neither would Rook. It was the least he could do, considering all that Ben had done for him.

Right. Eyes on the prize. It was too soon to be throwing in the towel.

As he walked past his bedside table, Rook knocked his alarm clock off of it. It didn't break when it hit the ground, but it did shut up, which was what he had been aiming for. He was trying to get his frustration out before he went to see Ben. The last thing that Rook wanted was to end up inadvertently snapping at his partner, even if Ben wouldn't remember his behavior. That didn't excuse it.

In the bathroom, Rook stripped down and got in the shower, lathering his fur with more force than was strictly necessary. He spent five minutes longer in the shower than he usually did, mindlessly cleaning the same spots over and over and muttering under his breath.

The anger was irrational and, therefore, impossible to explain. Rook tried, though. He talked himself in circles trying to piece together why he was so upset. The problem was that the answers he came up with always crumbled whenever he applied the slightest bit of pressure. The lack of an answer only succeeded in upsetting Rook yet further.

No matter what avenue of thought he took, Rook kept coming back to the center of the problem: Ben. That was the biggest factor, he thought. Rook wasn't upset that he was the one tasked with fixing the time loop. No, he was upset that Ben had to be caught up in it, too. He was upset that the consequence of his failure was Ben's death, as if his life was something that was tethered to Rook's fuck-ups.

Ben should be decorating for Christmas with his family. He should be celebrating his shared birthday with Gwendolyn. He should be drinking smoothies and kicking butt and talking Rook's ear off about Sumo Slammers for the five-hundredth time.

Of all the things that Ben deserved to be doing, dying was not one of them.

In the end, though, being offended at the universe on Ben's behalf was a pointless and almost laughable endeavor, so Rook just sighed and got out of the shower. His fur had ended up water-logged, which was a minor annoyance, but not something that Rook cared about. He didn't have plans to be anywhere else until it was time to go pick up Ben for the patrol that they would absolutely be skipping.

He spent a solid twenty minutes blowing his fur dry. Rook didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be bothered to check. He got dressed in his uniform, grabbed his Plumber badge, and marched out to the garage to get the Proto-TRUK. It was too early to go see Ben, Rook knew that, but he was going to go crazy just sitting in his room waiting for time to pass.

The few other Plumbers in the halls gave Rook a wide berth. He barely even realized that they were there. He knew that he ought to compose himself, for Ben's sake, but Rook couldn't help that he really felt like punching something.

A part of him was still expecting to see Ben's car waiting in the garage, next to the Proto-TRUK. The empty space there threw Rook for a loop. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. Like flicking a switch, the anger was gone, and all Rook felt was cold regret. Maybe if he had done his job as Ben's partner correctly the first time, the time loop wouldn't have happened.

It had to have been caused by something with intent, otherwise, why would Rook be the only person that remembered it? So whoever or whatever was behind the loop had to want something from Rook, but what could it be? What was he doing wrong?

He pushed the thought aside for the time being and climbed into the Proto-TRUK. The way to Ben's house was familiar. Rook was barely paying attention to what he was doing. It took him until he turned into Ben's neighborhood to realize that he had been going ten miles under the speed limit the entire way. He hadn't noticed.

Rook's parking was sloppy, too, but he left the TRUK sort of on the curb and got out. He stalked up to Ben's house, fully prepared to knock and demand to see Ben… then paused. What was he going to accomplish, really, by storming in there at six in the morning for the third time in a row? He stood on the front porch and didn't move, paralyzed by indecision. Gwendolyn and Kevin had done all that they could and it hadn't worked. So if Rook went in there, all he was really going to be doing was waking Ben up. He had no plan.

With a sigh of defeat, Rook sat down on the porch. He might as well just let Ben sleep. At least he was going to be waking up. That was better than the alternative.

He held his head in his hands, looking down at the concrete walkway, willfully ignoring the biting cold in the dawn air. Was it even worth bringing up to Ben? Hopelessness clawed at Rook's chest. If every attempt was going to end in failure, why did it matter if he kept trying? It hadn't even been a week and it felt like he was running at a dead end. He had never dealt with matters of the spacetime continuum before and, so far, Rook wasn't enjoying it. He had no ideas for a solution.

He lifted his head up and looked out over the street. The sun hadn't risen yet. It hadn't even turned the night sky from black to a dusty blue. A car meandered by. Rook watched it thoughtfully. Maybe he could try…?

There was nothing to do other than wait. Rook had already decided to let Ben sleep. Knowing his partner, he had gone to sleep late, anyway. Ben thought he was sneaky, taking on projects at night by himself when they were off of patrol together. But Rook saw the paperwork and he stayed up-to-date on Ben's file. He didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do about it. To bring it up would be admitting to Ben that he had a slightly creepy interest in his friend's life. And even if he did mention it, Rook knew that Ben was never going to change. It was a trait that Rook both admired and loathed.

Maybe if Ben knew how to take care of himself, he wouldn't have died.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, Rook regretted it. He tamped back on the irrational anger and resentment. No, it wasn't Ben's fault. He was the victim in all of this. If anything, it was Rook's fault. If not his, then who's?

He stewed in his bitterness and doubt for what felt simultaneously like several hours and only a few minutes. Rook was only jolted from his thoughts when he heard the front door open.

"Bye, mom! Looks like Rook is here," Ben called back into the house, then he took a step forward and promptly tripped over Rook.

In his efforts to catch Ben, Rook ended up just knocking himself over. He landed on his back with his legs still twisted to the side like when he was sitting. Ben had his hands outstretched to catch himself and the drawstrings of his jacket were dangling in Rook's face, tapping against his nose.

Ben blinked, eyes wide and lips parted in a faint "o" as he looked down at Rook. It was rare to see him legitimately surprised and Rook found himself smiling despite what he had just been thinking about.

Then Ben laughed and sat back, sitting on his knees. "Hey, Rook. Fancy meeting you here," he teased. "You could have called first, just to give me a heads up before dropping in."

Rook quirked a brow. "I believe that you were the one doing the dropping," he corrected. "That was rude. I was simply trying to enjoy the sunrise." He stood up and offered his hand to Ben to pull him to his feet.

"What were you doing sitting on my porch, though? It's almost like you were setting me up to fail," Ben said suspiciously. He reached up to take Rook's hand and winced.

Once Ben was standing upright, Rook was quick to turn their hands around. He took notice of the red, irritated skin that had been scraped open in a few spots along the heel of Ben's palm. "Did this happen when you fell just now?" Rook asked as if the answer wasn't obvious. The blood was bright red, meaning it was fresh.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Ben said. He looked uncomfortable. "It's fine, dude. I just scratched up my palms on the concrete. And my wrists are sore now, but what else is new?" He sighed. "Probably shouldn't have caught myself like that, but I didn't want to body slam you."

For a few seconds, Rook was silent. He knew it was ridiculous to be upset over a scratch. Ben had gotten worse on routine jobs before and he had some rather unfortunate scars to prove it. But, regardless, Rook had promised himself that he wouldn't let Ben get hurt. He didn't want to see his partner's blood again. He had barely made it three days. The whole situation really was due to his incompetencies.

"Not that this isn't great but, uh, Rook?" Ben waved his free hand in front of Rook's face to get his attention. "Could you let go of my hand? Your grip is starting to hurt." Swallowing the guilt and an apology, Rook only nodded and let go. He hadn't even noticed that his hold had been tightening. Ben shook his hand out and studied it with a frown. "It's just a scratch, dude. If it'll make you feel better, though, I can go bandage it. I know you're a stickler for procedure. First-aid included, apparently."

The sad part was that seeing the injury wrapped would have made Rook feel better. He kept telling himself that Ben wasn't going to bleed out because he tripped and fell, but he kept remembering the other ways that Ben could bleed out.

He nodded distantly. "Yes. You should allow me to administer the proper first aid. It is better if we go inside anyway, Ben. There is something important I need to discuss with you."

If Ben thought that anything unusual was going on, he didn't show it. He shrugged. "Alright, sounds good. Let's go," Ben said with his normal enthusiasm. He pushed his front door back open and shrugged his jacket off, hanging it up on the coat rack that was there.

The blender was firing away, so Ben went in to the kitchen and tapped his mom on the shoulder. She was intently blending what looked like green mush, wearing a sleeping robe and a pair of fuzzy slippers. "Hey, Rook needs to talk to me about something so we won't be going on patrol yet," Ben said loudly to be heard over the blender. "I'll come see you and let you know when we're heading out for real, okay?"

"Okay," Sandra said, not sparing them more than a glance. "You kids have fun. I'll stop by and bring you both a smoothie in a few minutes!"

To Rook, Ben made a show of gagging, but then he smiled and pressed a kiss to his mom's cheek. "Thanks, mom," he called over his shoulder, already walking away. Ben missed it, but Rook saw the private little smile on Sandra's face.

The whole scene made his stomach churn. Rook had never had to tell Carl and Sandra how their son died, but the guilt gnawed at him all the same.

Pushing the thought away, Rook turned and left the kitchen. He followed Ben down the hallway back to his room. Somewhere in the house, the shower was running, presumably Carl Tennyson getting ready to start his day. The setting was so mundane and domestic. Rook hated it. Why couldn't Ben have this every day instead of being forced to repeat the same one?

Once in his room, Ben kicked the door shut behind them and threw himself down into his desk chair. It spun in a half-circle and he set a hand on his desk to turn back to facing Rook. Ben leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin in his palms. "So." He arched an eyebrow. "What's going on, dude? You sounded pretty serious back there. Is this, like, a personal issue or one that involves punching?"

Oh, where to begin? The idea of explaining the whole thing all over again made Rook frown. It would be a lot easier if he could say it once and record it, but the recording would just be gone in the morning.

Rook sighed and sat down on the edge of Ben's bed. First aid had been forgotten. "We are in a time loop," he settled on. Might as well be honest. He skipped over the shock on Ben's face and continued. "For some reason, I am the only one who remembers it. This is the fifth day in a row that it has been Thursday."

There was absolutely no way that he was going to tell Ben about his repeating death. It wasn't an important detail. Rook was going to keep the ending of the day to himself. Besides, if they managed to fix the time stream, it would never come to pass. And if they didn't, then Ben wouldn't remember Rook explaining it to him by the time that the next day rolled around. What was the point? Rook did his best to bottle in his frustration.

As it was with Ben, there was no skepticism. He took everything that Rook said at face value. "A time loop, huh?" He cupped his chin thoughtfully. "That's a new one. I could try using Clockwork to smooth everything out. He should be able to handle that."

He had barely finished and Rook was shaking his head. "No. You tried Clockwork yesterday. The intensity of what is happening with the time stream caused you to faint and turn back almost immediately," Rook told him. There was no sense in retracing failed paths. He didn't want to be rude, but he needed to make sure that Ben understood.

"It's that bad?" Ben blinked. He looked a little more worried than before, though not by much. "That's going to be a problem. Huh. Well, maybe Gwen can help. She has a lot of magic books. One of them could be useful."

"We have already tried that, too," said Rook with a hint of impatience. He wasn't upset with Ben. At the moment, Rook was mad at just about everything. "Clearly, it did not work."

That time, Ben's frown had a bite of frustration, too. Rook felt a little guilty, but he didn't apologize. "Okay, well, what haven't we tried? You have to have some idea. It's not like I know anything about spacetime and quantum mechanics."

He opened his mouth to tell Ben that he had no clue where to begin or what to do, but then Rook paused. He did have one idea. It was a little out there, but…

He was quiet for another few seconds, lips pressed into a thin line. Then, softly, "You have not tried Alien X."

Rook knew that Alien X was a last resort for Ben, but it seemed like the right time. Desperate times called for desperate measures, or so the Earth saying went. He was a little skeptical that Alien X would even do anything. He knew that Ben had a Celestialsapien in the Omnitrix, somehow, but the only time Rook had seen Alien X in use, Ben had just transformed into him and then changed back, only to proclaim that the entire universe had been destroyed and he had remade it. Claims like that didn't inspire a lot of faith, but Rook wasn't in any mood to be picky.

As expected, Ben grimaced. He had expressed his distaste for Alien X plenty of times before, but evidently he didn't see the point in arguing because he said, "Ugh, those guys… Fine. I'll see if Bellicus and Serena have any idea about what's going on and if Alien X can fix it."

He stood up and popped open the Omnitrix's core, turning through his playlist before settling on Alien X. There, Ben paused. He looked up at Rook, questioning, and even opened his mouth to say something before abruptly closing it again. Ben looked away and pressed down on the core.

Like the last time Ben had transformed into Alien X in front of Rook, it immediately felt different than his other aliens. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room and was replaced with a wave of heat. There was a faint smell of plasma. It only lasted a split-second, over as soon as the light from the Omnitrix died down. Alien X hovered just above the ground, unmoving. Absolute blackness gave him the appearance of a cut-out, a void in the fabric of space itself, but then Rook looked closer and noticed the dozens of tiny, twinkling lights. Not stars, but galaxies. They weren't embedded into his skin — rather, it was as though Alien X's body was a hole that allowed Rook to see the universe.

Under better circumstances, it might have been pretty. But looking at the magnitude of it all, Rook felt only hopelessness.

There was nothing for him to do, though. Ben had transformed into Alien X, so he would be unresponsive either until he solved the problem or until Rook went to sleep and woke up to the same day again. He didn't know how long that would take.

For a few minutes, Rook sat there and watched Alien X, hoping that it could all be over just as easily as that. Nothing was ever simple, though. The minutes ticked by and Rook found his attention waning. Should he try Gwendolyn and Kevin again? There was a good chance that they would be of no help at all, but doing something to keep himself busy would at least make Rook feel productive until Ben finished up.

There was a knock at the door and Ben's mom entered without waiting for permission, holding two cups of what looked like green cement. The smile on Sandra's face was quick to fall. She stared at Alien X for what felt like a long time, expression unreadable, then turned to look at Rook. "Is that Ben?" She asked.

The question struck Rook as odd. Not because it was an unreasonable thing to ask, but because of the tone Sandra had used. She sounded almost desperate.

Slowly, Rook nodded. "Yes. This is Ben's Celestiansapien form, which he calls Alien X. Do not bother trying to talk to him. This alien cannot do anything unless all three personalities in its head agree on an action which to take. I do not think that he could hear us anyway."

Sandra looked a little faint, but just gave a noncommittal hum and set the smoothies down on Ben's desk. She didn't take her eyes off of Alien X. Once her hands were free, she studied the alien closer, circling him slowly. "What does this alien do, exactly?" She questioned after several minutes of silence. "It seems impractical. Does it do something that makes all of this waiting worth it?"

Rook hesitated. There was nothing technically stopping him from telling Sandra everything she wanted to know, but he wasn't sure how Ben would feel about it. Not to mention, she was an ordinary human woman. The concept of Alien X was monumental. Would it upset her to know that there was a species in the universe capable of changing everything in an instant, without anyone even noticing?

In the end, he decided that, like most everything else, it didn't matter one way or the other. The chance that she wouldn't remember their conversation was high. "Alien X can do anything," Rook said finally. "So long as the three voices — Ben being one of them — agree on a single action to take, there is no limit to what he can do. He could reverse time, or make a planet disappear from existence, or…" He shrugged. "Perhaps summon himself a grape smoothie. It is the most powerful of the alien forms he has unlocked. Though, he will only move when he has made a decision," he explained.

Her eyes widened in surprise and Sandra looked back at Alien X again. "He can do all of that?" She whispered. Then something occurred to her and, to Rook again, she asked, "What is Ben trying to do with this alien right now?"

That time, Rook didn't have to think about it. He shook his head. "Plumber business, Mrs. Tennyson. I am afraid that I cannot share the details."

It was a lie, and a blatant one, but Rook couldn't bring himself to tell Sandra the truth. He didn't want to relive the whole thing again, either. If Ben fixed the time issue, Sandra would never need to know, and if Ben didn't fix it, then she would forget their entire conversation. That was just the way things were.

It was starting to get incredibly frustrating.

Unhappy, Sandra nonetheless nodded. With her lips pressed into a thin line, she sighed. "Whatever it is, it must be serious… Ben gets himself into so much trouble." She glanced at Rook but, when he didn't acknowledge her, she turned and headed for the door. Sandra paused with one foot over the threshold. "Oh, and Rook?" She called back. He looked up at her politely, expression blank. To his surprise, Sandra smiled — sad and resigned. "Drink your smoothie. And take care of my son."

When Rook nodded, unable to think of anything to say, she left. The door was shut behind her with a soft click.

Alone, there was once again nothing for Rook to do except watch and wait. He ended up taking the smoothie that Sandra had left for him, leaving one for Ben in case he transformed back soon and wanted something to eat. It wasn't that bad, but Rook wasn't really tasting it. He only drank the green smoothie at all to have something to do with his hands and to keep his stomach occupied.

It was sort of funny. Rook had barely eaten across the last five days, but he never found himself hungry. It was as though his mind was too clogged with everything else going on to register base needs like hunger.

Rook kept trying to think up something that he could do to pass the time productively, but he never found it in himself to move. There was an alarm clock next to Ben's bed and Rook watched the minutes tick by with a detached look on his face. Most of the time, he wasn't thinking about anything. He was just existing, nothing save the rising and falling of his chest to indicate that there was still a person inhabiting that body at all.

His throat closed up. He missed Ben. Rook hadn't stopped missing him since he died.

Hours passed like that and Rook barely noticed, flicking cursory glances at the clock but not really registering what it was telling him. There seemed to be no point in doing anything at all. The longer Rook sat there, the more anger drained out of him. In its place, nothing was left. If Alien X didn't work, what was Rook supposed to do? Give up?

Sometime around noon, Rook's Plumber badge started beeping. Despite his indifference, the noise still made Rook wince. He knew exactly what the call was about and he didn't even want to acknowledge it. He turned his Plumber badge off and only remembered to feel guilty about it a few minutes after.

It was getting difficult to muster up any empathy when Rook knew that it didn't matter. If people died in those fires, they would be alive the next day, just like Ben was. And they wouldn't have to remember any of the horrific things that happened, unlike Rook.

The bedroom door opened, startling Rook. He blinked, and only then noticed how dark it was in the room. The sun was setting and the only steady light was the faint glow that came from Alien X. Rook looked up to see Ben's dad standing there, not coming into the room.

"He's still like that?" Carl asked, his strained smile dropping. When Rook didn't answer, he took that as the confirmation that it was and sighed. "Rook, you should eat something, at least. Sandra made dinner if you want to join us."

Rook waited for a reaction — a spike of hunger, an inkling of guilt, even just his consciousness automatically telling him to be polite and accept — but he felt nothing. He shook his head slowly. "No, thank you, Mr. Tennyson. I am not hungry. I would prefer to stay here." The "With Ben" part went unsaid, but he got the feeling that Carl understood anyway.

He nodded, following Rook's gaze to stare at Ben. Like Sandra, he had a sad look in his eyes. It wasn't Rook's place to ask about it, so he didn't. "I worry about him," Carl said quietly.

There was silence for a moment. "So do I," Rook admitted.

Carl left without further comment. The door closing had an aching note of finality to it. A part of Rook wanted to open it again, drag Ben out there, and insist that they all eat dinner like everything was normal again. He didn't, though. Rook wasn't nearly that delusional.

The sun sank below the horizon and Rook laid down on Ben's bed, even though he wasn't tired. He didn't bother taking his armor off, he just rested flat on his back without getting under the sheets. He wasn't dreading what the next day would be, but only because Rook had found a new emotion buried beneath all of his upset: resignation. If it was inevitable, what was the point in wasting energy by being angry about it?

His eyes caught on Ben's letterman jacket, still hanging on a hook above the foot of the bed. Before he could convince himself not to, Rook sat up and grabbed Ben's jacket. He held it up, the light of the moon coming through the window catching on the number "10" over the heart. Rook sighed, deflating both inside and out. He laid back down, staring at the ceiling, and clutched the jacket over his chest as though it might soothe the emptiness that was threatening to consume him.

The clock ticked, the world turned, and Rook fell asleep to Alien X's glow, holding no doubts about what he was going to wake up to.

A/N: Do you guys think this is moving too fast? Are you getting emotional whiplash? Say "no" and shit is going to pick up really quickly after this. I like this chapter length, though. This is what I wanted for the whole fic and I'm going to try and maintain something like this the rest of the way through.