A/N: Somehow this chapter is even shorter than the last one. Sorry about that, guys. Cross your fingers for longer ones in the future but, you know, each chapter has an outline. The word count just reflects how long it takes me to get through every point on the list.

Also, I've been thinking of opening a Ko-Fi account so you guys can support my work and I can take writing commissions. Thoughts?

Öyleys—

It wasn't not a surge of hope or excitement or anything like that, but Rook's eyes snapped open and he slammed his fist down on top of his alarm with invigorated energy. The beginnings of an idea were tickling the back of his mind. It was Thursday, again. He knew without having to check.

It was going to be the same events playing out, like before, but what if it wasn't? Rook hadn't done anything yet to dramatically challenge the script. But maybe if he did, then…

Well, he had no evidence to support that, but he might as well try it, right? Everything happened for a reason, or so the saying went, and that included the time loop he found himself in. If the universe had placed Rook in such a damning situation, surely it wanted him to do something. Clearly, saving Ben's life wasn't enough. Rook had to do something more than that, something only he could do.

He got out of bed slowly, taking his time to stretch and climb to his feet. Rook padded into his bathroom and studied his shower and medicine cabinet, thoughtful. He knew of some fellow Plumbers who had their own scented shampoos and plenty of cosmetics to alter their appearance in small ways every day. He had never taken notice of his own lack of personalization before.

Rook glanced behind him, at his barren bedroom, and frowned. Everything he owned was considered essential: his colorless, odorless soap, his complimentary bedsheets, his single cheap, disposable comb. The only thing in his room that stuck out as having a hint of personality was the photo frame that Ben had given him as a gift. And that had been Ben's purchase. Rook hadn't so much as put a photo in it.

He felt entirely unqualified to be taking charge of the situation as he was. Rook had never been a leader. He was a follower. Even in the last few days, he kept turning to his friends to find solutions to the problem for him.

Who in their right mind would think that Rook was capable of anything on his own?

He shook the thought away. Maybe when the time loop ended and decisions were permanent again, Rook would ask Ben to go to the Bellwood Mall, and they could buy posters for Rook's room, and shampoo with a brand and some sort of fruity smell, and they could stop at a photo booth to get something that would fit perfectly into his unused frame.

Getting into the shower, Rook took his time. It was hard to really enjoy it when he didn't have anything to spoil himself with. Some people liked long, hot showers, but Rook was struggling to understand the value in it. It just felt like he was wasting water. He lathered his fur twice simply to feel like he was doing something with his time, attempting to take it slowly, and got out when the water was starting to cool. He waited for a twinge of guilt at taking all of the hot water for the morning, but it didn't come.

It was difficult to feel guilty for something as minuscule as hot water when Rook was busy feeling guilty for killing Ben and then forcing him to relive it every afternoon.

He got his Proto-Armor on but, on second thought, left some of the pieces off. He kept his gloves and arm guards and shin guards on his bed, looking them over with a grimace. Rook felt naked without his full set of armor, but he was trying to do things differently, so he tolerated it. If only he had normal clothes.

He glanced over at his alarm clock. It was already five-thirty. Normally, he would be at the Plumber Fitness Training Center by then, but he didn't feel the normal itch of irritation that came with being behind schedule. There was no more schedule for Rook. It wasn't as though time mattered anymore. There was just him, Ben, and the problem that Rook had to fix for the sake of his own sanity.

With his armor only partly on and the Proto-Tool over his shoulder, Rook grabbed his Plumber badge and marched down the hall toward the garage. He stopped by the cafeteria to grab a proper meal, going through the serving line that he normally avoided and getting a full plate of food. Rook was just about the only one there, which spared him getting a lot of odd looks. Plumbers tended to stick to routines — it was better for the sake of efficiency.

He took his time eating, even though the food wasn't all that remarkable. Rook managed to drag his meal out all the way to six o'clock, when more officers began trickling in for their breakfast rations before their daily assignments. When he passed people that were familiar, Rook offered a smile and a nod, but nothing more. Ben liked to stop and chat, but frankly, the idea of small talk made Rook's stomach churn. He had something far more important to attend to and he never tolerated tardiness.

It was still an hour too early to pick Ben up, but Rook wasn't planning on heading there. No, it was better to let Ben sleep. If nothing else, it was another hour guaranteed that he wouldn't get himself in trouble.

With time on his side (at least, for the morning), Rook drove to the Mr. Smoothie on the far side of Bellwood. Each store had its own gimmick with flavors, as part of the brand to encourage people to visit all locations, and Ben's favorite just so happened to be the furthest one from his house. The flavor was, to Rook, disgusting: pickled plum and seared eel. But when the store opened at six-thirty, Rook ordered it anyway and he got himself an ordinary mango smoothie.

He wasn't really sure what the point was. He wasn't hungry and Ben wasn't going to remember the gesture anyway, unless Rook got lucky. But, well, just in case the day ended the way that Rook was planning… He wanted to say that he had at least done something generous for Ben, for no other reason than to be kind.

If only his Plumber badge doubled as a high-resolution camera — Rook would have liked to fill that photo frame.

He arrived at Ben's home a little earlier than anticipated, but that was alright. Rook was still attempting to work out what, exactly, he was going to say. Parking the Proto-TRUK along the curb, Rook sat back, two smoothies untouched in the cup-holder next to him, and thought.

It was beginning to seem like Ben's death was inevitable. When Rook wasn't there, he still died. When Rook was there and knew ahead of time, he still died. For a moment, Rook wondered what it must have been like. Not the dying aspect, but what came after. How long had it lasted for Ben? Had he seen anything other than blackness? Had he felt anything?

And if Ben had felt something, had he been in pain? Had he been furious with Rook?

The thought was pushed aside. Rook had no doubt that he would be feeling guilty for the rest of his life, regardless of how it turned out, so he had to focus. If there was a shot at fixing it, fixing everything for Ben… What would Rook be willing to sacrifice to make that happen?

Sitting in the Proto-TRUK wasn't giving him any answers. Seeing as how it was nearly time for Ben to leave the house and Rook had no intention of going on patrol regardless, he opened the door, grabbed his smoothies, and stepped out. Approaching the front door, Rook stopped at the step thoughtfully. He didn't see much of a point in knocking when Ben was going to be right out, and he'd prefer to keep Ben's parents out of it, but would it be creepy if Ben opened the door to see him standing there?

Rook decided that he didn't care and stayed right where he was. He didn't have to wait long, regardless.

The door opened with a soft creak. "Bye, mom! Looks like Rook is here," Ben called over his shoulder, not bothering to look where he was going.

Remembering how they tripped over each other the day before, Rook took a step back. Ben shut the door behind him and turned to face Rook at the last second. His eyes grew comically wide as Ben stuttered to a halt, bumping against Rook's chest. It was better than falling over each other. Had Rook's hands been free, he would have set his hand on Ben's shoulder to steady him.

Once he'd oriented himself, Ben took a step back. "Woah. Uh, hey, Rook. What's up? You're underdressed." His gaze flickered toward the smoothie cups in Rook's hands and he raised an eyebrow, giving a half-smile. "Oh, cool, and you brought breakfast. What's the occasion?"

There was an uncomfortable feeling in Rook's chest. Did he really do so little for Ben that he thought it had to be a special occasion to get a smoothie? They ordered them together all the time. Granted, usually only at Ben's insistence, and with Ben paying, but still.

"No occasion." Rook shook his head slowly and handed Ben his cup. "I had some free time this morning and so I went across town to get your favorite flavor." He managed a half-hearted smile. "'Available only at select Mr. Smoothy's restaurants,' I believe is what the commercial said."

Ben's entire face lit up as he took the cup from Rook's grasp, taking a large gulp from it. Personally, Rook wasn't sure how anyone stomached it, let alone enjoyed it, but it wasn't about him. It was about the look in Ben's eyes as he grinned. "Rook, wow! Seriously, dude, thanks. You didn't have to do that. I'm surprised you even remembered," he joked. "I only get this, like, once in a blue moon."

Rook wasn't sure what the second full moon in a calendar month had to do with anything, but he decided not to ask. He took a half-hearted sip from his own smoothie, just for show. It had no taste and settled cold in his chest when he swallowed.

"I did want to talk to you about something serious," Rook continued. He pulled his Plumber badge out of his pocket and turned it off. "Firstly, we will not be going on patrol today, nor will we answer our Plumber badges. Although, depending on how long this takes, we may not need to keep them turned off for too long." He stole a glance at the road behind him. Empty. For the time being, at least.

After taking a drawn-out sip, Ben parted from the straw with a pop and looked up at Rook curiously. "What are you talking about?" He asked after a long pause. "If it's this serious, shouldn't we let the Plumbers know?"

"No." Rook shook his head. "This is just between the two of us, Ben."

The frown on Ben's face deepened. He lowered his smoothie, staring at Rook more intently. It seemed that neither of them was going to be finishing their drinks. Rook gave up the pretense of enjoying his and stepped around Ben to set it down on the front porch step.

"Okay," said Ben at last. "What's going on then, Rook? Is it a special mission?"

"In a manner of speaking. But it is for me to worry about, nothing that you need to handle," Rook assured him. Deciding to rip the bandage off, he added, "This is the seventh day in a row that it has been Thursday. I seem to have found myself stuck in a time loop. No matter what I try, the day continues to reset and I am the only one that remembers it."

Ben stiffened, his eyes widening and his lips forming a perfect circle of surprise, a soft "oh," leaving him. Rook stared at his mouth for a second longer than was strictly necessary before looking back into Ben's eyes. "A time loop? Really?" When Rook nodded without a hint of a smile, Ben turned thoughtful. "Huh. That's… Wow. I didn't even notice." He looked around them, as though expecting something to be different. There were only the same blue sky and neat, suburban houses that were there every morning. Ben was still looking in the distance when he said, "I wonder what's so special about today, though. It's just Thursday."

Without missing a beat, Rook answered, "You died."

There was a moment where Ben had to process. He suddenly lost interest in whatever he had been staring at and looked at Rook as though seeing a stranger. "I… what did you say?" He asked at last.

Rook had to look away. He thought that he would have been desensitized to it by that point, but he couldn't handle the intensity of Ben's stare. "You died," he forced himself to repeat. "Three times, you have died." Once, when Rook was miles away, again when Rook had to watch, another beneath Rook's hands and in his arms. "It was an accident. And completely my fault, for being unable to save you." Rook was shaking but he didn't care. He swallowed to keep his voice from cracking. "I'm sorry."

Sensing how upset he was, Ben set his smoothie down and reached out to Rook with both hands, setting them on his forearms. It was almost the same thing as bare-skin contact without the Proto-Armor, even if Rook's bodysuit was still in the way. Rook had to resist the urge to pull Ben into a hug. "Woah, Rook, it's okay," Ben soothed. "I'm alive. I'm fine. Whatever happened, I'm sure it wasn't your fault." He didn't sound sure. Though, in fairness, it was difficult to talk evenly about one's own death.

"It was my fault." Rook pulled his arms back slightly, choosing instead to twist his fingers with Ben's. The gesture surprised Ben, but he didn't pull away. Rook let himself enjoy the feeling of their hands pressed together and choked his guilt down. "If it had not been my fault, then why else would I be the only one that remembers it?" He pressed. "I have saved your life, Ben, but that hasn't been enough. The time loop persists. Clockwork failed, Gwendolyn's spells did nothing, and Alien X was useless. I think that is ample evidence to conclude that the solution to this matter lies with me."

Ben looked entirely unconvinced, but he nodded anyway. "Okay. So, what's the plan?" He asked, surging forward. He squeezed Rook's hands out of eagerness and reminded himself that they were still clutching at each other. Carefully, Ben pulled his hands free, and Rook tried and failed not to be disappointed by the loss.

"You misunderstand, Ben. There is no plan as far as you are concerned." Rook looked out over the empty street thoughtfully, the idea he had been ignoring for too long nudging him again. "I am going to attempt to fix this myself by making a willing sacrifice."

That must have been the wrong thing to say. Ben's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Sacrifice?" He echoed. When Rook didn't answer, Ben persisted, more frenzied. "What are you talking about? Rook?"

A wave of exhaustion hit him. Rook was so tired. He was sick of it all. A week of nothing but Thursday and Rook was terrified at the thought of dragging it out any longer. He wanted the whole thing to end.

No matter how it finished, Rook didn't care, so long as it was over.

Out of the corner of his eye, Rook noticed a car turning the corner, coming down the street. Whoever was driving it was speeding, going about thirty miles an hour if Rook was remembering his human units correctly. It was grossly over the speed limit for the subdivision, but that wasn't what Rook cared about. He didn't give himself too long to think about what he was going to do.

"I am going to try something," Rook said finally. "Please do not freak out, Ben."

During Plumber training, it had been drilled into his head that to give his life for the cause was the highest honor a soldier could have. When he had been whittled down from a pool of thousands of contenders to be Ben Tennyson's new partner, the lesson was reinforced yet further: nothing in the universe was as important as keeping Ben Tennyson alive.

Nothing was more important than Ben. The last week had made Rook understand something about devotion. This was nothing to him. If he had to burn the world for Ben, then he would.

A life for a life, as the saying went. And, well, in some ways it made the most sense to Rook. If someone had to die, then why else had the universe chosen him, of all people, to be the one to fix things? It had to be fate or destiny or something else that Rook didn't believe in.

He stepped away from Ben, crossing the yard and to the sidewalk. Rook didn't turn around, but he heard Ben make a funny little noise when Rook put a foot in the street. Apparently, the on-coming car had caught his attention, too.

"Rook?" Ben called after him, hesitant and confused and maybe a little scared. "What are you doing?"

To answer would mean stopping to think and Rook couldn't let himself do that. So he said nothing to Ben and stared, instead, at the approaching car. The driver was on her phone, talking to someone, and barely paying attention to the road. He almost felt bad for incriminating her in what he was about to do but then he thought of Ben again and the feeling passed. He focused on lining it up.

It was important — for both himself and for Ben — that Rook made it quick.

He didn't throw himself on top of the car or step in front of it, knowing how durable even an incomplete set of Proto-Armor was. Rook leaned back to give himself momentum, and threw himself forward, aiming at the street.

Rook felt the asphalt beneath him, heard Ben scream his name (he thought that he saw a flash of green), and looked over just in time to confirm that he had lined up the front tires with his head and abdomen before everything went painfully, slowly black.

A/N: I've been playing fast and loose with the Kubler-Ross Model of the Five Stages of Grief. Rook wasn't in denial for long and he's been bouncing around between anger, depression, and bargaining. But when he hits acceptance, well, that's going to be the best part of this fic.