A/N: This is the halfway point of the fic. I've got a new upload schedule so, even though last chapter I promised to be done by January of 2022, now it's looking more like September of 2021. That's good news, right? Enjoy!

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

Beni cehenneme sürükleyebilirsin,
Bu senin elini tutabildiğim anlamına gelirse.

Rook woke up in the morning and, for the first time in a while, laid back and let his alarm play all the way through. He'd never liked the song much beyond the nostalgia for his family and his homeworld, but recently, he had begun to reconsider.

It was a love song, about the willingness to follow a loved one through Death itself and back. Rook realized at around the song's halfway point that he'd never related to it before. That must have been why he never really liked it. He remembered, somewhat belatedly, that he was dating Rayona. And, funnily enough, Rook hadn't spared her one thought since this whole situation began. He had only started thinking about her at all because he was supposed to.

When listening to a love song, he ought to be thinking about his girlfriend. Instead, Rook was thinking about Ben.

To be fair, most of his thoughts anymore were about Ben. He sighed and, when the song came to a close, reached over and turned off his alarm so that it wouldn't repeat. Rook sat up and stretched out, feeling his body relax as bones cracked. It was a new Thursday. And, like the last one, Rook was going to be dedicating this one to Ben.

He wished that he hadn't set his alarm to five-thirty on Wednesday. Rook was getting tired of wasting nearly two hours of his time before going to meet up with Ben.

So he resigned himself to being bored and began doing his routine anyway. He showered and dressed, again selecting the only plain clothes that he owned. Rook grimaced, looking at them. Plumber workout clothes were hardly appropriate for what he was planning. He was sure that wearing his Proto-Armor wouldn't be a problem, since he was seen in it every day anyway, but he didn't want to repeat things that he did every day anymore.

Actually, looking at his clothes made Rook perk up. That was a good way to waste time: he could go shopping for a new outfit. There were a few clothing stores in Bellwood that were open all day, right?

Enthused, Rook hurriedly finished his morning routine and left his room. Just like the last time he'd done this, Magister Tennyson was already in the main hub, ready to start a long day. And, again, he reacted to Rook's request for the day off with surprise before agreeing. To be honest, Rook barely paid attention to the conversation. His words left his mouth without thought, only because he already knew what Max was going to say. It was almost word-for-word something that they had already discussed.

No, Rook was far more interested in thinking about what sort of outfit to buy. Which was funny, because he'd never given much thought to clothes before. Once he'd started thinking about it, Rook realized that he had almost no sense of personalization whatsoever. The walls in his room were blank, his clothing was just his uniform, and he didn't even have a favorite song or so much as a preferred genre of music. Rook wasn't sure that he could correctly identify a song's genre.

It was no wonder that he made for a perfect Plumber, Rook thought as he meandered his way toward the garage. Being a soldier, his only job was to do as instructed, to react to situations as his training dictated. Rook had been easy to mold because there was nothing to beat out of him first. He'd been unremarkable going into training, and even more so when he'd come out.

Actually, that wasn't quite true. Rook suddenly stopped walking. Before training, on Revonnah, he'd liked Ben 10. The only posters Rook had ever hung in his room, the only thing worth slacking on his studies for, the only thing that made him consider life beyond farming at all… It had always been about Ben. The whole time.

How had Rook never realized that before?

The realization was somewhat tempered by the fact that, for the last week or so, Rook had been well-aware of how his priorities were shifting. It felt poetic, then, to realize that nothing had changed. Almost comforting, even.

He continued on to the garage, climbing into the Proto-TRUK and using its locator to find a nearby store. Finding a place that was open at six in the morning and sold clothes wasn't as difficult as Rook thought it would be. In a few minutes, he had a destination blinking steadily away on the zoomed-in view of Bellwood's streets. Thinking about it, Rook resolved to also buy something for Ben's parents. He was about to ask them for a favor, after all, so it was only polite.

When Room arrived, the store was mostly empty and the employees had tired, bored eyes. No one batted an eye at seeing an alien in the men's department, shuffling through the sweaters. It was supposed to be a cold month, wasn't it? Rook might as well dress the part.

He selected a nice, white turtleneck sweater and a warm pair of dark pants. In an effort to look less ordinary, Rook grabbed a lightweight, brown jacket and a striped scarf that looked to be hand sewn with autumn colors. For shoes, he hesitated, before ultimately deciding "fuck it" and purchasing a pair of dress shoes. He couldn't wear his combat boots forever, right? It wasn't like it mattered how much money he spent, anyway. It was all going to be gone in the morning.

While making his way to the checkout, Rook noticed a stand near the front that had different flower bouquets advertised. He remembered something he read about human customs and gift-giving. Flowers were acceptable, weren't they? It wasn't like Rook had the proper ID to purchase wine. He wasn't even sure if Ben's parents would drink that.

Anyway, Rook grabbed a bouquet of white roses because they were the closest to him and continued on. They were festive, weren't they? He didn't want to waste time agonizing over a decision when Rook barely knew anything about flowers or human customs anyway. "Good enough" would just have to do.

There was only one check-out open, and the woman working there mustered up the energy so early in the morning to give Rook a knowing smile when she saw the flowers. "Got a special lady in your life, huh?" She teased. "I would have gone for the red roses, but that's just me."

"Oh, no," Rook said with a smile. He was picturing giving Ben the flowers when he answered his door. "These are not an act of love. They are an apology to my friend's parents."

"Ah." The woman winked. "I get it. Your "friend," hm?" She chuckled like she was making a joke, but Rook wasn't sure what the punchline was.

He wondered if, whatever it was, Ben would find it funny, too.

It was only after Rook had already left the store that he remembered that he ought to be thinking about Rayona. He looked at the bouquet he was holding and, almost disinterestedly, realized that he wasn't sure if she would like roses or not. It wasn't like it mattered.

With his purchases in hand, Rook got back into the Proto-TRUK. He changed his outfit in the back, looking down at himself to scrutinize his appearance since he didn't have a mirror. It looked good, he thought. Rook wasn't a very good judge of human style. He knew that Ben usually looked good, but this wasn't all that similar to Ben's look.

After a few minutes, Rook pronounced it "good enough," and got back into the driver's seat. He was a little anxious about what he was going to say, but only because he wasn't sure how it was going to go. Ben had said what he wanted and Rook was going to attempt to deliver.

It was six-thirty when Rook left the store, so he spent thirty minutes driving aimlessly in circles. When it was eventually time for him to go to the Tennyson household, Rook still managed to arrive early. He glared at his clock, drumming his fingers impatiently against the wheel. Finally, at seven-fourteen, he took the flowers in hand and left the TRUK.

Rook knocked on the door, his heart beating in his chest. He heard Ben's voice from inside and subconsciously stood up a little straighter. There was the sound of approaching footsteps and Rook felt all of his remaining frustration disappear as he smiled. He didn't think much about it.

As soon as the door was opened, Ben's eyes zeroed in on the flowers. Which was fair enough, Rook supposed, because they were exceedingly obvious. "Here. I bought these," he said lamely, unsure, and held the flowers out.

Ben took the bouquet with an amused smile, holding it with both hands. "Um, thanks?" He quirked a brow and stepped away from the door. "You can come in, dude."

"Oh, uh…" It occurred to Rook that he hadn't explained himself very well when he handed Ben those flowers. His face was warm beneath his fur. Rook started to correct the error but decided that it'd be more trouble than it was worth. And Ben didn't seem upset, so no harm was done, right? "Right. Thank you," he said, stepping into the house.

The misunderstanding was a little ridiculous. Rook wouldn't give Ben roses. If he was going to buy flowers with the intention of giving them to Ben, specifically, he would have chosen a mix of white tulips and red anemones.

"Nice outfit," Ben commented as he kicked the door shut behind them. He sort of hovered there, holding the flowers as though unsure what to do with them. Even though they wouldn't be his first choice for Ben, Rook couldn't help but notice that they complimented his eyes nicely. "So, flowers, new threads… What's the occasion?"

"I got us the day off of work," Rook said. "And, if your parents can get the time off as well, I thought that this would be a good opportunity for you all to decorate for—" What was the name of the holiday, again? "—Christmas."

He must have said the name right, because Ben didn't laugh. Actually, his expression softened and he looked at Rook with fondness that made his stomach flutter. "Oh, Rook…" Ben's grip on the flowers tightened. "That's so nice of you. How did you even know about that?"

That was a question that Rook couldn't answer truthfully without explaining that time was looping. And he didn't want to. He didn't want to replace Ben's smile with his serious, determined "hero look." This was going to be a good day, and Rook wasn't going to ruin Ben's mood by revealing that it would never end.

Thankfully, Rook was saved from having to answer when the noise from the blender suddenly cut off and Sandra came from the kitchen. She looked at Rook, then at the flowers Ben was holding, and raised an eyebrow in amusement. It was the same look that Rook had gotten from the cashier at the store. "Well, what's all this about?" She teased.

Ben, obvious, headed past her and into the kitchen. Presumably, it was to get a vase for the flowers. He had finally remembered what to do with them, it seemed. "Rook got us the day off work! I know it's short notice, but—" There was banging and clattering as Ben moved things around, then the sound of running water. "—do you think that you and dad can get today off of work? We could finally decorate for Christmas like you were talking about."

That made Sandra forget all about the flowers and Rook's new outfit. She brightened considerably. "Really?" Sparing a glance at Rook, she quickly made up her mind. "Well, I'm sure they won't care if I call in sick for one day. I'll go see what your dad has to say." She gave Ben a kiss on the cheek and, with hurried steps, retreated to the bedroom to speak to her husband.

There was a heavy thud as Ben set the vase full of water on the kitchen table. He unwrapped the plastic around the roses and placed it in, fussing about spreading them out and making the bouquet look fuller before, finally, turning back to Rook. "This means a lot to my parents," he said, closing the distance between them. "Thanks so much, Rook. I mean it. I don't know why it never occurred to me to never just call in and ask for the day off myself. I guess I never considered that being a hero was a job, like something you could opt out of."

Rook's smile thinned. No, of course Ben never would have thought about taking a break. He would use free time as it came up, but he wouldn't ask for it. Well, that was fine. Rook could ask for both of them.

The bedroom door down the hall opened, and Carl stepped out. He was still in his sleepwear and looked like he'd literally just rolled out of bed, but his eyes were bright when he came into the living room. "So, what's this I hear? A day off?" He asked.

Ben nodded. "Yeah, Rook got us out of patrol today. You can just call in sick to work, right?" He clasped his hands together, pleading with his face in a way that he was entirely too old for. Rook found it endearing anyway. "Please?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" Carl pretended to think about it, but he wasn't very good at keeping the smile off of his face. "Sure. The higher-ups won't be too happy, but if I'm sick, what can they do? They won't fire me for something like that." He faked a cough. "There's nothing to be done but bed rest. And maybe putting up the Christmas tree, if I feel up to it."

"Yes!" Ben pumped a fist in the air and then looked down at himself. "If we're gonna be staying in and doing Christmas stuff, I'd better get into the right clothes."

Rook tilted his head curiously. Ben was dressed normally, the same way he looked almost every day. "Why is there a need to change clothes?" He asked.

"It's more like a family tradition," Ben explained. "See, during Christmas break, I get two weeks off of school. Whenever I was still in school, anyway." He rolled his eyes. "So when I was younger, I wouldn't shower or change out of my pajamas if I could help it. Once, I managed to go the entire break without showering," he said proudly.

"Thankfully, he has better hygiene now," Carl cut in teasingly. "But the tradition has lasted. Every year, we also buy a new set of pajamas to wear specifically on Christmas Eve so that we're wearing them when we open presents in the morning," he continued. "Sandra's already in the shower, getting cleaned just so she can put on another set of pajamas. You can go ahead and change too, Ben. I'll call my boss while she's doing that and get in when she's done."

Then, to Rook's surprise, Ben lurched forward. He wrapped his arms around his dad, turning his head to the side. "Sorry we didn't get to do this sooner," he muttered, and Rook felt very much like he was intruding upon something.

Carl looked surprised for a moment, only to quickly soften. Forgetting that they still had an audience, he hugged his son back with a smile. "It's not your fault," he replied, equally as quiet. "Your mother and I are so proud of you, Ben. You have nothing to apologize for."

When Rook was convinced that one of them was about to start crying, Ben pulled away just as quickly as he'd initiated. "I'll cook something," Ben offered weakly. "Since it's a special occasion, I think mom'll let us have something other than smoothies."

"Never thought I'd live to see the day that you didn't want a smoothie." Carl ruffled Ben's hair as he stepped back. On his way out of the room, he shot Rook a grateful smile over his shoulder. His footsteps padded down the hall and back to his bedroom, where Rook could hear the creak of pipes and the shower running. The door closed behind him, leaving Ben and Rook effectively alone.

It was quiet between them. Ben was looking toward his parents' room with a blank expression, lost deep in thought. Rook didn't know what to say and, even if he did, he wasn't sure that he'd want to break Ben's revere, anyway.

Finally, Ben snapped out of it, shaking his head and turning toward the kitchen. "It'd've been nice if Grandpa could get the day off," he said cheerfully. "Gwen and Kevin are supposed to come out on the twenty-first since Gwen gets winter break and Kevin got the time off of work. When we were all younger, Christmas used to be a lot of fun. I think it was the only time that Grandpa and dad got along. We'd switch off every year, celebrating Christmas Day either here or at Aunt Natalie and Uncle Frank's house." Ben laughed, but it didn't sound very happy. "They were always short on space, so I'd have to spend Christmas Eve in a sleeping bag on Gwen's floor. I used to hate it. Then when we got older, she'd join me on the floor, and I remember one year we used every available blanket in the house to make a giant fort next to her bed, and we stayed up talking and laughing until it was the next morning. I think I passed out halfway into opening presents around the tree."

Rook was too taken aback to speak. It really did look like Ben was crying, and he couldn't figure out why. Wasn't the memory he'd just described a happy one? Wasn't this a good thing? Having time off to celebrate with his family was what he wanted, right? But now Ben was standing in the middle of his living room, halfway to the kitchen, with tears in his eyes and shaking like he was about to come apart.

"Ben?" Rook tried, voice barely a whisper. But regardless of how quiet he was, that one word was enough to shatter the moment.

There was a shudder to Ben's movements like he was forcing himself back together as he straightened and turned to Rook. There were no tears in his eyes, but his face was red. "Sorry about that, Rook. I guess Christmas just gets me nostalgic." He forced a laugh. "Anyway, what was I doing? Uh… Oh, right. Breakfast. You can hang out in here while I cook if you want."

While Ben scampered off to the kitchen, Rook found himself at a crossroads. Any other day before, he would have respected that Ben clearly wanted personal space and left him alone. But not today. Even if he didn't understand it, Rook could tell that Ben was upset. And, dammit, he was tired of seeing Ben miserable.

He entered the kitchen and the vase of white roses on the table caught Rook's eye. His resolve hardened. So, saying nothing of what had happened, Rook walked over to where Ben was shuffling through one of the cabinets. "What are you planning to make?" He asked.

There was a shrug. Ben finally pulled out what he was looking for: a modestly-sized glass mixing bowl. "Oh, well, mom doesn't have a lot of solid food right now so I'm just gonna make some batter and throw it into the waffle iron. Maybe slice some strawberries and eat them with those, since we don't have any chocolate chips."

Approximately none of that made any sense to Rook. He knew next to nothing about cooking Earth food, although he'd eaten his fair share of it. But, fuck it, he could always stand to learn something new. So Rook shrugged off his jacket and scarf, leaving them on the counter, and rolled up his sleeves. "Is there anything that I can do to help?"

Ben's expression did this funny thing, where he blinked like he didn't quite know how to process what Rook had said. When he eventually smiled, it seemed to take up his entire face. "You can start by washing your hands."

What followed was probably one of the most disastrous attempts Rook had ever had at trying something since the first time he held the Proto-Tool. He didn't understand human recipes or measurements very well, which resulted in him using teaspoons and tablespoons interchangeably. Rook ruined two batches by adding a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon, and then proceeded to do almost exactly the same thing, the only difference being that he overdid the baking powder the second time around.

After spilling half of their flour on the floor and counter, Rook was delegated to clean-up duty while Ben carefully measured everything, being forced to use the last of the milk to get all the ingredients correct, finally. While Rook was sweeping, he "accidentally" put too much force behind a stroke of the broom and ended up covering Ben's back in flour. It resulted in Ben grabbing handfuls of flour from the floor and throwing them at Rook in retaliation, which quickly turned the kitchen into a disaster zone as they went back and forth.

A part of Rook was worried about what Ben's parents would think, but the bigger part of him was having too much fun to care. Ben was laughing, shooting terrible one-liners at Rook with every handful of flour. His hands were still slick from the vegetable oil, there was flour in his hair, and Rook was pretty sure that the streak on Ben's cheek was from the eggs. He looked radiant.

Their fun came to a freeze-frame perfect stop when Sandra entered the kitchen, wearing a warm set of pajamas instead of the bathrobe that Rook had seen her wearing every day before. With all available surfaces coated in flour and the only waffle they'd managed to make ending up burnt, she just cupped her chin and sighed.

After that, Ben and Rook were set to work cleaning up the mess they'd made. It didn't take as long as Rook thought it would, although to be fair, cleaning flour was as simple as running a damp rag over areas that looked powdery. While they did that, Sandra turned their batter into something edible.

"Not until you wash up," she griped when Ben tried to sneak a waffle. She smacked his hand with the rubber spatula and Ben yanked it back, scowling as he licked the batter off of his skin. "Go on, Ben. Might as well jump in the shower again before you get your pajamas on. I'm sure you've got flour in who-knows-where."

"Fine." Ben tossed his head back with a drawn-out, over-exaggerated groan. "But if dad gets done before me, you'd better not let him eat all the waffles." Ben suddenly fixed Rook with an intense stare, reaching up to set his hands on Rook's shoulders heavily. "I'm trusting you with this, partner. Don't let me down."

Of course, Ben was joking, and he was quick to burst out laughing. Rook tried, but all he could manage was an uneasy chuckle. Trust. Right…

With Ben banished from the kitchen until he was showered and wearing something comfortable, Sandra turned and gave Rook a damp hand towel. "For your clothes," she said by way of an explanation. "It won't get out the worst of the stains, but at least you won't look like you got a bag of flour upended over your head."

Rook took it was a small smile, watching the back of Sandra's head as she turned to refill the waffle iron. "I am sorry about the mess," he said awkwardly, beginning to pat himself down. The flour came up easily.

"Oh, no need to apologize. I'm not upset about it." Sandra hummed softly and, for a moment, it was quiet. Then she said, "I watched the two of you for a little bit, you know. It looked like Ben was having fun."

Despite himself, a smile came to Rook's face. He remembered the way that Ben's face had lit up, so much better than the close-to-tears look he'd had before. "Yes," was all he said, quietly. What else was there to add?

Sandra turned to him, her expression unreadable. "I've only known about Ben's alien-fighting for a year," she began, "but I can tell how hard it's been on him. I don't know how he acts around you but, at home, he's so much quieter than he used to be. He spends a lot of time alone in his room with the door shut. He won't talk to me or Carl about his fights, even when he comes home injured." Her lips thinned and Sandra looked away. "He was once gone for two days, and then I got a call from Gwendolyn that he was in the hospital with his arm in a sling because he'd needed stitches. And he never would have told us about it if he hadn't needed a parent to sign the release forms." She gathered herself and took a deep breath. "My point is that he opens up around you, and you obviously care about him a lot." Sandra's eyes drifted over to the vase of white roses. Rook didn't see the connection that she was making. "Whatever you're doing, keep it up. You make him happy."

Under her stare, Rook straightened. He'd long since stopped trying to clean his clothes and just stood there stupidly, clutching the rag for no reason. "Mrs. Tennyson, I… I do not—" Rook wasn't sure what he was going to say and, thankfully, he didn't have to figure it out.

Footsteps announced Carl's return as he poked his head into the kitchen. "What smells like it's burning?" He asked.

There was a muffled noise as Sandra bit back what was undoubtedly a curse and then proceeded to spend five minutes scraping the blackened waffle out of the iron and into the sink. In that time, Rook managed to get most of the flour off of himself. And not a moment too soon, because Ben left the bathroom with his hair restyled and wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants with a long-sleeve shirt that had one of the ugliest embroideries of a Christmas tree on it that Rook had ever seen.

"Like it?" Ben asked, knowing full-well that there was nothing whatsoever to like about it. "It lights up, too." He pressed a button stitched into the hem and, true to his word, the sweater lit up with green and red lights hidden in the fabric, playing a short little jingle, too.

"I thought that you were supposed to wear pajamas," Rook said weakly. "I cannot imagine that would be very comfortable to sleep in."

Ben shrugged. "I've slept in loads of more uncomfortable positions before. Now, where're my waffles?"

While Ben and Carl tried to see who could fit the most waffles in their mouth, Rook accepted a smoothie from Sandra and sipped tentatively on it. It didn't taste very good, but he didn't want to be rude and, anyway, he wasn't that hungry. But he was content. Rook sat at the dining table with the Tennyson family and felt a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the sweater he was wearing.

He didn't know a lot about Christmas, so watching the family run through their usual traditions was both enlightening and gratifying. Rook didn't participate much if he could help it, content to hang back and watch. It wasn't about how he felt, of course. It was satisfying enough to see that Ben was having a good time putting up the tree and unboxing ornaments.

On the floor, digging through a plastic tub that was crammed with tiny boxes, Ben let out an excited noise. "See this one?" Ben asked, holding up a glass ball with glitter and a piece of paper inside. The paper was balanced to be standing up-right, and on it, there was a small handprint in green paint. "I made this in kindergarten. It was the first craft-thing I made for Christmas. Ooh, hold on." He pressed the glass ball into Rook's hands, who went stiff, holding it like it was something precious. "I think I can find this train set that Grandpa got me. It's a set of five ornaments and each one was made a year apart. He gave one to me on my first Christmas through to my fifth."

Rook's smile was unguarded and fond. He gave the little glass ornament a shake, watching the glitter settle back at the bottom. He held it up to Ben's profile, comparing how he'd grown to the tiny handprint that he was holding. It seemed like such a parental, domestic thing to be fond over, but Rook wasn't smiling because he felt familial. If Ben made it when he was five, then that was exactly between his birth and finding the Omnitrix. He'd saved the universe for the first time when he was ten. And now, Rook had the strange privilege of sitting casually on the Savior of the Universe's couch, looking at his baby books and stringing gaudy garlands around a fake tree.

Funny. Was that fate, then? Was Rook always meant to end up where he was? The thought was oddly comforting. He didn't need to fight the time loop. He was exactly where he was supposed to be: with Ben.

"Rook?" Carl's voice broke his revere and, startled, Rook lowered the ornament and tore his eyes away from Ben. How long had he been staring?

"Yes, sir?" He asked, trying not to look as flustered as he felt.

Based on the look on Carl's face, Rook didn't succeed. "Do you want to put the star on top of the tree? You've got the longest arms."

The star? Rook blinked, focusing on the large, star-shaped decoration that Carl was holding. It had a cord in the back, clearly designed to light up. Something niggled at the back of Rook's mind, a random factoid from one of the couple dozen pamphlets on Earth culture he'd read when he was assigned to be Ben's partner.

Ah, right. Wasn't the star important? He shook his head. "With all due respect, Mr. Tennyson, I believe that Ben should be the one to put the star up," Rook insisted.

Ben snickered. He'd straightened, coming out of the ornament box for air finally. In his hand was a Marilyn Monroe ornament that must have been older than he was. "Oh, c'mon, put up the star, Rook. We always let our guest at the time do it. You can't be any worse at it than Kevin was."

"If it hadn't been for Gwendolyn's quick-thinking and magic shields, he would have knocked the whole tree over," Sandra added.

After a moment of internal struggle, Rook decided that it would be ruder to refuse, so he sighed. Standing up from the couch, he crossed over to Carl and took the star. "Just right on top?" Rook asked with uncertainty, eyeing the shoddy-looking base. It didn't look like it would stand up straight at all.

"You betcha." Carl gestured at the tree. "She's all yours, Rook."

Rook didn't think that trees were gendered in the English language, but he didn't comment on it. Star in hand, he reached up to the top of the tree and carefully — very carefully — placed the star on top. It didn't stand straight, as Rook predicted, but funnily enough, he didn't feel the need to correct it. There was a semi-sarcastic smattering of applause as Ben stepped back and looked at his handiwork. Garland haphazardly clung to the tree crookedly, and homemade ornaments made it look far from professional… But in a lot of ways, Rook thought that it looked better anyway. So what if the star was crooked? It was fitting right in.

"Good job, Rook," Ben said. He used his phone to snap a picture right as Rook turned around, no doubt capturing his expression with that look of puzzlement. "I'm gonna send this to Gwen and Kevin. Maybe we really should have waited for them to get here, just so you could show Kevin how to decorate correctly."

That seemed like a bit of a stretch when all Rook did was put a star on top of a plastic tree, but he chose not to comment. There was no need to turn it into a debate.

"Now we do the outside of the house," Carl announced, putting the empty ornament boxes away. "Rook, you can come outside with me and Ben or you can stay and do the living room with Sandra."

"It's a bit of a competition," Sandra said conspiratorially, leaning in closer to Rook as she pretended to whisper. "We try to surprise each other and see who can make the most improvement from year to year."

"And this year, we're gonna win," Ben boasted proudly.

Carl nodded in agreement, looking confident. "Sandra's won the last three years in a row," he explained to Rook.

Some friendly competition sounded fun. Just what Rook needed to get his mind off of Ben. "What do the winners get?" He asked.

Ben grinned. "The most humiliating reward for the other team possible: year-round bragging rights."

"It's an argument killer." Sandra threw in a wink. "It's hard to recover after being called a bad decorator."

"Ugh, don't remind me." Ben pretended to shudder at some awful memory, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the grin on his face. "So, what do you think, Rook? Are you in or out? Don't worry about the sides being evenly balanced. We once did the outside with Grandpa, Kevin, and Gwen, and mom still won." He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "I swear she's cheating, somehow. I just haven't been able to prove it yet."

Sandra grinned playfully. "No one likes a sore loser, Ben," she chastised.

With reassurance from Sandra and some more nudging from Ben, all bets were off. Rook got his jacket and scarf back on while Ben and Carl huddled winter jackets around their pajamas, and then they were back outside. It wasn't that cold, but the wind was certainly biting.

Rook stared at the horizon with the knowledge that, just a few miles away, peoples' homes and livelihoods were going up in flames. And he didn't care. He didn't care at all, because Ben was fine. He was standing right there next to Rook, untangling strings of Christmas lights as he passed them up to his dad and Rook held the ladder steady.

They took a break for lunch, where Sandra threw together some sandwiches for them so that Ben and Rook wouldn't wreck the kitchen again, then it was back outside. A lot of the houses on the block were already decorated with blow-ups and strings of turned-off lights.

"I wish it had snowed," Ben remarked with a sigh. He draped a net-like string of lights over one of the bushes outside the front of his house, fumbling to find the plug-in that they needed to connect to the extension cord. "It snowed here, once, when I was really little. Everything looks so much more Christmas-y when it's snowy."

That information was stored away for later. Rook figured that he could do something about that, no matter how difficult. The Highbreed could manipulate weather patterns, couldn't they? And they practically worshipped Ben thanks to the leadership of their new Highbreed Supreme. Maybe Rook could call in a favor…? But on such short notice, that didn't seem likely to happen.

He pulled his head out of intergalactic politics and settled for a nod. "Snow on Earth is much more common than it is on Revonnah. On my planet, snow is one of the signs of the End of Days."

Ben chuckled. "It might as well be here, too. If it snows in California, people will shut down schools and work for a week." He stepped back to eye his work, a bush strung through with lights. "What do you think, Rook? Does it need some garland, maybe?"

"In situations as dubious as this, I always think that garland is a safe bet," Rook said seriously. He barely understood what garland was, but saying that made Ben laugh, and that was the important part.

Decorating the outside of the house ended up taking several hours. By the time they were done, lights lined the roof, the windows, the plants, and up the walk-way. Carl had dug out an old Santa blow-up doll and placed it in their yard, to much fanfare from Ben. They had decorative stickers on the door and the windows and the mailbox. The garlands, which turned out to be those shiny gold and silver wreaths that Rook had seen them put on their tree earlier, added a nice pop of color during the day when the lights were off.

Of course, Sandra ended up winning, anyway. Somehow, she had transformed the living room single-handedly. She'd swapped out family photos for ones that had been taken around Christmas over the course of almost two decades, had threaded lights across every available surface, and even managed to hang little candy canes and snowflakes and leftover ornaments from the ceiling.

Rook never did learn much about Christmas. But he did learn an awful lot about decorating. He just wished that it wasn't all going to be gone in the morning. It was all beautiful, and Ben's family looked so happy… And yet, the only one who would remember it was him. It wasn't fair.

Dinner was quiet since everyone was tired from the day. Rook was surprised that he was invited to join, though he didn't refuse. He was prepared to leave once they were done, but as soon as he got near the front door, there was a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you leaving?" Ben asked. He had an odd expression on his face, one that Rook couldn't place.

Still, something about his tone told Rook that leaving was the wrong choice. He hesitated. "...I assumed that you would want to spend the rest of the evening with your parents," Rook said carefully. Sandra and Carl were in the kitchen still, out of earshot so long as Ben and Rook kept their voices low. For now, they were alone.

"Oh." Ben seemed surprised. "Rook, this isn't about just my parents. You think I didn't have just as much fun with you as I did them?" He lowered his hand. "You know, I always liked Christmas because it wasn't just about family. It's about friends. All the people in your life that you can't imagine being without. I remember spending Christmas with Kevin, and Julie whenever we were…" He trailed off, stumbling over the remnants of some painful memory that he still wasn't quite ready to talk about. Ben's face was pinched. "Anyway, I think you should stay. I know we've still got a week until it's actually Christmas, but we can lay out some sleeping bags on my floor and— And, I don't know, just talk. I guess." He bit his lip nervously. "Is that dumb?"

The logical part of Rook's mind said to refuse. Just like he had the day before, he knew that spending the day with Ben would only lead to more disappointment. If he woke up and he was alone again, Rook was going to feel awful. But he stared at Ben and couldn't find the will-power to form the word "no."

Because Ben looked so insecure. It wasn't a look that sat right on his face, pulling the creases of his smile lines unnaturally. Ben was confident and cocky, he wasn't supposed to be unsure or hesitant. Maybe even a little bit scared. What he was asking Rook for was more than a little bit childish but, when he thought about it, Rook had to wonder how often Ben had gotten to be a child. Certainly, not often enough. It must have been difficult, growing up with the fate of the universe on his shoulders. Rook's most daunting responsibility as a child had been helping his father keep the muroids out of the silos.

What other option did he have, really? Rook lost all common sense when Ben looked at him like that. Or at all.

"It is not dumb," Rook assured him, turning away from the door. "Of course I will stay for the night."

The change in Ben's attitude was immediate, like flicking a switch. He brightened considerably as if he'd never been upset at all. "Okay, cool! Lemme just go see if I can find the sleeping bags. I haven't used them in forever."

Rook trailed along to Ben's room, where he tore through his closet to find the fabled sleeping bags. As messy as the room already was, it didn't make much of a difference. Eventually, Ben had to concede defeat, admitting that he couldn't find them. They improvised, using blankets and pillows on the floor in a huge nest that took up as much space as they could.

It brought back fond memories of doing the same thing with his younger sisters, back when they'd all still shared one room. And then, as Rook aged, showing Young One how to do it so that they could listen to tesser bursts about Ben 10's adventures in secret. Blanket forts made it very easy to hide the radio if Da or Bralla suddenly decided to check on them.

As energetic as Ben was, Rook was surprised when, as soon as they finished, Ben flopped down and snuggled into the blankets. Or, maybe it shouldn't have surprised him, knowing how little sleep Ben got. A day without an adrenaline rush had to leave him feeling light-headed and achingly exhausted.

Since he hadn't brought pajamas, Rook just stripped down to his shirt and boxers before laying down. He'd never done this with someone who wasn't related to him, so Rook was expecting there to be some awkwardness, but there wasn't. He rolled over onto his side to look at Ben and felt perfectly at home.

Ben, on the other hand, barely seemed to care that Rook was there at all. He buried his face in a pillow and let out a long sigh. When he lifted his head to look at Rook again, his eyes were heavy and tired. "Guess we'll have to get back on patrol tomorrow, huh?" He muffled a yawn. "Hope Grandpa Max doesn't mind us being a little late… We'll have to drive back to base and get your armor and Proto-Tool."

It was impossible to care any less about patrol than Rook already didn't. He hummed, only half-listening. He wanted to run a hand down Ben's back or his arm, see if it lessened some of the tension that had been building up over years and years. "What if we didn't have to do patrol?" He asked. "What would you want to do tomorrow, Ben, if you could do anything?"

There was a short laugh. Ben turned over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. The residue of old glow-in-the-dark star stickers that he'd peeled off still clung to the plaster. "I don't know. Um, I guess probably something for charity." He folded his arms behind his head as he explained. "When I was in middle school, mom and dad would do this thing around Thanksgiving or Christmas where I picked a charity and we volunteered there. We mostly did food banks. Then when I got older, I started to have less free time, and then with the Omnitrix and all that… I guess we just forgot to do it for a few years." Ben shrugged. "I think this year, I'd like to do something for kids. I've always had a soft spot for kids."

Rook smiled fondly. "I will see what I can do."

It seemed like, by then, Ben wasn't listening anymore. He had his eyes closed, his breathing evening out. His lips moved as he mumbled something unintelligible, then Ben was still. Rook chose not to bother him. It was only seven in the evening, but Ben deserved the rest.

Though Rook wasn't tired, and wouldn't be for a while, he made no move to get up. He got comfortable, laying on his side to watch Ben. He was no closer to discovering the meaning behind the time loop or how to fix it, but that was okay. He could spend the rest of eternity making Ben happy.

Reaching over, Rook laid his hand carefully over Ben's, fingers curling around his bare wrist. The steady thrum of Ben's heartbeat played along his fingertips, Ben's breathing falling into time with it.

"Today was a good day," he whispered to no one. To Ben, maybe. "Tomorrow will be even better."

A/N: Okay, I admit it, I based a lot of this chapter on my own nostalgia for Christmas and the traditions my family does. It hasn't changed much over the years, but as I've aged, I feel like it's lost some of its magic for me. Or maybe I'm just too different to enjoy it as much as I did as a child.

Either way, this was a self-indulgent chapter to write for December. The next one should be more exciting, so I hope you all aren't getting too comfy with all of this fluff! Happy holidays, all, and see you in another month.