A/N: Song recommendations: Would You Be So Kind by dodie, Fools by Lauren Aquilina, Lover Is A Day by Cuco, Haven't Had Enough by Marianas Trench, and The Thoughts That Give Me The Creeps by Hellogoodbye.

I really wanted to finish this fic by the end of the year, marking its two-year anniversary, but then my cat died a few days ago and… I don't want any comments about well-wishes or "thoughts and prayers" (if you're going to comment, comment about the content in this chapter, or don't say anything at all) but I hope that you all will continue to be patient and keep providing feedback. I'm only posting this chapter because I was a thousand words away from finishing it and I thought that forcing myself to do something after two days of wallowing in bed and not eating might help me get back into the swing of things.

So, your enthusiasm gives me enthusiasm, and I appreciate all of the comments. I'll see what I can do about the next chapter, but I make no promises that it will be soon.

For the first time since the loop started, Rook dreamt.

In his dream, he and Ben were sitting in a blend of the Tennyson household and the home on Revonnah where Rook grew up. There was a flat-screen television and they were seated on a couch that's frame had been carved of amber ogia resin and been covered with muroid pelts. Both of them were dressed in common, uncomfortable Revonnahgander garb, best suited for fieldwork. The plain, wooden walls were decorated with traditional religious fixtures and family photos; some of which were lifted from Ben's home in the real world and some that were memories Rook had of his childhood. There were none of himself and Ben.

Something about that troubled him in his dream. He roused Ben, who was dosing with his head on Rook's lap, and said, "Why do we not have any photos together?"

Ben smiled. Or maybe he frowned. Rook couldn't tell. "It all happened so fast. I guess that you never really stopped to appreciate it." He tilted his head. "We have the same good side, too. Our photos would look awkward."

Rook felt like he should know what Ben was talking about, but the meaning escaped him. His brow furrowed in confusion. Ignoring the joke, he asked, "What do you mean? What happened so fast?" He looked down at himself. At some point, both of their outfits had changed, and they were wearing traditional Revonnah wedding attire. He sort of thought that Ben looked handsome, maybe, but no matter how Rook squinted, Ben's details stayed fuzzy and out of focus. Almost as if Rook was looking at him through dirty glass.

That same smile stayed on Ben's face. It looked painted on. "Us," he replied. He slid into Rook's lap, one arm winding around Rook's neck while the other hand tilted their faces closer together. Their noses brushed and, despite his confusion, Rook automatically reached up to hold Ben's waist. "Do not tell me that you have forgotten already, Blonko. It was a lovely ceremony." Ben giggled and Rook felt relaxed. He closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the embrace; let Ben kiss him.

He didn't think to ask where they were, or why Ben was speaking so formally, or to press for more details about the photo that had troubled him so much before. When Ben pressed against him more solidly, his details finally snapped into place. With Ben's hands untying his robe, Rook pressed his teeth into Ben's neck just to hear him groan. Their hips rolled together and Rook grabbed Ben's ass to pull him closer, working each other up in short, clumsy stutters.

"Well?" Ben asked, breathless.

At that point, Rook was barely paying attention. It took him several seconds to realize that he'd been asked a question. "Well, what?" He glanced up at Ben.

Suddenly, the smile that had been so comforting seemed wicked. As Ben shifted back, the sleeves of his robe rolled up, and Rook finally noticed that Ben's wrist was bare. The Omnitrix was nowhere to be seen. Ben's eyes turned flat and lifeless, his chest caved in and his leg mangled at an unnatural angle and blood dripping down the side of his face. His fingers sank into Rook's neck until he couldn't breathe. "You finally got exactly what you always wanted from me. Am I good enough for you yet?"

Öyleyse iki mezar kaz, çünkü öldüğünde,
yemin ederim yanından ayrıl—

The sound of his alarm accompanied Rook hitting the ground. He blinked, hard, rubbing his hand across his face with a groan. Bits of his dream floated back to him. Mostly snippets of what had been said, as well as the ghost of Ben's hands along his fur. Rook felt sweat-soaked and cold.

"You finally got exactly what you always wanted from me." What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Rook sat up and untangled his legs from the bedsheets. He turned his alarm off and then made his bed mindlessly, putting the blankets back into place with slow, distracted movements. It wasn't like Rook had never had a wet dream before. He could have handled it if it was just kissing Ben. But this was different. He felt…

Guilty.

He bit his lip thoughtfully. Oh, hell. What was he guilty for this time? He'd made so many mistakes recently that it was getting hard to keep track.

Regardless, Rook was wide-awake now. He could think about it while he was going through his routine. A cold shower sounded like a great idea.

He did his best not to think about all that he still didn't know about human anatomy. Rook succeeded, somewhat. It was hard not to think about it since he was in the shower and had already been thinking about Ben. Maybe he could look it up? Nothing pornographic, but surely there was no harm in anatomical drawings, just to sate his curiosity.

Ultimately, Rook decided not to. He stepped out of the shower and brushed his fur dry, staring vacantly into the mirror. It wasn't like he had any right to be thinking about or dreaming of Ben in provocative positions, to begin with. They weren't dating. Ben wasn't interested in him. Filling in that gap in his imagination would only give his subconscious more to work with, and that was the last thing that Rook wanted.

He went red beneath his fur. Shaking his head, Rook smacked himself across the face twice, just hard enough to sting. "None of that," he told his reflection, gripping the sides of the sink. "Ben wants a purely platonic relationship from you and that is exactly what you are going to give him. You told him how you felt and he rejected you. You have closure, so—" He faltered. "So, why do I still feel…?"

Rook trailed off, leaving the question open-ended. Guilt came back to him again, this time for a different reason: not for thinking of Ben romantically or sexually even after rejection, but for daring to crush on him in the first place.

Was it vain of him, to have these feelings? Was it selfish? There was so much more going on than just himself. Rook should be focusing on breaking the time loop, not making waffles and buying flowers and drinking smoothies. But he couldn't control his feelings. None of this was his fault.

Or was that just an excuse to shove off the blame and keep living in this stupid fantasy world?

He wasn't an idiot. In some ways, Rook realized that this was an ideal setup. Nothing would ever change. It would just be him and Ben, forever, if that was what Rook wanted to do with his day.

Come to think of it, Rook had been inserting himself into Ben's day a lot. He kept asking what Ben wanted to do, but maybe Ben's answer would be different if Rook didn't automatically include himself in the day's activity. Maybe Ben didn't want him around all the time.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed staring into the mirror before Rook finally forced himself to pull away. He still needed to talk to Magister Tennyson about getting the day off. And maybe get something to eat, since he had some time to kill and it would keep his hands busy.

After he left his room, Rook stopped by the central hub. Magister Tennyson had finished his coffee by the time that Rook approached him to ask for the day off, but their conversation remained unchanged. It was like reading from a script. As long as Rook said the right things, he knew exactly how other people would reply.

He stared after Magister Tennyson long after he had walked away from Rook and wondered when he had stopped considering everyone else to be people.

No, maybe that wasn't quite right. It wasn't that they weren't people — it was just that they weren't as important as they had once been.

Not even that! Rook had finally pieced it together: no one was as important as he had once convinced himself that they were. Maybe that made Rook a bad person, having favorites. He didn't care anymore. He was done lying, especially to himself.

At some point in the last two weeks, Ben had become the most important person in his life. Rook was okay with that.

He shook his head; chuckled to himself at the through. Two weeks already? Time sure seemed to pass quickly when it was standing still. Rook left the hub with a smile on his face and headed for the cafeteria.

After he'd slowly eaten and wasted more time sitting in the Proto-TRUK until it was time for him to arrive at Ben's house, Rook left. He thought about stopping and getting some clothes again at a store, but he didn't want to bother this time around. His Proto-Armor and Proto-Tool would service him fine. Just in case. The idea that Ben might wander his way back over to that burning building again, despite Rook's best efforts, did not escape him.

Parking the TRUK outside of the Tennyson residence, Rook drummed his fingers against the wheel in thought, glancing between the front door and his dashboard. Rook frowned. His dream came back to him — images of Ben red-faced and wanting, covered in blood and his words like a threat. Maybe, this time, it would be better if he gave Ben the day alone. But what if Ben got himself hurt? Did it matter? He would be fine in the morning, anyway.

Rook was ripped from his thoughts when the passenger door was opened. Apparently, he'd missed Ben exiting his house and crossing the lawn. "Don't—" Rook started to tell Ben not to get into the TRUK, and was instead cut off when an apple smacked him across the jaw.

"Oh, shit." Ben scrambled onto the passenger seat, kneeling and gently pressing his fingers along Rook's jaw. "I'm so sorry, Rook, I thought you were paying attention. You're normally so good with your reflexes." His eyes flickered up towards Rook's, wide and worried. "It's not going to bruise, right? I mean, it was barely a toss. You good? You look kind of spacey."

Slowly, Rook nodded. He almost reached up to feel his jaw, then thought better of it, wanting to prologue Ben's contact with his skin for as long as possible. "Yes, I am fine. My apologies. I was distracted," Rook offered lamely.

Ben scrutinized him a moment more, then bent down to grab the apple where it had landed at Rook's feet. "Well, it's not like I was going to eat this anyway," he sighed, placing the apple in Rook's cup holder. He drew his seatbelt into place while Rook was still trying to figure out how to protest. "What's on your mind, partner? It normally takes a lot to get you rattled."

For a second, Rook wasn't sure how to answer. He hesitated, then settled on the truth. "I talked to Magister Tennyson this morning and convinced him to give us the day off. I was just thinking about what sort of activity to do with the free time." He paused. "Something that we have not done before, perhaps?" Like spend the day without each other.

"The day off? Sweet!" Ben pumped his fist in excitement. "Oh, if you want something we haven't done before, there's this new arcade that opened up near us. It's got a bowling alley, too, and rock climbing walls. Oh, and bumper cars! Man, I can't remember the last time I was on bumper cars. I think it was—"

"Ben." The weirdness of this conversation got to be too much and Rook had to interrupt him. He couldn't understand. "That all sounds wonderful, but would you not rather spend the day with someone else? Perhaps Ester? It sounds like a promising date," he suggested.

Now it was Ben's turn to be confused. His smile slipped. "Ester?" Ben echoed, as if he'd never heard his girlfriend's name before. He shifted in discomfort. "To be honest, I've kind of been avoiding her," he admitted.

All Rook could do was stare. "Why?" He managed.

"Because—" Ben grunted in frustration. "Look, maybe "avoid" is the wrong word. I've been limiting how many dates we go on. It just feels like— She's too enthusiastic, I guess?" Ben tried. Seeing the look Rook was giving him, he backpedaled to start over. "Okay, so Ester is the leader of the Kraaho, right? It's a really busy job. But sometimes I get the feeling that she's ignoring it to try and spend more time with me. And I appreciate the interest, I guess, but… I don't know." Ben sighed, glaring out the window. "It reminds me of Julie. Like Ester is taking our relationship too seriously and putting too much pressure on me to hurry up. I'm not saying that I'm not committed to her, but I'm not— I'm not in love with her, alright? I like Ester, a lot! She's smart and a good fighter and she's witty and brave and she's so pretty, but even though she's important to me, I just get the feeling that she loves me more than I love her. Which I guess makes sense, since she was a fan before we even met. But now I feel like I'm caught between who she always thought I would be and who I am, and she's got all of these expectations—" He made a frustrated gesture with his hands, and the look that Ben shot at Rook was nothing short of pleading. "Is this making any sense?"

Guilt burned like bile as Rook swallowed it. He slowly nodded. "Yes. It makes perfect sense, Ben."

"Am I good enough for you yet?"

Unable to keep looking Ben in the eyes, Rook turned away and started the TRUK. "So," he cleared his throat as they pulled away from the curb. "Where is that arcade you were talking about?"

Ben grinned, visibly relieved. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, and gave instructions.

Although Rook had played a video game or two in public with Ben before, he had never been to an arcade. It said a lot that he had been on Earth for nearly a year and could count their leisure days on one hand and still have fingers left over. The arcade itself was called Wham! (and, as Ben insisted, the exclamation mark was important) and located toward the edge of Bellwood's city limits. Despite the out-of-the-way drive, as well as the early hour, it was busy when Rook parked the TRUK outside.

"It's a good thing that we're doing this on a Thursday," Ben remarked as he climbed out. "All of the teenagers and parents are in school or working. We'll practically have the whole place to ourselves."

Rook wasn't sure how the parking lot being half-full translated to, "We'll have the whole place to ourselves," but he just nodded and decided to take Ben's word for it. He left his Proto-Tool in the TRUK and followed Ben.

As it turned out, Wham! Was fairly empty when they stepped inside. "Most of those cars are probably here for a birthday or event," Ben reasoned as he led the way to the ticket counter. "So there probably won't be enough people around for us to play laser tag until later in the afternoon. But if it's any consolation, don't worry." Ben puffed his chest up proudly. "Doesn't matter how many people we play with. I'll still kick your ass."

"Really?" Rook made a noise of disbelief. "I have spent years studying marksmanship specifically with laser-based technology. I do not believe that you—"

"Hold that thought, partner." Ben cut him off with a grin to talk to the bored-looking teenager working the desk. "Two all-access passes, please," he said.

Once their transaction was complete, Rook was given a paper band with a QR code that was tied around his right hand. Before he could ask about what, exactly, was included in an "all-access pass," Ben was already tugging him along.

"Let's start with some bowling," he said. "But, I should warn you. I'm pretty good."

After bowling three rounds, Rook could safely say that Ben was not good at bowling. But neither was Rook, and Ben's experience allowed him to win all three rounds by narrow margins.

"This game does not make any sense," Rook explained, irate, for what must have been the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. It was sort of refreshing to be upset over something so trivial after the way his life had been recently. He had his arms crossed and his legs folded where he was sitting on one of the couches at their lane. "Who decided that three strikes in a row should be called a "turkey"? Furthermore, the points system is nonsensical. Why should not getting a strike be rewarded? Spares simply reward people who are bad at the game." Rook resisted the urge to add, "like you," and instead said, "While we are on the subject, I do not appreciate that the computer has to inform me every time I get a split. I am aware that I have a split. I can see it."

Ben was holding his bowling ball balanced on his hip, standing in front of him and munching on the basket of fries they had ordered. He was nodding along as if he was listening, but Rook was mostly sure that Ben was just entertaining Rook's rant so that he could stand there polishing off their fry basket. "Yeah, no. I get what you're saying, dude. The turkey thing is stupid, I agree. That being said…" Ben grinned. "You just lost four rounds in a row."

And then Ben took his turn, cementing in that Rook had, in fact, lost four rounds in a row.

Rook hated bowling.

Thankfully, the arcade had plenty of other things to do. Ben had purchased a game card and got it into his head that he needed to play every game in the arcade at least once. They had everything from basketball to air hockey, Pac-Man to Connect 4, racing games to shooting games.

Unsurprisingly, Rook performed best at shooting. Even though the plastic guns had sticky triggers and virtually no means of accurately aiming, he ended up scoring the jackpot of two hundred tickets. It was while Ben was collecting them, grabbing them as they came out and folding them over each other in long strips, that Rook ran a hand over the brightly-colored fake gun and chuckled.

Ben was grinning, too. "Something on your mind?" He asked without looking up. There was already a sizeable wad of tickets in his pocket.

"Nothing too important." Rook shook his head. "I have just been thinking of home." He glanced around the small, fake shooting range. It was cowboy-themed, and even though Rook knew that it was kind of stupid, the rustic decorations and the desert backdrop reminded him of Revonnah. Or maybe it was using a shoddy gun to shoot small, moving targets that had his thoughts wandering.

Funny. Normally, being reminded of Revonnah made Rook feel nostalgic or homesick. This time, there was a sharp feeling in his gut that he couldn't place, but it made Rook frown.

As time passed, people slowly started to trickle in. Not enough that the lines for attractions were ever full, but enough that, after a lunch of burgers with enough grease to soak the plate, Ben finally coerced Rook into playing against him in a game of laser tag.

The rules were similar to the other shoddy fake-gun games that arcades seemed so fond of. Only, this time, Rook would be aiming at other people instead of pieces of slow-moving plastic. The chest piece with the sensors in it almost didn't fit over his Proto-Armor, and even once Ben helped get it on, it was still noticeably above Rook's waistline. It was a little uncomfortable, but the forcibly-cheery teenager walking them through the process didn't seem to care, so Rook assumed that it wasn't a safety hazard.

The objective of the game was a lot easier for Rook to accept than bowling had been. All he had to do was take out the enemy and lay siege to their base. He had a team of seven others, most of whom were small children, so Rook figured that he would be carrying and looked forward to it. After all, the rules had specified "no running," but they didn't specify that Rook couldn't climb on the structures.

Laser tag, Rook thought, was the best attraction at the arcade. He realized that it probably looked ridiculous to the normal humans on his team, how he contorted himself into safe areas or crouched with his stomach nearly on the ground or hung upside-down by swinging his knees over the railing on the second level, but the results spoke for themselves. Every time he glanced at the scoreboard, the red team was winning by leaps and bounds and Rook had yet to be hit even once. One of the children had started crying, though. Rook didn't particularly care who's team the kid was on.

He almost wondered where Ben was, letting Rook hog the glory like this, but he didn't have to wonder for long. It was while Rook was straightening back up from where he had bent backward over the railing that Ben caught up with him. Rook pulled himself up and landed on his feet, only to go cross-eyed as he stared down the barrel of a plastic, glowing-green gun. At the end of it was Ben's hand, and tracing up his arm, Rook came face-to-face with Ben's trademark shit-eating grin.

"Well, well. Look what we have here," Ben said in a low voice. His expression was meant to be serious, even as his eyes glittered with amusement. "After all that we've been through, I guess that this is the end of the road." Ben made a noise and flicked his thumb like he was pretending to turn the safety off. "Any last words, Blonko?"

Saying Rook's chosen name caused his mind to hit a snag. He almost asked Ben to use it more often, but was that weird? Would that ruin the effect of hearing Ben say it? It made his stomach flutter and leap into his throat. "I…" Rook glanced again at the gun and slowly raised his hands. "Can we not talk about this?" He asked, deciding to play along. "I know that things have been complicated, but the last thing that I ever wanted to do was hurt you. It was a misunderstanding, that's all."

"A misunderstanding?" Ben raised an eyebrow. He fought to keep from smiling and almost caused them both to break character in the process. "You killed my sister! How is that a misunderstanding?"

Rook dared to take a step forward, finger twitching for his own trigger. "Ben, please. I was framed. I am your best friend, I would never—" He stopped before he started laughing and tried again. "I love y—"

He was interrupted when his chest plate lit up white, letting off a high-pitched noise. Rook was too stunned to process for a moment. Ben hadn't shot him, so how—?

As soon as the alarm stopped, Ben shoved his gun into Rook's chest and shot him again. "Got someone to go behind on ground level while I distracted you. Works every time," he said smugly. "Green team rules."

By the time the round ended, three minutes later, the red team still won. But Rook was so embarrassed by his little "performance" with Ben that he couldn't even pretend to brag. Not that he needed to. Ben had more than enough ego for both of them.

They did a few more rounds of laser tag, some on the same team and some against each other, but none of them ended up quite as eventful as the first one. Rook figured that something inside of him was broken. Because for a few seconds there, he had thought that Ben pointing a gun at him was incredibly attractive.

After Ben insisted on getting an appetizer platter for a "snack," which was far too much food for both of them and far too overpriced, they returned to the arcade section. This time, not for playing games.

Ben dragged him into a photo booth. "You pick from these stereotypes," he explained, pointing to the screen where Rook could see an appropriately stereotypical sassy diva and homosexual man (among other things), "and then you follow the instructions and do the poses they tell you to make. Then you can pick the border and add stickers, and it prints out two photo reels for us to keep."

Any protest that Rook had been about to make died at the word "photo."

"Why do we not have any photos together?"

"I guess that you never really stopped to appreciate it."

He pursed his lips and nodded once. "It sounds easy enough," Rook agreed.

And it was easy, as it turned out. Rook didn't understand a lot of the "stereotypes," although he recognized over-embellished mannerisms and bad acting. He copied the poses that they were told to do, although the angle of the camera meant that Rook had to bend his legs to be in the frame.

The first three photos concluded and, for the last one, they were told to do something "spontaneous" and "fun." Essentially, to make up a pose. Rook thought about it for longer than he probably should have, given that they only had five seconds to decide. He glanced at Ben, blurry scenes from his dream still tumbling around in his mind. And at the last second, Rook leaned over and kissed Ben on the cheek.

Doing so immediately caused Ben's pose to break, which made Rook snort with laughter when he saw the result shown back to them. There was no option to redo a picture, so Ben just mumbled something about Rook being a jerk and picked out the border for their photo strip. He went with one that was mostly pink and covered in bubble font, aptly titled "BFFs."

Rook didn't think anything of it. Until, at least, they got out of the photo booth. Ben collected both photo strips from a slot in the side and, instead of handing one of the copies to Rook, turned awkward and hesitant.

"I, uh…" Ben cleared his throat. "Why did you, um, do that? Kiss me on the cheek, I mean."

Then it was Rook's turn to freeze up. His mind raced through all of the ways that he could have done something wrong or misinterpreted human culture. Again. "I was under the impression that it was normal for friends," he said slowly. "On my planet, kisses on the cheek are done with platonic or familial intent. I am sorry if I overstepped any boundaries."

He thought that humans saw it the same way. Rook had seen parents kiss their children on the cheek in movies and on the streets, and usually, romantic couples were doing a little more than cheek kissing.

It had seemed like a nice, middle-ground to Rook. Like a living room with Ben's game console and a sofa that his father had hand-carved. That, and Ben was clearly lacking in physical affection. Of the non-romantic variety. Even if Ben wouldn't remember this, it was important to Rook that he did his best to be a good friend and to become a person that he actually wanted to see in the mirror. So Rook was going to give Ben hugs and shoulder pats and hold his hand. Permitted that Ben wasn't uncomfortable with it, of course.

"Oh, no! Sorry, it's not that, I just—" Ben gave him a little half-smile as he finally handed over the photo strip to Rook. "I wasn't expecting it, I guess. I usually see it as a romantic gesture when people who aren't related do it, but it makes sense when you say it like that. You're like a brother to me, Rook," he said with a grin.

Instead of the pain that he was expecting, all Rook felt was pride, at the idea that he was good enough for Ben to consider so highly. "Thank you, Ben," was all he said, because saying that Rook returned the sentiment would have been a lie. And Rook was done lying.

They went on a few more of the attractions, like the rock-climbing wall and the bumper cars and the go-karts (which Rook barely fit into because of how long his legs were), and after that, Ben decided to cash in their tickets before calling it a day. Ben picked out a t-shirt with the Wham! logo on it for Rook to wear over his armor and got himself a green lava lamp.

"Do you not already have a lava lamp?" Rook asked as they left the arcade. His shirt was the largest size they had, so while it reached Rook's waist properly, the sleeves were twice as baggy as they should be and the fit was all wrong. He loved it.

Ben shrugged, the box with his lava lamp tucked under one arm. "Yeah, but this one is metallic. The texture of the lava just looks really cool to me, you know?"

As a matter of fact, Rook did not know. But he chose not to comment as he unlocked the TRUK and climbed in. "So, back to your home for dinner?" He guessed.

"You know it." Ben slid into his seat and buckled himself in. "After all the grease we've eaten today, I'm almost excited for my mom's juice concoctions. Almost."

Rook laughed, and their conversation stayed light-hearted on the drive back. It was a good day, Rook thought, although not particularly eventful. He felt like he had finally puzzled out the meaning of his dream: the guilt that he felt.

Guilt for having the audacity to love Ben in the first place, of course, but also guilt for how he loved Ben. Selfishly. Before they met, at the Plumber's Academy, their first month as partners… All Rook had ever done was put Ben up on a pedestal. And then when the real person failed to meet the expectations of the fairy tale Rook had written in his head, he had been disappointed — as if he had any right to feel that way when Ben had never owed him anything.

Even after Rook had told himself that he'd gotten over his "hero worship," he hadn't noticed his partner being replaced by an entirely different person. It had been months and months ago, but Albedo's words from their first face-to-face encounter still rang in his head.

"You were so star-struck by your hero. You wanted so badly to believe that "The Great Ben Tennyson" would take your advice and better himself."

His own arrogance made Rook's blood boil. The idea that he, a rookie Plumber with no experience and no remarkable achievements and no personality aside from being a perfect soldier, could have taught Ben anything was laughable.

And he was still doing it, thinking about all of these "what ifs" for if he and Ben were dating. If he could get Ben to fall in love with him, if they could be physical with each other, if they could get married and live Rook's idea of a perfect life. He was an adrenaline junkie too, but until his dream, Rook had never realized that he subconsciously despised the Omnitrix and all of Ben's responsibilities.

It was no wonder that he resented it, really. Considering the fact that Ben had died because of it.

Fingers snapped in front of his face, breaking Rook from his train of thought. He blinked and looked over at Ben, staring at him with a worried smile from the passenger seat. Rook finally realized that they were parked outside of Ben's house and likely had been for a while now. He turned red beneath his fur.

"You okay, man?" Ben asked. "You've been staring off into space and all you've done for the last ten minutes is nod and say, "uh-huh" a lot. Something wrong?"

Rook stared at him. It was okay for him to have his resentments and expectations; as long as he acknowledged that they were flaws and did his best to overcome them. It made him feel better, in a round-a-bout way. He had promised Ben yesterday to better himself, but now Rook finally had a blueprint for how to do that.

"Yes. There is something wrong," Rook admitted. "But it is something that has been wrong for a long time and I am doing my best to fix it."

Ben gave him a funny look. "That could not be more vague if you tried," he said finally. Then he sighed. "Well, if you're good, I'm going to head inside. You'll call me if you need something, right? Even just to talk?" He asked, already reaching for the door handle.

"Of course." Rook nodded, and his confirmation made Ben relax.

Then, surprising him, Ben leaned over and kissed Rook on the cheek. He made a face. "That's still weird," Ben declared, but his tone was light-hearted and he didn't seem bothered by something being a little out of the ordinary. He was gone before Rook could reply.

Once Ben disappeared inside of his house, Rook forced himself to leave, driving the TRUK back to the Plumber base. He wasn't sure what he would do with the rest of his day, since it was only five. Come to think of it, Rook didn't really have any hobbies, did he? Not anything that didn't relate to his job, like mechanics or working out or going shooting. The only time he had gone to a car show for fun was when Kevin dragged him to one, and that dissolved into work fairly quickly. Maybe he would look at some videos on cars, even if they were just reviews of human vehicle brands or something.

Regardless, Rook arrived back at the Plumber base and stopped by the cafeteria to get a protein bar. He wasn't hungry, but even though he knew the food would be negated in the morning, he had eaten plenty of unhealthy human food at the arcade and it didn't settle right in Rook's stomach. He got a few odd looks at his shirt, but no one commented and he didn't feel like stopping to talk, anyway. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have done a lot of things.

With his mood rapidly sinking through the floor, Rook retired to his room. He shrugged his Wham! shirt off and held it up, looking at it with a frown. For a lack of anything better to do with the shirt, Rook folded it up and draped it across his nightstand. He dug the photo strip from the arcade out of his pocket and set it next to the shirt before going about the rest of his routine, getting comfortable and putting the Proto-Tool away.

After stripping down to his underwear, Rook sat on the edge of his bed and held his head in his hands for a moment. He sighed, feeling listless and unable to do anything about it and hating every second of it. He glanced over at the photo and, with nothing better to do, picked it up.

Rook stared at the photo with a fond smile, enjoying the way that Ben had been goofing off in the first three pictures and the look of surprise when Rook had kissed him on the cheek in the last frame. A part of him burned at the notion that Ben would have any reason to be surprised by physical affection, but Rook figured that Ben had had problems with that even before they met. His closest friend before they were partners was Kevin, and Kevin was about as cuddly as a cactus. Even Gwendolyn seemed to prefer giving Ben his personal space. Ester was plenty comfortable with affection, but Ben didn't see her very often, and affection with romantic intent was very different from what your friends could offer.

Maybe it was because of their conversation earlier, but Rook was struck by the thought that his parents wouldn't approve. Putting an arm around Ben's shoulders, or ruffling his hair, or kissing his cheek, or holding his hand… All of those things would be met with up-turned noses and a hushed reminder to conduct himself appropriately in public. Rook found himself grimacing over the imaginary reprimands. And he decided, with a startling amount of ease, that he didn't care at all if his parents approved or not.

Reaching over, Rook grabbed the picture frame that Ben had gotten him. He knew that it would be empty again in the morning but, at least for one day, he put the photo strip inside of it. It didn't fit, obviously, so Rook had to leave the back loose for the top edge to stick out, but he found it sort of charming.

Rook laid down, turning on his side and angling the frame so that he could see it. He touched a hand to the image of Ben's flustered expression and sighed before rolling over on his back.

Staring at the ceiling, Rook reached a decision. Even though it wouldn't matter to anyone except for himself, he needed some sort of closure. He couldn't keep thinking about how his parents might react or what Rayona might say.

In the morning, he needed to visit Revonnah.

But before he did that, he forced himself to get up, grab his tablet, and opened a browser. He watched random videos that caught his interest until he was too tired to keep his eyes open and dozed off during an instruction video on different stitching patterns.

A/N: I wrote the dream and picture stuff with a lot of symbolism in mind, but I'm not going to explain it because it's kind of boring. So I hope you guys can pick up on that for yourselves.