I do not own the Ben Ten franchise.
A Much Needed Lesson
The sun was setting by the time Azmuth arrived on primitive planet Earth. The Galvan was engulfed by a warm orange glow as the orb sunk in the horizon, a pleasant evening that he would not get to enjoy. He pocketed his teleportation remote and started across the grassy clearing, where Max's Rust Bucket was parked for the night.
A bright bolt of blue electricity caught his attention and he paused, turning to stare at the source. It hardly surprised him to see Ben Tennyson goofing off as the Conductoid he had deemed Feedback. This was, after all, the very reason he had come to Earth.
Although, if he was to be honest, the only reason he ever had for coming to Earth was the young Tennyson.
Shaking his head, Azmuth continued on, leaving the boy to his fun. He reached the door to the R.V. and gave a few knocks. The door opened only a second later and Max peered out in curiosity. "Uh…"
"Down here," he called.
Max glanced down and his eyes widened with surprise. "Azmuth? What are you doing here?"
"Why am I always here?" he returned, pointing in the direction of the abandoned car junkyard where Ben was playing. Max eyed his grandson before letting out a sigh and stepping aside. Azmuth hopped into the Rust Bucket and walked over to the cushioned bench that wrapped around one corner of the R.V.
Gwen glanced up from her novel just as the Galvan got himself seated. "Hi," she greeted. "Are you here about Feedback?"
A slight smile curled across his face. "Ah, so you've noticed as well."
"When the doof used Feedback instead of XLR8 to catch the bank robbers, I figured he was crossing a line," she informed. When her grandfather turned to give her a baffled look, she clarified, "For the past week the only alien Ben's been using is Feedback. And if Azmuth is here, that means that it's unhealthy for Ben to keep using the same alien."
Understanding washed over Max's features. "I see. Do you want me to get him?"
"He'll be here eventually," Azmuth said. "The Omnitrix will time out and he will have no interest in goofing off as any other alien, for his obsession seems to be locked on the Conductoid."
Max nodded and took a seat on the other side of Azmuth. The Galvan tapped his fingers against the worn cushion, in no hurry to confront the eleven-year-old boy. He already knew how Ben would take the news and it would end with him storming out in a fit of anger. It was how the boy reacted to unpleasant information and Azmuth doubted he would mature out of the habit anytime soon.
So why bother coming? his mind demanded, and immediately began creating a mental list of a dozen other more important things he could be doing at that moment.
Before he could come up with a suitable reason, the thin metal door slammed against the wall and Ben barged into the R.V., hands shoved in his pockets and a lazy expression on his face. Upon spotting his family members and mentor staring at him, Ben's posture instantly stiffened into defense mode.
"We need to talk," Max stated grimly.
Green eyes narrowed, focussing on the Galvan. "About what?"
"About Feedback," his grandfather answered. "You're growing too dependent on him and it isn't healthy."
Ben kept his eyes on Azmuth, but the sudden steel in his gaze indicated that he had heard Max. Azmuth stared coolly at the young boy. "If you keep overusing the Conductoid DNA, it's going to have a detrimental effect on your ability to use other forms."
Fists clenched angrily. "Oh, so now you're telling me that I can't use Feedback anymore?" Ben demanded. "I don't think so!"
He twisted on his heel and stormed out. Gwen frowned in disapproval and hurried after her cousin in the hopes of instilling some common sense. Max rubbed his face tiredly. "I'm sorry, Azmuth."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he dismissed. "This is nothing I didn't expect. In fact, I'd have been terribly surprised if he took this well."
"Why didn't you come sooner?" Max wondered. "Normally when something happens to the Omnitrix, you're here in a flash."
A dry smile crossed Azmuth's face. "That is to be expected, isn't it, of someone who has spent centuries working on the perfect creation only to have it fall into the grubby hands of a ten-year old."
Max didn't respond and continued to stare expectantly. Azmuth sighed and said, "I was hoping that he would have enough sense in him to rotate through his aliens. But I should have known better than to expect so much."
The man opened his mouth to respond. But before a syllable could leave his lips a great trembling rocked the Rust Bucket and everything tilted as the Rust Bucket flipped over. Azmuth let out a grunt when his head smacked off the wall as the R.V. slammed to the ground. The cupboards opened up and the contents spilled to the tiled floor with ugly noises.
"I don't suppose this is a result of a tantrum," Azmuth quipped, managing to pull himself into an upright position.
"Not this time," Max answered gravely.
He was about to make his way to the door when the Rust Bucket flew back up and righted itself, sending everything in the mobile home going for another spin. Azmuth dropped to the floor with an annoyed grunt. "This is getting rather tiresome."
"What is going on out there?" Max frowned. He picked Azmuth up and walked over to the window, peering out to see what the cause of the commotion was.
Gwen's scream of horror and Malware's wicked cackle could be heard from inside. Ben, in the form of Feedback, was trapped in Malware's grip. With wide eyes, they could only watch helplessly as Maleware wrapped two fingers tightly around the Omnitrix symbol embedded in Feedback's chest. Red lines raced across Feedback's body and with a mighty rip and a bright flash of red light, Ben was pulled from the form.
"We need to help him!" Max cried.
"No, we don't."
The elderly man stiffened and stared down at the Galvan with disbelief. "Malware just ripped out one of Ben's forms from the Omnitrix! He's harming him and your device!"
"No," he replied, a bit more serenely than Max liked. "He's teaching Ben a much needed lesson."
"Well, this is quite a surprising turn of events," the failed Mechamorph jeered, loud enough for the occupants of the R.V. to hear. He tossed Ben roughly to the ground. "I believe this is your favourite alien form, isn't it, Tennyson? I think it's time you said goodbye."
"Noooooo!" Ben screamed, watching in agony as Feedback turned to red dust and tricked lifelessly out of Malware's grasp.
"I have come for Azmuth, and I would like very much to destroy him with his most treasured creation," Malware declared, turning to face Ben. "Give me the Omnitrix."
Tears dripped down Ben's pale face as he staggered to his feet, breath coming out in pants. His chest burned with fury, regret and angst, for the loss of his most beloved form, the form Malware had stolen from him.
"You want the Omnitrix?" he cried, his voice strangled with hatred. With a trembling hand he twisted the dial until the circuitry beneath was exposed, glowing green with energy. "Take it!"
He plowed his fist right into Malware's chest with a scream that was mixed with despair and rage. Surprised, Malware stumbled back a few steps from the force of Ben's punch. But the surprise lasted only for a second-soon he was consumed by the delightful power of the Omnitrix.
"Yes! Yes! The power of the Omnitrix is finally mine!" Malware cried, relishing in the energy that surged through his programming. "No! Wait! The power is overwhelming me! Stooooop!"
And it was when green volts began to crackle and light up the evening air did Max race outside. "Ben, stop!"
But Ben's eyes were hardened with resolve. He shoved his fist deeper into Malware with a final battle cry. Gwen and Max could only watch in horror as the energy consumed both Ben and Malware, their screams mixing together in a frightening and shiver-inducing duet.
Then Malware exploded, pieces of him flying everywhere. The energy of the Omnitrix condensed into a ball for a split second before it too exploded, sending Ben flying back and crumpling to the ground.
"Ben!" Gwen cried. She and Max raced over to the eleven-year old to see if any harm had befallen him. "Are you okay?"
He could only give the briefest of nods, his head ducked down. "Could you look up for a second, sport?" Max asked gently, wanting to see for himself the state of Ben's health.
The boy continued staring at the ground, body trembling with emotion. He discovered that he couldn't look up, didn't want to, for he knew what he would see-Azmuth's disappointed, and most likely annoyed, gaze. He had disobeyed yet another order from the Galvan and was facing the consequences of his arrogance. Feedback was gone, probably forever, and it was all his-
A warm hand settled on his shoulder but Ben rejected the attempt of comfort, shrugging it off and staggering to his feet. Before anyone could say anything he was charging across the grass and towards the dense forest, tears flowing down his cheeks and his breath coming out in choked gasps.
He ignored the pleas for him to come back and continued running, sneakers pounding against the muddy forest floor. He smacked tree branches out of his way and stumbled over roots. The toe of his shoe caught on the edge of a stone and he slammed into the ground, where he did not make a further move to get up.
For what seemed like forever, the only sounds in the forest were the sounds of his distressed sobbing. And then it was broken by a familiar, no-nonsense voice saying, "You will stop this foolishness this instant."
Slowly, Ben lifted his head from his arms and turned it slightly so that the side of his head was resting against the crook of his arm. Guilt and shame swept through him as his shiny emerald gaze locked with Azmuth's cool onyx stare. "Have you come to say I told you so?" Ben asked bitterly, the final tears snaking along his pale cheeks.
"I should," he agreed. "But I won't. Merely because I fear you will start your blubbering all over again."
A scowl crossed Ben's features. "What? I'm not allowed to cry now?"
"You are allowed to, but that doesn't mean you should." Azmuth folded his hands behind his back. "Crying is not going to change anything that just happened."
"But I just lost Feedback!" Ben said, his voice trembling slightly. "How am I supposed to react to that?"
"With anger, I suppose. But not tears. You need to remember that your alien forms are not real."
A steeliness replaced the tears. "They're real to me. They're more than just alien forms. They're a part of me. When Feedback turned to dust, it felt like something inside me turned to dust with him."
Azmuth could not help but feel a flare of admiration at the firmness in the boy's tone. Ben had always held an affection for his aliens, one that he could not fathom, as the forms were only shadows of their species.
"Feedback was important to you, then?" he asked casually.
Hesitantly, Ben eyed him before giving a slow nod, unsure of where his mentor was going. "Well," Azmuth continued, "you can take something away from this."
"What?" Ben asked, baffled.
"You have lost, Ben Tennyson."
"That's what I'm supposed to take away from this whole mess?" Ben demanded, annoyance and frustrating creeping into his voice.
"Yes. It is not often that you lose, is it?"
"N-no," he admitted, brow creasing as he thought. "No, I don't lose often."
"Then how are you supposed to learn anything if you keep winning?"
Blinking, Ben sat up and stared at the Galvan for a long moment. Azmuth did not interrupt the silence, only watching the deep, speculative expression on the child's face. "I guess I don't," he finally replied. "Learn, I mean. But…what am I supposed to learn from this?"
"That, Tennyson, is for you to discover. Even if it takes you a few years."
There was something in his voice, something that told Ben that it probably would take him a while to understand the lesson from this whole disastrous event. And that that was okay. He still felt horrible about letting Feedback down. He would feel horrible for a long time. But Azmuth had a knowing glint in his gaze, a glint that promised that everything would work out in the end.
"Azmuth? I'm sorry," the boy apologized softly. "I should have listened to you."
"You should have," Azmuth replied, twisting on his heel and beginning to walk away. "But it's not me you should be apologizing too."
Grief consumed the eleven-year-old once more and he gave a nod, even though the departing Galvan wasn't watching. In a quiet voice, he murmured, "I'm sorry, Feedback."
"Tennyson? Are going to continue lying in the mud like an uncivilized urchin or are you going to come and go soothe your grandfather's worries?"
"Coming!" Ben called and scrambled to his feet.
Even if he didn't quite understand Azmuth's words about learning a lesson from losing, that was okay. What mattered was that Azmuth was still there by his side, and so long as the Galvan stayed there, everything would be fine.
