I do not own the Ben Ten franchise.

Dealing With the Hatred of a Hero

"Mommy, look! It's Ben Ten! He's-!"

A sharp hiss cut off the little boy's excited chatter. Ben turned around in time to see a mother hustling the confused blonde boy down the sidewalk, a glare over her shoulder as they went. Irritated, he turned around and gripped the cardboard smoothie cup, slouching against the stone wall that divided Mr. Smoothy's courtyard area from the main street.

"What's her problem?" he grumbled under his breath. "It's not like I'm gonna containment her kid or anything. It's a watch, not a disease."

But he knew that wasn't the problem-at least, not all of it.

Ever since the world found out his true identity, every adult in Bellwood (with the exception of a select few) gave him nasty looks as he walked down the street and guarded the children as if he would snatch them away at any moment.

It was highly annoying.

"'scuse me?"

Startled from his brooding, Ben glanced up to see a little redhead girl smiling shyly at him. "Are you the monster boy?"

He opened his mouth to correct the girl, that they were aliens, not monsters. But her earnest gaze stopped him. "Yeah," he agreed. "That's me." Really, she probably didn't even know the difference between monsters and aliens.

"Could you change into the big doggie for me?" she asked hopefully. "Please?"

Hesitating, his emerald eyes darted up and down the street in search for angry parents storming towards him. "I suppose," he finally said. It wasn't often kids got close enough to make such requests and he really didn't want to disappoint a fan.

But as he twisted the dial of the Omnitrix, he realized that it had been a while since he turned into Wildmutt. "Please don't mess this up," he pleaded softly to the alien device. The last thing he needed was to traumatize the girl.

He slapped the dial down and in seconds he transformed into the orange-furred beast, snorting madly. The girl beamed in delight and happily patted his head. Wildmutt rumbled in pleasure and nudged against her hand.

"Melissa! Get away from that freak!"

The purse came from out of nowhere, slamming into the side of Wildmutt's face with such force that it sent him toppling back in surprise, creating a sizable crack in the stone wall. Indigent, he hit the Omnitrix symbol embedded in his chest, reverting back to a fifteen-year-old.

"What do you have in that thing, lady?" Ben snapped, rubbing his cheek. "Dumbbells?"

"How dare you come near my child?!" the woman hissed, collecting her daughter close. "I should report you!"

"First of all, she came up to me. Second of all, I'm a hero. The greatest hero in the universe! I shouldn't have to take junk like this. You should be thanking me."

"Excuse me, young man! Who do you-?"

"I'm Ben Tennyson!"the wielder snapped, climbing to his feet. "I'm the guy who saves this town on a regular basis! If it weren't for me, you'd probably be six feet under by now!"

The words left his tongue before he could halt them. Not wanting to be struck again, he hastily turned on his heel and stormed away, knowing he had crossed a line. But he needn't have worried-the woman was too furious to speak and Melissa waved happily after him. "Bye bye, monster boy! Thank you for showing me the doggie!"

I wish everyone could be like her, Ben thought ruefully as he rounded the corner, hands shoved in his jacket pockets. And I don't understand why they're not.

He didn't understand the glares of distrust, the bitter comments, and the slander that was on the news twenty-four/seven. When his identity had been a secret, he hadn't received as much hate as he was getting now. So what was the difference between the anonymous aliens and Ben Tennyson, the guy who turned into them?

Frustrated, he glared at the Omnitrix. "You know, sometimes you're more trouble than you're worth." He gave the dial a sharp smack to vent his emotions and the hit caused the Omnitrix to enter call mode.

"Please state name of being you wish to contact."

"Azmuth."

It was funny, when he thought about it later, that Azmuth was the answer to that question. When he hadn't meant to call anyone at that time, the name of the Galvan spilled from his lips. If he were being honest with himself, he would admit that he had wanted to speak with his mentor for a while, ever since his true identity was revealed.

But he knew Azmuth would only roll his eyes and say he was behaving childishly. And oddly enough, more often than not, those words were a comfort. It meant that whatever he was worrying about wasn't anything he should be concerned with.

After a few rings, Azmuth's voice drifted from the small speakers attached to the sides of the watch. "What do you want, Tennyson?"

Well, that oh-so familiar irritated tone never stopped him before. "Azmuth, do you have a moment?"

"For what?"

"I want to talk."

"I don't have time for small talk, Tennyson. I am a busy-"

"Azmuth, please." The emotional exhaustion of the whole ordeal finally caught up and he felt no shame when his voice fell to a desperate plead. "Please?"

A silence ensued and for a moment Ben feared that the Galvan would reject him at a time where he needed him most.

"Alright, Ben," the Galvan finally answered, soothing the boy's worries. "We'll talk."

A bright green light engulfed him for a moment and when the light faded he was standing in the vast laboratory that was Azmuth's. The genius was currently tinkering with something, his multiple-use remote lying on the lab table. Ben carefully took a seat by the high rise windows, crossing his legs and making sure not to jostle anything.

It only took a few minutes for Azmuth to finish up whatever he was doing and he turned around, brushing his hands against his robes. "Well?"

So many questions bounced through Ben's mind. He didn't know where to start, didn't even know how to form his emotions into words in a way Azmuth would understand. But then, just as Azmuth's brow began to arch in slight impatience, the boy asked, "Do you hate me?"

The brow arched higher, this time in bafflement. He was about to dismiss the foolishness of the question (after all, if he hated Ben, the Omnitrix wouldn't still be in his possession) but the desperate shine in those emerald eyes caused him to falter. Something was troubling his wielder, and for Ben to come to him instead of Max, it meant he ought to take the matter seriously.

"No, Ben. I do not hate you."

Rather than cheering up at this, like Azmuth expected, Ben gave a small frown. "Then…why does everybody else?"

Ah. Now it made sense.

The revelation of Ben's identity had brought about mixed reactions from the people of Earth. That much the Galvan knew. But from the child's current behaviour, it seemed that the reactions were more negative than positive.

"I cannot speak for anyone else, Ben."

"I know. But…I mean, you made the Omnitrix." Ben fiddled with the device on his wrist and for once Azmuth did not berate him for it. "If the creator of the Omnitrix likes me, why can't everyone else?"

"Your logic is severely flawed," Azmuth said bluntly. Ben looked at him in confusion and he elaborated. "Just because I happen to have a positive regard for you doesn't mean any other human should. It's much more complex than that."

"Okay, yeah, they may not know you like me, but they should at least trust that I've been entrusted with the Omnitrix for a reason. That should be enough to stop them from cursing me as I walk down the street."

"You hardly make a good impression," Azmuth said flatly.

Ben screwed his face up. "I was about to blow up along with the universe. You can hardly fault me for banging you up a bit-you were being impossible."

"Such as you are on a constant basis."

The teenager was about to retort when he recalled his earlier remarks to the mother of Melissa. Remarks that she had not deserved, and an arrogance he should not have. "As always, you're right," he grumbled and rested his chin in his hands. "Maybe I didn't make the best impression on them. But I save them. I don't understand why they distrust me so much! I'm a hero."

"No. You're a child," Azmuth corrected. "If you were an adult, would you trust your life in the hands of a boy who has yet to make it through puberty?"

"I…guess not," Ben agreed slowly. "But I would change my mind after I saw what a good job was being done."

"Would you trust a device, a device that Earth technology will not be able to accomplish for hundreds of years, that has the ability to turn anyone into an alien?"

"Depends on who's using it."

"Ah. Do these people know you, Ben Tennyson?"

Surprised, Ben stared at Azmuth for a moment. "No," he finally said. "They don't know me at all."

"Couple that with fear of something they don't understand, and you're going to have to work to win the public over."

Ben mulled this over. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I overreacted…"

"You always do." Azmuth paused for a moment before addressing the issue that had unsettled him since the reason for the teen's visit became clear. "Ben, you cannot expect everyone to like you. It is unrealistic."

"I don't expect everyone to like me," he corrected. "I just…expect to be able to walk around my own town without feeling like someone's glare is going to burn my flesh."

"What you expect and what people deliver are not always the same. If the adult population of Bellwood never warms up to you, then that is how it is, and you will take it like a man instead of fretting over it like an insecure child. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," Ben responded automatically. An embarrassed flush crept up his neck. "I…I'm sorry for bothering you. You have more important things to deal with than my teenage hormones."

"I suppose it couldn't be helped," Azmuth replied dismissively.

If he were to be honest, he had grown worried when the boy's tone, which was almost always full of confidence, had turned desperate and almost broken. The reason for his distress was entirely infantile, but Ben was always a bit too concerned with the trivial and unimportant matters of life. He never did know how to properly express his emotions, and the only way for him to calm down from an emotional high was to discuss them with someone.

Which reminded him…

"Why did you not speak to your grandfather about this?" Azmuth asked. He knew the boy held affection for him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't hold some affection for the boy as well. But he didn't think that Ben would ever come to him before going to Max.

The sudden question caught Ben by surprise, but only for a moment. He smiled. "Grandpa's great to talk to. But sometimes, he doesn't quite tell me what I need to hear. You always tell me things straight up, whether I want to hear it or not. I appreciate that-even if I don't always act like I do."

Azmuth stared at the wielder for a moment before he shook his head, a smile of his own curling across his face.

Yes, his fondness for Ben had only accumulated over the years, starting as spark on that fateful day the ten-year-old burst into his compound with demands and orders. But he wouldn't tell Tennyson that.

It would only inflate his ego, and that would defeat the purpose of this entire conversation.