I do not own the Ben Ten franchise.
A Fine Balance
A large, heavy-duty black van barrelled down the streets, tires squealing against the tarmac. Other cars in their way hastened to pull out of their path and those who were not fast enough got rammed off to the side. Police sirens rang in the air, the cruisers attempting to pursue the vehicle. The sound of gunshots exploded as a marksman leaned out the passenger window, expertly nailing the tires and causing the police cars to screech to a halt one-by-one.
But there was one person they were unable to shake off their tail. Weaving between idled cars, Fasttrack kept his focus on the speeding vehicle. He nimbly dodged the gunshots, quickly looking over his shoulder to ensure no pedestrians got struck by the bullets. He gave a leap and managed to latch onto the back bumper of the van.
"All right guys, joyride's over!" he declared, reaching for the latch of the van's back compartment.
"Get him off!" ordered the driver, turning the wheel harshly to make a particularly sharp turn.
Fasttrack quickly scaled to the top of the vehicle, keeping out of the range of fire. "You want me, come get me!" he taunted.
"Why, you little—"
Yanking out his own gun, the driver craned his upper body out through the open window. He tried to get a good aim, but his companion distracted him by hollering, "Look out!"
Snapping his head around, the driver realized they were on a path for a storefront. He grabbed hold of the wheel, but it was too late. They flew over the curb and slammed through the plate-glass windows, shards shattering into hundreds of glimmering pieces. With a holler, Fasttrack jumped off the roof of the vehicle and to the tire-marked tiles.
Debris started to fall from the ceiling and the shoppers screamed in fear as the van rocketed across the space, taking out shelves of food and various other items. They burst through the opposite wall, causing the building to shake severely. Fasttrack quickly went to work, spending around the length of the shop and gathering all the customers and employees. He brought them outside before the building could collapse or they were struck by falling pieces of wood and plaster.
"I strongly suggest you stay off the roads," he advised. "Things are a little hairy right now."
Leaving the group of shell-shocked civilians standing on the sidewalk, Fasttrack charged through the demolished store in a second, trying to follow the path of the getaway van. He looked for signs of destruction, such as torn apart mailboxes and broken hydrants sputtering water. He could see the van off in the distance when his Omnitrix timed out.
"Aw man!" he cried in frustration, scowling as he went back to his normal form. He slapped at the dial and was not surprised when it did nothing, as it was in recharging mode. "You do this at the worst possible times!"
It took another five minutes before Rook caught up in their Plumber van. "Any luck?" he asked, swinging the door open. When his partner cast him a look, he decided, "No, I did not think so. What happened?"
"They went crashing through a store, and they got away from me as I was getting everyone out," explained Ben. "Come on. We can try going after them until this thing is ready to work again."
They spend a few hours searching, with Rook in the van and Ben with his aliens. But they could not track down the purple mask wearing gang. Huffing out a breath of agitation, the sixteen-year-old climbed back into the Proto-TRUK when the sky started to darken.
"I am sure we will find them," assured Rook. "We can keep looking tomorrow."
"Yeah…you're right." Ben stretched his arms over his head. "I'm sure they'll cause some more trouble sooner rather than later. We'll get them then."
…
"Breaking news: a gang fight has broken out in Bellwood Mall, leaving six inured and three dead. The Indigo Vipers targeted members of a rival gang at the food court at nine this morning. They quickly fled the scene after running out of bullets and the police have yet to track them down. The injured gang members and civilians were taken to the nearest hospital, and there were two found dead at the scene. More information will be given as the case progresses."
Though this particular radio news broadcast had aired days ago, it continued to play on repeat in Ben's mind. He felt sick to his stomach, especially when he remembered how close he had been to apprehending the Viper gang members.
When he first heard the devastating report, Ben raced off in an attempt to hunt down the gang, his emotions rampant. Rook and Max had attempted to soothe him, but he didn't listen. He seemed to be numb to any attempts to comfort him. All he wanted was to right the situation, but no matter how hard he tried, the Indigo Vipers seemed to have vanished. There was no sign of them.
Five days later, he lay buried under his covers, remorseful and regretful. He could not stop thinking about the families of the dead, what turmoil and grief they were going through. If only he had managed to catch the Vipers, the shoot-off wouldn't have happened.
It's my fault…it's all my fault…
"I'm getting rather tired of having to deal with your severe mood swings."
Letting out a groan, Ben moved the pillow to cover his head. "Go away," he snapped hoarsely. "I don't want to deal with you."
Standing on the edge of Ben's nightstand table, Azmuth glared at the teen in annoyance. "And I hardly want to deal with you right now. You're moping like a child."
Angered, Ben abruptly sat up, his brunette hair tousled and emerald eyes fiery. "I am not moping," he hissed through clenched teeth. "I'm mourning. Three people died this week and it's my fault!"
"How is it your fault?" asked Azmuth with a sigh. "You cannot be everywhere at once. We've had this conversation before. You can't save everybody."
"I know that." Clenching his sheets, Ben glared at his hands. "But I was chasing them the day before the shooting. I almost had them. But they crashed into a building and I had to get the shoppers out. That's when I lost them."
"You had to?" asked Azmuth with a frown. "Did the building show any signs of instability?"
"N-no…I don't think so."
"Were the appropriate authorities there to deal with the situation?"
"Yeah."
Azmuth gave a sharp sigh. "That's your problem, Tennyson. It's always been your problem. Emotion should never overrun logic. If there was no immediate signs of trouble with the building, you should have continued on with the pursuit. You let yourself grow worried for no reason."
"They could have gotten hurt or killed if I hadn't stopped to help!" defended Ben. "I can't just ignore people in need!"
"I understand that, but you also can't be in two places at once. This is a hard example of when you will need to make crucial decisions. You possibly saved those civilians from the shop. But you let the gang escape in the process, and there were consequences to that. They are still out there and may strike again. You need to look at the scope of things—that's logic."
"Easy for you to say," said Ben tightly. "You don't care about anyone. I can't just leave people in danger."
Azmuth bristled at Ben's sharp words. "And what will you do, then, if you find yourself in a situation where you will have to save someone over someone else?" he demanded. "Will you continue to dissolve into hysteria and depression every time you fail? A hero needs to be stronger than that. Emotions can't dictate thought. Get that through your thick skull! If you're going to continue to be this sensitive, you shouldn't have the responsibility of the Omnitrix!"
Ben rocketed to his feet, a sneer on his face. "It's not like it was ever meant for me, right?" he shouted. "It was supposed to be for Grandpa Max! But unfortunately for you, I found it. And you know what, maybe unfortunately for me too. If I didn't find the Omnitrix six years ago, I wouldn't have to deal with crap like this! I'd have a normal life!"
"Then have it!" exploded Azmuth. "You can take it off whenever you want! There's nothing preventing you from doing so. I'm sick of hearing your complaints, your whines! You're immaturity is astounding."
"Well, I'm sick of hearing you always yelling and cutting me down," retorted Ben. "I could probably do better with the Omnitrix if you weren't always angry with every single thing I do!"
"I'm leaving," said Azmuth furiously. "You're absolutely insufferable."
"And you're completely impossible!"
The Galvan vanished in a fierce flash of green light with an angry growl. Ben stormed out of his room with an infuriated shout. His muscles were clenched tight, his heart was racing with adrenaline and his nerves were on end. He felt the desire to smash something, anything, against the wall.
Taking a shaking breath, Ben moved into the bathroom. He cranked the shower's nozzle to the coldest setting and stepped inside, fully clothed. For a long while, he stayed underneath the gushing, freezing water. He calmed his heart, took a few deep breathes, and once the red cleared from his vision, he began to think.
If he hadn't stopped to ensure the safety of the shoppers, he would have caught the gang, and the shoot-out wouldn't have occurred. But the civilians in that destroyed building might very well have gotten hurt, even killed. But no matter what, people would have ended up dead. It was inevitable. As much as Ben couldn't stand to admit it, Azmuth was right. He couldn't save everybody. Having such a mindset was going to result in further misery and self-destruction.
His skin was numb from the water, and with green eyes narrowing, he decided he would need to do the same with his emotions. If he wanted to do what was best for the world, he was going to need to look at the bigger picture, like Azmuth said. Sometimes that might involve sacrifices—and he was going to have to deal with it.
Determined, Ben turned the water off. He stepped from the shower stall, clothes plastered to his skin, a puddle creating on the floor. He would right his wrong, and he would do that by finding the Indigo Vipers. He would not stop for anyone this time. To keep more shoot-outs from happening, they needed to go down.
Emotions can't dictate thought. Emotions can't overrun logic.
These were the words he would now live by.
…
It was two days later when the Indigo Vipers made another appearance. They had robbed a jewelry store and were once more roaring down the streets in their getaway. Fasttrack was on their tail, eyes zeroed on his target.
All right, you psychopaths. You're not getting away this time.
They were rapidly approaching an intersection, the light glowing red. The van ploughed through, slamming into the unsuspecting car that had the right of way. The light blue sedan spun out widely, flipping over twice before settling upside down in the middle of the other lane.
Instinct made Ben start to turn, to see if they needed his help. He gave his head a sharp jerk, focussing intently on the heavily-armoured gang transporter. If I let them get away again, who knows how many will die in their next gang fight?
With an almighty leap, he latched onto the back and wasted no time in forcing his way inside. The criminals shouted and aimed their guns, but he easily disarmed them with his speed. Fasttrack forcibly threw the driver out of the vehicle through the flapping back hatch. The van swerved for a moment before he guided it safely to the side of the road.
The cops managed to catch up just as the Omnitrix timed out. Ben stood on the top of the van, watching as the officers handcuffed the gunmen and loaded them into cruisers. Rook arrived in the Proto-TRUK a few minutes later.
"What was that?" he exclaimed, jumping to the pavement and looking up at his partner with an astonished expression.
Ben raised an eyebrow. "What was what?"
"That car that turned over—you just left it! You did not see if there were any civilians who needed your help."
Rook did not intend to sound accusing. He was merely caught off guard, for Ben had never once ignored injured bystanders before. But the brunette stiffened at what he believed to be an accusation. He glared down at Rook, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"I did that a week ago," he said coolly. "And look what happened. Three people died because of my negligence to catch the bad guys. If I ignored them again, who knows how many more there would be? I'm a hero—it's my job to stop evil."
Rook looked at his friend, who now seemed so unfamiliar in this moment. "They are fine," was all he could think off to say. "I assisted them."
"Then I don't know you're upset if you already took care of the problem. Come on, let's get back to base. I have a report to give."
Ben got to the ground and strode for the Proto-TRUK, with a steely glint to his emerald eyes that Rook found nerve-wracking.
…
Sitting at the front counter of Baumann's store, Ben lazily poked at the foreign food resting on his plate. Rook had suggested they go out for lunch and they happened to run into Argit on the way. The three were sitting side-by-side, chatting (or at least Argit was chatting).
Argit paused mid-ramble when his sensitive ears picked up the sound of purposeful strides. He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened. "Dang," he grumbled, turning back around hastily. "Heads up, Benny. "You got some bandits on the way."
Ben did not have time to form a response, for two burly grey rhino-like aliens approached the counter. "All right, shopkeeper, give us all your money!" one demanded.
"Unless you want us to bring the whole place to the ground," added the other, raising a green-and-grey laser cannon.
Baumann quickly raised his hands in the air, dropping his dish towel in the process. "Yes! Of course! Just let me—"
"I don't think so."
The two aliens turned to see Four Arms glaring at them, arms crossed over his broad chest. Rook and Argit hastily moved out of the way, Rook reaching for his blaster as he moved. Baumann stared at the boy in horror.
"Ben, don't!"
"Listen to the old man before you get seriously hurt."
Cracking his knuckles, Ben declared, "You're the ones who will be getting hurt. Let's rumble."
He launched forwards, ducking a blast from the laser cannon and attacking the one unarmed. With a mighty heave, he sent the startled bandit flying across the store and crashing into the wall. Whirling around, Four Arms ducked yet another blast and used two arms to wrench the cannon from his grip, while the other two kept his arms at bay.
"And over you go," he said, flipping the second bandit over his head. He crashed right next to his companion with a massive crash, causing the building to shake. When the two bandits did not move, he slapped at his Omnitrix and turned back to normal.
"Are you crazy?"
Blinking, Ben turned to stare at the furious Baumann, who was holding his counter with white-knuckled fingers. Inches from his right hand was a large scorch mark from the laser blast. Ben stared at for a moment before shrugging.
"You weren't hurt. The bandits didn't take your money. What's the problem?"
"What's my problem?" asked Baumann incredulously. "My problem is that you nearly killed all of us!"
"Well, I didn't," said Ben indifferently. "If I had let those bandits get away, they would have continued until they actually did kill someone. Collateral damage is inevitable when fighting evil." Stretching his arms above his head, he turned to stare at the bulky, unconscious bandits with a bored expression. "Guess we're going to need reinforcements."
He walked off to make the call, leaving Baumann to gape after the teen. Argit stared after the brunette with spooked eyes. "Is there a chill in here or is it just me?"
"No, it is not you," said Rook heavily.
"Didn't think so. How long has Benny been doing that?"
"A few weeks. I am not sure how to snap him out of it…"
"Yeah…this isn't the first time this has happened," said Argit. "I think you better call Kev."
…
Rook's hope that Ben would 'snap out' of his sudden personality change quickly diminished. Not only did he have tunnel vision when it came to fighting crime, but he was different when it came to social situations. He was quieter, and did not spend as much time socializing as he used to. His smile seemed to have vanished, his entire persona going ice-cold as he rid himself of his troublesome emotions.
Rook didn't initially tell Max of Ben's odd behaviour, for he didn't want his friend to get in trouble. But he never got the chance—the experienced Plumber learned of Ben's behaviour after a battle with Albedo, which was captured by a news crew.
Max could hardly believe it as he watched the monitor in his office at Plumbers HQ. As Cannonball and Ultimate Humungousaur fought it out downtown, one of Albedo's attacks dislodged a massive billboard. Instead of pausing to prevent the object's descent, Ben pressed on, pursuing Albedo further down the street.
"What were you thinking?" he demanded when Ben finally shuffled into his office.
Ben stared blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You let that billboard fall. You didn't do anything to try and stop it," said Max, keeping his voice controlled. "If Rook hadn't managed to keep it from hitting the ground, dozens of people would have seriously injured."
"I was in the middle of a fight," said Ben evenly. "If I had stopped, Albedo would have gotten away and not be in his jail cell right now. Who knows what kind of terror he would have created if he escaped?"
"Ben," said Max gently, setting a hand on his grandson's shoulder, "I know you were shaken by the incident with the Indigo Vipers. That's normal, but it wasn't your fault."
Eyes flashing, Ben pulled away roughly. "Yes, it was my fault!" he said fiercely. "If I had caught them in the first place, it never would have happened!" He could feel his anger levels rising, and his chest was heaving. Taking a few deep breathes, Ben forced himself to calm down. Getting too angry would affect his thinking, his actions. "There might be causalities when I fight evil," he said in a slower voice. "But if I let those bad guys get away? The result may be much worse than a few innocent bystanders."
"Are you hearing yourself right now?" asked Max, concern welling within him at the way Ben delivered the words. "This isn't you."
"It is now," said Ben curtly. "I won't have another Indigo Viper incident. I need to look at the bigger picture. You should, too."
Turning on his heel, Ben swept out of the office with that. Staring after his grandson with a deep frown, Max reached for his cellphone. He dialled a number and waited. "Gwen? We have a problem."
…
The rain pounded against the world below, a thick layer of mist coating the landscape. A motorcycle charged recklessly down the street, wheels slipping on the slick tarmac. Car horns honked indigently as they were cut off by the bike. Following after the robber, Ball Weevil balanced expertly on a growing ball of green plasma.
When the criminal realized the alien was catching up to him, he searched for a way to divert the hero. Spotting a truck carrying stacks of barrels just ahead of him, he sped up his bike, spraying water in all directions. When he was close enough he lifted his gun and fired once. The bullet cut through the strap and the wooden containers began tipping out in a domino motion. Some exploded when they struck the concrete, chili flying everywhere.
"Crap," hissed Ball Weevil.
He swerved sharply from side to side, avoiding getting struck by the spinning barrels and chunks of red chili. Cars behind and ahead of him were attempting to screech to a halt, but the rainy conditions made this a difficult task.
Pink mana suddenly seized hold of the vehicles and barrels, forcing everything to come to a halt. Ball Weevil reached his target and quickly ensnared him with a line of green plasma, restraining the criminal and pulling him to the ground.
His Omnitrix timing out, Ben was quickly soaked through by the downpour. He walked across the cement, sneakers squeaking with each step. "That's the last bank heist for you," he drawled, standing over the thrashing criminal. He kicked aside the two money bags that had fallen off the bike in the takedown.
"What's the matter with you?!"
Eyebrow arching, Ben turned slightly to see Gwen and Kevin striding towards him, both looking unhappy. "What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Grandpa Max called me and said you've been acting cold and distant lately," said Gwen, clenching the folds of her blue rain jacket closer to her body. "You didn't answer my calls, so I took a quick break from college to come find you."
"We heard the police report about this guy the scanner," added Kevin, moving his damp raven hair away from his face. "Figured this is where you would be."
"You were right." Ben slung his hands into his pockets, ignoring the way the rain plastered his hair and clothes to his skin. "But we have nothing to talk about."
"We clearly do," snapped Gwen. "Ben, I thought Grandpa was exaggerating. But you didn't even look back to see if any of those cars were in trouble."
Ben shrugged. "It's chili. Chili's not gonna kill anyone."
"It might if it slams through a windshield," said Kevin in annoyance. "Come on man. What's wrong? This attitude isn't like you."
"I'm getting really tired of explaining myself," said Ben in annoyance. "Every second I spend helping bystanders is a second the bad guys use to get away. If I don't take them down, more people are put at risk."
"I get that, we all get that. But Ben, you don't always have to choose the bad guys over the bystanders," stressed Gwen. "I know you can't save everybody, and I know that kills you inside. But this? This new attitude of yours isn't going to make anything better."
"No, but it'll help me get the job done," said Ben tightly.
"Dude, you're not listening," said Kevin impatiently. "Why do you think Max called us? To try and knock some sense into your thick head."
"There's one thing you all need to remember." Ben raised his Omnitrix, a frosty glint in his emerald eyes. "I'm the hero. I'm the one who makes the decisions on how to be hero. This is my decision. It's for the betterment of everyone. If you don't like it, too bad."
He stormed off with that, ignoring his friends' calls. He disappeared into the mist, leaving the criminal to be picked up the police, the blaring sirens indicating their approach. Gwen stared after her cousin in dismay, fear and worry in her gut.
"He's acting exactly like he did when you went—" She hastily cut herself off and looked at her boyfriend apologetically. "Sorry."
"No. You're right. Ben acts this way when he thinks he has to be a tough guy in order to get the job done. It's how he guards himself against his guilt and fear." Kevin crossed his arms, expression speculative. "He's stubborn as a mule. He's not going to listen when he thinks he's right. At least, he won't listen to us. Who's the one person in this whole galaxy that can force Ben to listen, no matter how much he doesn't want to?"
"Probably the same person who Ben admires more than anyone else," said Gwen knowingly.
"Yup. It's time to call Azmuth."
…
Azmuth didn't quite believe the extent of Ben's drastic mood change when Max called him. But as he lingered in the shadows, observing Ben on his missions, he was forced to realize he had perhaps created a monster. The boy ignored any and all innocent bystanders that were in the path of danger, focussing only on capturing the bad guy he was engaging.
Even from a distance, the Galvan could see the cold glint in the emerald orbs, the boy's stiff posture, the way his face would set into an indifferent mask whenever someone spoke to him. He was shutting down, much like how he had when he was convinced the only way to stop Kevin's rampage a year ago was to kill him.
And as Azmuth watched Ben wield the Omnitrix with his harsher personality, he noticed that something was different. He no longer moved with fluid movement, but with a controlled accuracy that was off-putting. This wasn't the ten-year-old he had gifted his invention to.
And it was his fault.
It was difficult to admit this, but Azmuth knew it to be true. His advice to Ben almost a month ago had resulted in this transformation. It wasn't what he had intended, and the teen had misunderstood what he was trying to say. But he was still to blame, for making Ben believe that his emotions were constantly a hindrance.
Now he had to fix it.
He appeared in Ben's bedroom the evening of his fourth day of observance. He had seen all he needed to see, and it was time to speak with his wielder. The boy seemed surprised to see him, though it was quickly covered up with a blank expression.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, moving his computer chair back slightly so he could stare at the Galvan standing on his desk.
There was a hint of apprehension in his tone and Azmuth knew the argument they had during their last encounter was clear in his mind. "This is rare for me to say," he said slowly, the words seeming to weigh down his tongue, "but I was wrong."
This caused Ben's eyes to widen. "What do you mean?"
"I've been watching you these past few days. You seemed to have misunderstood my advice."
"You told me not to let my emotions overrun my logic," pointed out Ben defensively. "That's what I'm doing."
"To an extreme degree," said Azmuth calmly. "Yes, you can be too emotional. Sometimes you have to calm down and think about a situation. Not all the time. The civilians deserve your attention."
"But I can't save everybody," said Ben, frustration leaking into his voice. "You said so. If I let the bad guys go, then I'm just putting more civilians at risk."
"Not all of them. I sincerely doubt you have much to worry about with alien bandits and the like. Petty criminals don't tend to harm their victims."
Ben faltered at this, curls of doubt beginning to spread throughout him. "I suppose not…"
"I'm going to tell why I'm wrong, Ben. Though being emotional sometimes causes you trouble, it's also your greatest asset which I've only now come to realize. After observing you, I noticed your personality change caused you perform your heroic duties differently. The reason you do such an impressive job with my Omnitrix is because you care too much."
Ben thought about this, brow furrowing. "But you're also right," he said at last. "I get too emotional and can get sloppy at my job, letting criminals like the Indigo Vipers get away."
"Then it's up to you to find a balance," replied Azmuth. "You have to know when to pick your battles, so to speak. It's true you can't save everybody. But I suppose, sometimes, there's no harm in trying. It seems I still have much to learn, as do you."
After a month of trying to be uncaring and indifferent about the wellbeing of others, Ben finally felt the wave of guilt and remorse of his cold and harsh actions. "I'm an idiot," he said miserably. "I tried so hard to not let another incident like the Indigo Vipers happen that I began not to care about anyone."
"You're intentions were good. I should have been clearer with what I was trying to convey to you. I suppose I shouldn't have let us depart on unfriendly terms."
For the first time in a month, a smile curled its way across Ben's face. "Looks like you have work to do on your emotions, too."
"Yes," said Azmuth in amusement. "I suppose I do."
"I'm sorry, Azmuth. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I didn't mean what I said. I know you care."
"Ah. I'm sorry as well. You are the person fit to wear the Omnitrix, even if you can be too sensitive."
Ben extended his fist, a light smile on his features. "We cool?"
Though Azmuth never gave in to such laidback gestures, the warmth once more flooding Ben's emerald orbs caused him to make an exception. "Yes," he replied, lightly bumping his knuckles against' Ben's larger ones. "We are."
"I've got a lot more apologies to make," declared Ben, getting to his feet. "I better start."
It had been foolish for him to try and block his emotions from affecting him. A hero had to be empathic, sympathetic and caring. But Azmuth was right—there had to be a balance. With the Galvan's help, he would reach that balance.
