Aquilibra: I am an awful, terrible, horrible human being. An almost YEAR LONG HIATUS?! What is wrong with me?! I'm inconsiderate, I guess. Anyway...this chapter is really a lame excuse for that long period of silence, and just wanted to let you readers know, I'm not dead! And neither is this fic! I have big plans for the upcoming chapters, but for now, enjoy character introspection! YAY! *flails arms wildly*

Disclaimer: I wish I owned Ben 10. Just so I could do this to him and have pervy things done to him by various super villains.

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Catastrophe

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Chapter 5: Night Terrors

Could be worse…

Ben didn't know how many times he had told himself that when he ended up in these kind of predicaments, but he was pretty sure after a while, he would either need to start seeing a psychiatrist or a find a new saying. Though he was seriously starting to think neither would work.

Snoring akin to that of a rusted chainsaw filled his new ears with unwanted vibrations of noise. Who was causing the awful snoring? None other than the "great" doctor, Animo. More like the great noisemaker. Even worse, Animo's arms were wrapped tightly around his waist, keeping him pressed to the older male's chest. (Who'd a thunk that the villain was such a cuddler?) No amount of struggling had loosened the hold, and he hadn't been able to wiggle for long anyways lest it stir the other from his slumber. At least with the villain asleep he was free to strategize how to escape. Ben stiffened suddenly as Animo shifted, nuzzling his hair and inhaling deeply. A shudder passed through the smaller, though somehow the only sound he could manage was a small squeak of surprise. Oh my god…oh my god…cooties!

"…I hate you universe."

-O-

Animo's eyes opened blearily and took in the dark of the bedroom. Pupils struggling to focus, his eyes sought out the dim light coming from the alarm clock and read the time. 4:11 AM. Wonderful. Why was he even awake? A small cry coming from the bundle his arms were currently hugging tightly answered the unspoken question. Shifting his hold on the smaller male, he rolled him over to face him. Tennyson's face was scrunched up as if he was in pain. The younger twitched and cried out again, ears pressed flat against his skull in what Animo realized symbolized fear. At first the villain had no idea what to do. Wake the other up to stop his crying?

…No, that was just mean.

Several ideas bombarded his mind, but most involved the discomfort of the latter. Despite being mortal enemies with Tennyson only eight or so hours ago [or something like that, Animo never was very good with timing], in his current helpless state, he couldn't bring himself to harm him. Not even for laughs. Anyway, the point of him blackmailing Tennyson into being his pet was punishment in itself. No point in making him absolutely hate him. Reaching out hesitantly towards Ben, Animo slowly began to run his hand up and down his trembling side. Gaining confidence with each stroke, the doctor picked up his rhythm until the soft sound of rumbling from deep within the hybrid's chest could be heard. The sound only increased in volume as each stroke became longer. Then Animo's free hand jumped into action and began petting the head of his "pet". Gray ears began to relax at the soft treatment, the cries and whimpers dying away and instead fading into purring.

Animo hadn't really had any pets growing up. Even in his childhood, he knew he was destined for great things. Back then, people didn't really notice how unusual he was. But then again, most eight-year-olds were tyrannical little monsters. What he was doing now…petting Ben Tennyson…the very person he thought he would hate for the rest of his unnatural life. But somehow in just the past few hours, the fact that they were enemies now meant nothing to him. It didn't really make any logical sense; but who was he to question fate? Perhaps this was his 'turning point' that his prison rehabilitator had spoken of. Showing mercy to the very person that his hatred of had made him try again and again to take over the world (or just Bellwood). Either way, Animo couldn't deny that there was something strangely comforting about petting the other and in turn comforting him.

Symbiotic.

That's what it was. Having a biology major, of course he'd heard the term several times before. It was one of the fundamental elements of ecology. When two creatures had a mutually beneficial relationship. A "you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours" type situation. It was also something someone did when they liked the other.

But he couldn't possibly like Tennyson like that, could he?!

…Could he?

Retracting his hand quickly from the other as if he had been burned, Animo stared in horror at the still form of his should-be-enemy Ben Tennyson. Turning over his hand to look at his palm, he studied it intently, searching for some reason why it had been drawn to comfort the other. Of course there was nothing. He would have been surprised if there was. Rolling over to face the empty wall, he sat up in the bed and cradled his head in his hands. What was he thinking? This whole thing was a mess! He should have left the unconscious hero where he lay...then he wouldn't have to be dealing with these foreign emotions right now. But some dormant protective side of Animo rose up at that thought with a surge of fury at the thought of someone else touching the defenseless cat-boy. Of someone else's fingers combing gently through his soft, mahogany brown hair…cradling his lovely face with unworthy hands…stroking that amusing tail—

A snarl escaped Animo. He stiffened at the noise, barely perceiving that it came from himself. Startled shifting from behind him broke him from his frozen stupor, turning to watch his bedmate shift again before stilling and breathing returning to normal. Letting out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding, Animo turned to resume his staring at the wall. This…was completely unforeseen. It seemed there was more to their relationship then even he could have ever imagined. It would call for some definite looking-in-to. But for now he was stuck with the tiny superhero. A sudden curious urge struck Animo and he bent over Ben's slumbering form to study his features intensely, his gaze scrutinizing every little detail, questions already forming in his mind. Just how old was the hero now? Before he'd been around fifteen or sixteen, just in his teens, but now…his body was almost that of an eleven or twelve year-old. Although the doctor thought he'd heard the other complaining about "being ten again". Animo well remembered those days. Back when he himself was simply a beginner villain—just spreading his evil wings—and who came along to stop him but a ten-year-old welp with a watch that couldn't even tell time, but transformed him into fantastical alien creatures? Times had been strange indeed then. He snorted; throughout all the foiling the other did of his plans, he'd never really got over the fact that a ten-year-old was beating him. He was the great Dr. Animo, by far the brightest of evil minds! But to his embarrassment, not only did Benjamin Tennyson (as he had later found out his real name was) beat him once, he did it repeatedly.

So what made him so special?

The watch of course.

Without it…he was nothing. Right?

But no, Animo had heard stories of Benjamin fighting back even without the omnitrix. Even when Vilgax—Animo shuddered—had taken the omnitrix from the hero, he had still somehow gotten it back and defeated the intergalactic tyrant. Of all the other super villains like himself he had ever run into, Vilgax was the only one he truly feared. And there was a very logical reason to be afraid of the overbearing warlord. He was the leader of his people, but also a conqueror (not to mention destroyer) of worlds. His goal in obtaining the omnitrix was nothing short of global, and then intergalactic, domination.

Animo had never set his sights quite that high, preferring subjugation of just one of the many planets in the vast galaxy. And here in his arms lay Earth's primary guardian, weak and vulnerable. His for the taking.

But it just seemed…wrong. Like he hadn't earned the right to wipe Tennyson's existence off the face of the Earth.

Animo paused in his musings as a small purr rumbled from the other occupant of the bed. He tentatively twirled his fingers around the twitchy gray tail, ever pondering his own actions. Aloysius was really kidding himself this time—he couldn't kill Ben Tennyson—at least not when the hero was like this. Again the urge to wrap the tiny adorable mass in his arms and just ravish him until Animo's scent covered his entire being rose up with a vengeance. Animo quelled with a quick mental swat, chastising himself for even considering it. Any more incidents like in the bathroom and Tennyson would start thinking he liked him or something.

By this time, Ben's form had completely stilled again, his purrs rumbling steadily from his throat as Animo continued to gently, languishingly stroke up and down the small side and fiddle with those delicate gray cat ears. Said fiddling caused the young hero to giggle through his purrs, side hitching with false distress. A grin stretched over Animo's face, uncontrollable as the overwhelming feeling of calm that washed over him. He'd been told repeatedly during therapy at the institution that handling animals, as well as having prolonged physical contact, was very therapeutic and healing to those with mental conditions. At the time he had laughed aloud, and in his head, because how ironic it was, that these utter fools would think to "cure" him with creatures he had mutated and genetically altered his entire career. He'd also been told his ego would be his downfall.

A momentarily forgotten tail tickled under Aloysius' nose, reminding him teasingly that a great opportunity lay before him. His for the taking. Blackmailed with no hope of rescue, Tennyson was his to do with as he pleased—he had told the hybrid he intended to keep him as a pet, and at the time, he had meant as nothing more than a passing amusement to bargain off later. That thought also gave him pause; it was no secret that Ben had many enemies, and if word got out of his current…condition…super villains would be lining up at Animo's door making offers—or worse—attempting to steal the hero from under his nose. Animo sneezed suddenly, a water-eyed glare quickly directed to the culprit.

"Oh the things I'd do to you…" Animo whispered suggestively, lips curving into a smirk.

"Wrap you tight in my hands until you only twitched in distress…or perhaps break every bone in your fragile curvature until each movement was unbearably painful…until finally a fitting end under my bone saw…"

There was no answer to his vicious teasing, not that he expected any protest from a tail.

Very short chapter, I'm sorry guys! Characters questioning and/or explaining their own motives is just not my thing. Since I've broken through the writer's block that prevented this chapter from coming out (and metaphorically I have "cleared the air") but thankfully now that its out of the way I can get to working on the scenes that I want to do. Get ready for COOKING WITH BEN THE CAT BOY!