Disclaimer: I don't own Ben 10

Phew! After three weeks of homework times infinity, I'm back! Just want to say I'm sorry for the relatively long wait. I usually update every three days, but since school's starting, things change.

I'm glad that there're actually people who look forward to reading the story. So let's not hold you guys back any longer – on with the story!

Oh, and since I haven't written for quite a while, the style might be a little changed. Also, a little warning for some OOC on Sandra's part.

Chapter 5 – Poignant Desolation

Gwen swallowed her perplexity as the environment around her started to fall into place. The red carpeted floor, the familiar shelves, the 27 inch TV, the priceless vase that Grandpa Max sent his daughter-in-law three years ago…yup, this was Ben's home, alright. How she transported from the sea to a living room and find herself perfectly dry, she had no idea, but with all those 'wonderful' recollections of the previous summer stuck permanently in her head, she knew that anything was possible.

With an awkward giggle of discomfiture, she pulled back her hand which was resting upon the top of the leather sofa, inches from a head of middle-length blond hair. Something at the back of her skull beeped and told her that the hard, rough surface she felt when she was underwater was the skin of the couch, but she hardly paid any attention to that thought. Taking a few steps backwards, she realized that the little waterfall of gold could only belong to her aunt Sandra. Assuming that she was currently another one of Ben's memories and that she was invisible in them, she walked about freely until she was looking at Sandra at a different angle, where she could clearly see her face.

It didn't take an expert to note that Sandra Tennyson was not happy. Her brows were furrowed, her grayish-green eyes were slits and her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her features showed every sign of impatience and anger, which usually was not shown but hinted in her words. Gwen flinched at the sight of her aunt's rare frown. The source of her irritation was clear as crystal as Gwen spotted an abused piece of paper Sandra crunched up in her hands which the girl recognized to be the Math test on algebra held approximately a month ago.

The sound of a door opening and slamming shut came from behind me as my aunt's look became even uglier.

"And what," Sandra's voice was quivering dangerously. Her claws tightened around the test paper as she held it up in front of her face, "is the meaning of this?"

"But, Mom! I've tried my best!"

Despite the fact that I was well aware that Sandra has to be talking to somebody, I jumped at the sound of my cousin's voice on the other side of the room. Ben's usual bright green eyes were dull with exhaustion as he leant against the wall for support, wiping sweat from his forehead that drenched his brown hair.

"Benjamin Tennyson, you come here and sit down!" Sandra's raised voice was more intimidating than Gwen has imagined. "We need to talk!"

"I just came back from football practice!" The boy protested, slamming down his school bag furiously. "Give me a minute in the shower, won't you? I'm reeking!"

"No!" The mother demanded with much force as she jumped to her feet, and Gwen secretly thanked her lucky stars that she didn't have Sandra Tennyson as her mother. "This has gone to the extent where it can no longer be tolerated!"

Sympathy wafted around Gwen as Ben's shoulders slumped and his tired face replaced by the look of utmost depression. The next fifteen minutes was both a nightmare for Gwen and her cousin as aunt Sandra's heated tones continuously boomed against her eardrums, and yet the volume of her voice was not the worst part of her "speech". It was her choice of words in her telling off that hurt the most.

Gwen has always known that while boys' fights might bring quite a lot of physical injuries, the insults that girls throw at each other can bring pain ten times worse. Since males are simply not used to spiritual damages, one random offense may lead to a more harm to the spirit than expected. Apparently, Aunt Sandra had no idea about how boys work, for she hesitated not and shot all her very-insulting flames in one go without coming up for air.

"I cannot believe you, Benjamin! You've had all summer to improve your Mathematics, but what did you do? You just had to waste the precious time away by going on some lame camp with your grandfather. Didn't I tell you to bring the worksheets with you? No, you had to leave them at home. With much intention, I should think! What is the meaning of bringing a D- home every other time there is a test? I had straight 'A's when I was your age, and even your father scored an average of B+ in the SAT. No parent wants their child to do poorly in the academic fields. Why can't you try not to be such a disappointment to your mother and father? Do you think they are going to let you enter college if your Math doesn't get better? You'll never get a job!"

Occasionally Ben would argue back, saying how he was already putting in all his effort on the subject, and how he just wasn't good with numbers, and how he did actually attempted to do the Math worksheets his mother assigned him. However, he was always punched back by Sandra, who retorted stating that he was only making up lame excuses and how everybody should be able to achieve their desires if they only put their heart in it.

It pained young Gwen's heart to witness her cousin's features so similar to a pathetic, beaten-up dog as the boy shrunk lower and lower in his seat. It pained her even more when Sandra started comparing me with my cousin.

"I simply don't understand it! Gwen does fine, doesn't she? She gets the 'A's, she's a piano eight grader, she has a brown belt in judo, and she even paints well! Why do Frank and Lily get to have such a perfect child when Carl and I are stuck with a useless son who sucks at almost everything except football?"

The red-head winced at the woman's words, but her reaction to the rant was nothing compared to the boy's. Ben hung his head, his eyes gradually misting up.

"Now don't you dare cry in front of me, young man! We don't want a crybaby in the house! If you really feel bad, go prove yourself capable by lifting up your Math average mark!"

At the word Sandra waved her son off, and Ben never looked back as he raced up the stairs and shut himself in the bathroom. A soft, blurred sound of sobbing still managed to find its way out of the splash of the shower and the thick, wooden door. Gwen stood directly on the other side, feeling extremely terrible. She can almost understand why Ben never really got along well with her when they were younger. With his mother constantly reminding him how his cousin beat him at every aspect, there was no way Ben could develop a friendship with Gwen, that is, until the summer of the discovery of the Omnitrix. Those three months brought the cousins much closer than before, thickening the bonding between them. There was even a small trace of fondness that Gwen has developed for the happy, energetic, brown-haired boy, which, most ironically, was presently crying in the showers.

The idea that Sandra might be a mother with high expectations of her son never occurred once to Gwen in all her eleven years of life. To her, her aunt was the most loving mom in the world, one who has respected and accepted her child just the way he was. Now, perceiving the true side of her aunt's character, her impression of Sandra made a sharp 180 degree's turn.

Gwen was so absorbed in her thoughts that she was only aware of the shadow of her cousin in the last second when he disappeared into his room. He had walked right past her without her noticing. Seeing that she was teleporting nowhere for the time being and deciding that it wouldn't hurt to find out how Ben handled the "Mum" problem, Gwen followed him into the dark, gloomy bedroom.

She was surprised when Ben completely ignored the light switch and chose to stay in the dark. Instead, he dived straight towards the telephone and punched the buttons. As the all-too familiar dial tone rang out loudly in the room, Gwen felt her heart sink. Feeling, if possible, even more awful, Gwen knew exactly where this was leading to, and she didn't like it.

Gwen thought of escaping before that happened, but an invisible held her back, forcing her to watch as the scene unfolded. The silence in the room was so thick that Gwen could hear the ringing from the receiver even those the phone wasn't on speaker. The tone repeated for three times before she heard her own voice coming from the other end. "Who's this?"

"It's me, your cuz." Ben's voice, miraculously, showed no sign of negative emotion. As a matter of fact, he seemed even slightly cheerful. This made Gwen ponder on the extent on which Ben could successfully mask his feelings. "You got time?"

"Just state it quick." Her voice from the phone was irritated, annoyed. Gwen remembered this conversation as if it were yesterday. If memory served, she was in the middle of her book "Gone with the Wind" on page five hundred and three when her cousin called. It was no wonder she sounded edgy. But now she seriously regretted her attitude towards Ben on the phone that night; only currently did she know just what the boy was going through, and yet she hadn't exactly been all nice to him when he called and stated his request.

"I need a tutor," Ben said quietly, without a trace of embarrassment. "I need someone to help me with my Math."

"And you're telling me…because?"

The boy took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you could help me."

Gwen's voice from the receiver was questioning. "Why not ask the teacher? Or your mom and dad?"

"I – you know Mr. Brown, he never really encourage students to ask questions." Ben was twitching uncomfortably as he said it. His eyes darted from the ceiling to the floor as he fumbled for a lie. "And my parents are always busy, so…"

Gwen never hated herself more at that moment. "Well, I'm busy too!" Was the snappy reply, "Why don't you just get yourself some worksheets? You could train yourself that way."

The red-head didn't understand how she could have missed the obvious disappointment in Ben's tone, even though fairly speaking she was pretty preoccupied by the most exciting book ever when the phone rang. "I…I guess…" The brunette sighed, closing his eyes in defeat. Without even saying goodbye, he hung up before the girl on the other side could say anything else.

Realizing just how it was like for Ben at home didn't help Gwen feel any better after being guilty of putting him in his coma. Of all Ben's history, she had to land in a recollection of the saddest and loneliest times Ben had to go through. Thinking about the poor boy being stuck in an unconscious state in reality made Gwen go back on track as she wondered how to move on to the next square. Suddenly conscious a soft crying sound issuing from within the pillows the girl had a the mad urge to get out of the room quick before her heart blew up from the sourness and pain.

The moment her body was free from the doorway and back into the thankfully-lighted corridor of the second floor, Gwen discovered that she was no longer in a house. She was standing in front of a closed-down candy shop on a deserted, extremely misty, gloomy, and way-creepy street.

Okay, maybe a lot of OOC with the Sandra thing. Yes, I'm trying to go for the extreme-emotion memories kind of deal, if you know what I mean. Next chapter, can you guess what happens? Ask yourself this question: What usually happens when one is on a street that's all foggy and colourless and all alone?

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