Shades Of Self Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Ben 10 does not belong to me, although it is on my Christmas list…

Well, this is officially my longest story now, yay!

Warnings:

Self harm

Depression

Emotional/mental manipulation

"It is not always possible to fight or to strive for something better. Sometimes it is all you can do to survive."

-A saying of Martok The Wanderer

Four Years Ago

Ben was mesmerized by his window.

After Vilgax left, he stayed for a long time in front of the transparent wall, just looking, soothed by the wind-tossed branches and the ripples on the water. Eventually hunger made him retreat slightly, and he reluctantly investigated the covered dish that was waiting for him. Breakfast was what he had expected it to be, but he was able to bring the metal plate back to the window, and it helped to occupy his mind while he ate.

The view wasn't spectacular; just a slice of jungle and marsh now that the lizard-thing had flown away, but it was something outside of this room that he could look at, something different. There were living things out there, and when they moved with the wind it seemed to loosen something in Ben's chest that he didn't even know had been wound up tightly. It soothed some of his feelings of being confined and relaxed him a little.

It was also the only thing in this room that felt like it was his.

After that awful day of his failed escape attempt, when he had lost the clothes he had been captured in and had been commanded to never run away, Ben had felt especially vulnerable, poised on the edge of a precipice, with only a slight shove needed to send him over. There was nothing physical left of his home that he could cling to, and nothing to bring him even a modicum of comfort. The only thing he had left was the omnitrix which Vilgax, for whatever reason, had decided not to take away. But even the comfort the omntrix brought him was diluted by Vilgax's restrictions on using it. He wasn't able to escape into his alien forms except when his captor permitted it. And, of course, the omnitrix was the reason he was here. Vilgax would never have been interested in him if the device hadn't latched onto him in the first place. The omnitrix was his, but it did not distract from his situation.

Now Ben had something else that felt like it belonged to him, that wasn't just food or a bed or this hateful room and he wanted it, despite the fact that it was a gift from his captor.

Vilgax had given him something. Why? What reason could Vilgax have for giving his captive a gift?

That thought made him grit his teeth, that feeling of resentment butting back in. But regardless of how or why it had happened, he wanted his window. It broke up the monotony of the tiny room he was trapped in and made the confinement slightly more bearable. He wanted that feeling.

And that was the problem.

Ben didn't know why Vilgax had given him his window, but he knew that the monster could take it away just as easily, and that realization was frightening. He shouldn't let himself get too attached.

Tearing his gaze away from the green, moist leaves, Ben crossed the small room to his bed. He sat cross-legged on the mattress, forcing his eyes away from the transparent space in his wall. He looked down at his hands instead. He needed to think this through. As inscrutable as the alien's motives often were, maybe he could figure out why Vilgax had done this, and what might make him take it back. He grimaced, one hand closing unconsciously around his collar. Why was Vilgax doing this to him? All of this? Was it really just because he wanted Ben to be his pet?

Was the window…a reward?

Ben's mouth felt suddenly dry. He had called Vilgax 'master' last night, and slept in the alien's room, actually in the alien's lap. And this morning he had gone willingly with Vilgax to that meeting room. He had even let the alien pet him without trying to fight him.

Did Vilgax think he had finally given up and stopped fighting?

Had he given up?

Ben groaned and bundled his blanket in his lap with one arm, burying his face in it. His other hand tightened around his collar.

Did it even matter if he figured out the alien's motives? He wouldn't be able to change anything. Vilgax would do whatever he wanted anyway. Ben was stuck here, trapped with no way out and no one to help him. Vilgax could do anything he liked to him and Ben's only option was to stand there and take it. If the alien decided to take away his window he would, and there would be nothing Ben could do to stop him. Vilgax could treat him like a dog, lock him up in a cage, pick him up and pet him as much as he wanted. Ben couldn't stop him. Ben's gaze darted to the door and his breaths quickened, although he didn't notice. If Vilgax wanted him to stay trapped in this room forever, that's what would happen. He wouldn't even need to close the door. If Vilgax wanted to deny him food or water; if the alien wanted Ben to sit here and slowly starve to death then that was exactly what would happen. All he had to do was say the word.

Ben felt dizzy suddenly and gasped in a great lungful of air. He became aware of the ache in his neck where the collar was digging into it, of the ache in his hand which was wrapped around it, and released the smooth metal immediately. His fingers were stiff. Slowly, he drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping both arms around them protectively.

I can't do this.

The thought came again, from that place it always seemed to be waiting in, and normally Ben would have tried to brush it away, but this time it engulfed him, along with that familiar helpless dread.

"What am I supposed to do?"

He didn't even know who he was asking, only that he desperately needed an answer. He couldn't escape, couldn't so much as try. Would someone come to rescue him if he kept holding out? Was anyone even looking for him? Grandpa and Gwen must think he was dead by now. So far as they knew, that had always been Vilgax's objective. They had surely looked for him at first, maybe even tried to intercept the ship, but they must have lost hope after all this time. Grandpa wouldn't risk going up against Vilgax for the sake of a dead grandson.

No one's coming to save you. They're not looking for you anymore. You're alone.

He buried his face in his knees, breath hitching but eyes dry. The dizziness was back. He felt light-headed from his rapid, panicked breaths, but he didn't even notice them. Ben had always hated being alone. He didn't really have any friends in school, but that hadn't been by choice. Ben liked people. He wanted to be around them, hear their voices, pass them on the street, talk to them. It felt like ages since he had even seen another person. The loneliness was like a dark empty pit inside him, a pit that was slowly growing deeper.

Truly he'd known there was no rescue coming for a while, just as he'd known the power Vilgax held over him. He hadn't let them in, but the thoughts had always been there, waiting.

I want to go home.

Ben fisted his hands in the soft material of his black pants.

I want to go home! I don't want this. I don't want it. I don't want to be here anymore!

He pressed his head into his knees until he could feel the kneecaps pushing hard against his skull.

I just want this to be over.

But there was something else he had known and hadn't wanted to think about; something else which twisted inside him like a hot poker in his stomach.

It doesn't matter what you want.

It hadn't mattered since that day which felt so long ago, since he had surrendered to his enemy in Bellwood. From that moment on he hadn't had a single choice, hadn't been able to change a single thing. He had pushed back against Vilgax, but hadn't accomplished anything, hadn't even caused an inconvenience for his enemy. He'd simply been swept along in an overwhelming tide. From the very beginning, there had only been one way forward.

The only choice you have is to obey.

Ben suddenly lurched forward, hands gripping his sheets as he leant over the edge of his bed and threw up.

He hung there for a minute gagging, stomach still heaving, feeling like his brain was floating between his ears. He coughed at the acid in his throat and spat into the mess, hands trembling as they gripped the sheets. He took a few slow, deep breaths. He was shaking a little. He spat again, then drew back gingerly onto the bed. His stomach was tight and it hurt, but he didn't think he was actually sick. He felt stressed almost to the point of panic and his heart was sore in his chest. He had felt overstressed before, pushed past his limit, but nothing like this, even when things were at their worst.

A few tears had formed in his aching eyes again, and Ben closed them, trying to ignore the foul taste in his mouth. He didn't want to cry. It seemed like lately that was all he did. His stomach gave a twinge and he leant back against the wall, trying to give it some relief, and concentrated on slowing his breathing. In, hold, release. The breaths were shaky at first, but gradually steadied. After a minute the pain subsided somewhat as well. The dark thoughts had also retreated for the moment; no longer swamping him, but they were still there. Ben thought they always would be.

Ben didn't want to move, but he needed something to rinse out his mouth, and so he pushed himself up slowly. In the bathroom, he cupped his hands under the tap, rinsed out his mouth and drank a little too, relieving the burning sensation in his throat. The water tasted especially sweet. After rinsing, he scrubbed his wet hands over his face. It felt good and he wet them under the tab again and repeated the action. Then he did it a third time before stopping reluctantly.

Ben rubbed his face roughly with a cloth, then looked up into the small mirror. His face was pale and his mouth was set in a tight line. He still had some bags under his eyes, and these were red and sore.

"What now?" he asked softly. His voice sounded strange in the silence of his room.

He stood for a moment, almost as though he was waiting for an answer, though he knew there wouldn't be one. He was the only one here, after all. Ben turned away stiffly. He grabbed another of the grey cloths from their stone shelf, wet it under the tap, and went back into the main part of his room to clean up the mess by his bed.

Once the stone floor was clean, Ben noticed that a mist had settled into the marsh outside his window. He sat back on his bed, tucking his legs underneath him, and watched the white curls of moisture. He tried not to think. Time passed slowly, but at least it was still passing.

Evening came eventually. Ben's stomach was still knotted and a little sore, though he hadn't thrown up again. He still felt tense, and he kept catching himself breathing too quickly and had to force himself to slow down. He ate his supper with difficulty.

His room still felt small and cramped. It still felt like a cage. And it was lonely. It was dull and quite; too quiet with only him here. Ben rubbed his arms. The dark thoughts were swirling again, and there were no distractions to keep them at bay. The window had helped for a while, but the view wasn't changeable enough to occupy his mind, or to truly distract him from the small space he was confined in. His chest ached. He closed his right hand reflexively around his left arm, just above the omnitrix. Slowly he dragged his fingers across the skin, nails digging in just enough to leave angry white lines. He stopped abruptly at the pain, and felt another rush of shame at the scratches he had left, which turned from white to red as he watched. They stung. Ben sucked in a painful breath.

He needed to get out of here, at least for a little while. Unfortunately, there was only one other place he was allowed to go. He didn't want to see Vilgax again, but being here with only his thoughts for company was worse. He couldn't be alone here any longer, and Vilgax was all there was.

Slowly, almost mechanically, Ben crossed to the stone door and pushed it open. He didn't let himself think about what he was doing, about how shameful it was. He didn't let himself think at all. This was the only thing he could do.

As he walked through the dimly lit corridors, Ben found his misery lessening just slightly. Walking felt good, like he was doing something, going somewhere. His mind was pleasantly blank at least for those few minutes, and the sound of his footsteps on the stone blocks was soothing.

He paused when he reached the corridor to Vilgax's rooms, unpleasant memories of last night rising once again. He let them rush through him for a moment, then they subsided. They didn't really matter right now. He knew that he was going to continue on despite them. It didn't seem to matter what Vilgax did to him; he couldn't be in that room any more, and he couldn't be alone any more. Still, his steps were hesitant down that final corridor, and his heart seemed to beat more quickly.

The door was expectantly ajar again, and Ben pushed it open as quietly as he could. It opened onto a delicately misty space, lit by the red light of a sinking sun. Vilgax was not at his desk this evening. He was seated on one end of the leathery couch, studying what looked like a large tablet. When he saw Ben, Vilgax's tentacle tips rippled gently.

"Come in Ben." The rough voice was low and soft, almost a purr, and Ben bit his lip and nodded, sidling into the room, but staying near the door. He sat with his back to the wall, as he had the last time he was here. For a while they sat in silence, Vilgax apparently engrossed in his tablet and Ben watching the vivid sunset gradually dim. Strangely, Ben found himself relaxing a little, although he still remained wary of the alien across the room.

The sun set, but once it was fully down, Ben noticed that there was a surprising amount of light still in the sky. He wondered if it was caused by a second sun, still up, or an especially bright moon, or something else unique to this planet. He felt an ache in his chest, familiar and painful. He wanted to be out there, exploring and finding the answers to his questions. How long was Vilgax planning to keep him trapped in here? The thought trickled into his mind that he should get used to it. Lots of pets weren't allowed outside.

Ben hugged his knees more tightly and took a calming breath. He looked up again and found Vilgax looking at him. When Ben met his gaze, the alien stretched one hand out towards him, wiggling the fingers slightly.

"Come here, boy," he said, still in that soft rumble.

Ben looked back at him dully, feeling dread pool in his stomach. It didn't really sound like an order, but Vilgax had yet to tell him to do anything without being prepared to back it up with a command. No doubt there would be one coming if he didn't obey. Ben wasn't really surprised though. He had known this would probably happen, and he had come anyway.

His captor was waiting, and Ben forced himself to his feet and made his way over. It wasn't as though he had a choice, and he didn't think he could face the futile resistance and the command that would follow. And he didn't really want to make Vilgax angry. He didn't want to lose his window.

When the boy was close enough, Vilgax's hand extended again and Ben flinched, tensing as it ran over his hair, but didn't struggle as it then closed around him. He sucked in a deep breath and held it when he was lifted and set on the leathery cushion. The hand released him. He was very close to Vilgax now, but at least not actually in the alien's lap like last night. Ben fisted his hands in the loose material of his pants again and looked down, staring at his feet, which were hanging over the edge of the couch.

"Good boy," Vilgax purred and Ben's clenched hands tightened as his hair was stroked again. "Don't be afraid. I will never hurt you."

Ben didn't respond, instead focusing on keeping his breathing steady. Vilgax didn't seem to mind. After a few minutes he stopped stroking Ben and went back to his tablet. Ben relaxed his clenched hands, but continued to sit where Vilgax had placed him, tense and shooting sidelong glances at his captor every now and then.

Much to Ben's relief, Vilgax did not make him stay there for the night. After what felt like a long time, when the mysterious light from outside had disappeared and it was well and truly dark, Ben stirred and made a cautious move as if to climb off of the couch. Vilgax glanced up, but didn't try to stop him, and Ben slid to the ground.

"Sleep well, little one."

Ben felt his face heat up at his captor's words, and a strange ache throbbed in his chest. He ducked his head, but didn't respond, and he didn't look back at Vilgax as he retreated out the door. He headed back to his room, forced himself through the door and bundled himself into his bed, cooling his face on the pillow. There was moon or starlight shining through his window, and despite everything it was soothing. Ben's head was aching a little, and his chest and stomach still felt unnaturally tight. He pulled the blankets up to his chin and hugged the omnitrix close to his chest. He watched the square of soft, silver light until his eyes closed involuntarily.

He didn't notice when he fell asleep.

The next three days formed a sort of routine. After breakfast in the mornings, Vilgax arrived. As he had the night after Ben's breakdown, the alien gave Ben the option of accompanying him wherever he was going before the boy's training. Ben agreed each time. He didn't like following his captor around, or the looks he got from those they passed, but it was still better than staying trapped in his room. At least he was able to see people, even if he was kept at a distance from them, and he was given some time away from his cramped, lonely room.

One morning, Vilgax inspected a new armored vehicle of some kind in the basement of the giant building. It looked something like a tank, but was sleeker and more aerodynamic. The aliens who were building it seemed very eager to show off their work, and stumbled over each other in their explanations. The next morning, Vilgax met with several Swampfire aliens to discuss some kind of building project which was taking place elsewhere on the planet. Ben enjoyed the detailed holograms, although it made him a little sad that the development required cutting through a big swathe of lush jungle. On earth he wouldn't have even taken notice of it, but here his thoughts tended to dwell on things like that. On the third morning, Vilgax met with several aliens in hologram form who were projecting from some of his ships and listened to their reports. One of them was the insect-like alien Trisaara, and Ben felt his heart sink as he learned that her invasion had been successful, the plumber force routed, and Prosious conquered. One consolation was that he didn't hear anything about Grandpa Max, and Ben let himself continue hoping that he hadn't been involved in the plumber's defense force.

After these 'errands,' Vilgax always took him to the arena for training. His captor had started giving him a longer amount of time to use the omnitrix now, for which Ben was relieved. He was allowed to remain in his alien forms until he was tired from the training, and didn't really mind turning back. Ben still missed being able to change whenever he wanted, but at least he no longer felt like an over-inflated balloon in between sessions. The training was also more varied than the simple fighting Ben had experienced initially, and provided some much needed relief for him mentally as well as physically.

Once training was finished, Ben was returned to his room. He showered, ate and watched his window, pacing when the boredom and silence got to him. He had times of heightened stress and tension, but nothing bad enough that he was sick again. His days were bearable. However, by the time evening came, Ben always found himself returning to his captor's room, unable to stay in that little stone box any longer. He would sit by the door until Vilgax called him over, which usually took a little while. Ben never moved closer on his own, but he didn't resist the order when it came, even though he knew what would follow. The alien would then pick him up and seat him beside himself, and Ben would remain there until he left for bed. While Ben was seated beside him, Vilgax would stroke his head and back intermittently, and speak to him in that quiet voice that made Ben's chest hurt. Ben sat stiffly during this, and his eyes were usually focused on his feet or on the evening sky outside. It was easier if he pretended it wasn't happening. His evenings certainly weren't pleasant but, like his days, they were bearable.

When Ben finally got back to his room he would huddle into his bed until sleep claimed him. He hated that he had become so obedient, so docile, and every time Vilgax touched him it left his skin crawling. Once away from the alien's presence and buried in his bed the guilt and misery would slowly swallow him up like a stagnant swamp which clung to his mind until he managed to fall asleep, but it was never enough to stop him from going back the next evening.

On the fourth day, something changed.

Ben wanted out. Not just out of his room, but out of this suffocating building; out into the tantalizing jungle that he could only see a tiny slice of from his or Vilgax's window. It was a longing that tugged at his heart during the long hours he spent staring outside. He knew it was only a pale echo of his real desires, of his need to be at home with his family, but that didn't make it any less potent.

Ben felt that this desire had been building for a while, ever since they had landed on this planet and he had felt the gentle rain, but he hadn't let himself voice it, even inside his head. He knew what he would have to do if he requested something of Vilgax, and that was one more piece of himself that he didn't want to give his captor. However, by that fourth day his determination was weakening. Would it really be so awful to make that concession one more time? It wasn't as though it would be admitting something he hadn't already. He bit his lip at the thought and looked down at his clasped hands.

Ben was currently seated beside the alien, one of Vilgax's clawed hands rhythmically stroking down his back, and it seemed so useless to stand on his pride.

I'm not going anywhere. The thought was back. He wasn't going to be saved, and he wasn't able to escape from here. He wasn't even trying anymore, hadn't been for a while. This was his life now. At least for…for now, and this was something he might be able to do to make it just that tiny bit less awful.

He glanced up at his…at Vilgax, and he wasn't sure whether he was fighting to say the words or to keep them in.

"Master?" He winced as he said it, as if the word was painful, and it seemed too loud in his ears even though he knew he'd spoken barely above a whisper. The reaction was immediate. Vilgax's hand stilled, although it remained resting against the small of Ben's back.

"Yes, Ben?" The alien's voice was calm, his voice unreadable. Only the tips of his tentacles quivered as though they were vibrating.

"Can I…" Ben closed his eyes, gathering himself under the expectant red gaze. His tongue slipped out, moistening suddenly dry lips. "Will you let me go outside?" He looked up again sharply after speaking, though he found it hard to meet the alien's eye. Vilgax was silent for a few moments and Ben could practically feel him thinking. He didn't breathe as he waited.

Then Vilgax removed his hand. Reaching out with the other, he placed one claw under Ben's chin, tilting his face upward just slightly. His red eyes were intense and Ben blinked under the scrutiny, though he didn't pull away.

"I am afraid not, little one. At least, not yet." Ben blinked again, rapidly. He felt as though his chest was being squeezed in a vice. "However," Vilgax continued, "I will consider. Your conduct is much improved lately." He stroked Ben's cheek with one claw, still holding his chin with the same hand. Ben flinched slightly, but remained still. "Continue to behave well, and we will see."

Ben didn't respond. He swallowed with difficulty around the hard lump in his throat. He would have liked to say something back; something snide or defiant, but he didn't seem to have any of those comments left inside him. Besides, it wouldn't mean anything anymore; not after giving in the way he had. Vilgax took his hand away and Ben breathed out a shaky breath. He felt slightly light-headed and dropped his gaze again. Vilgax began to stroke Ben's back again, and Ben jumped at the first touch before stilling. He sat stiffly on the couch and let it happen, and tried to focus on keeping his breaths deep and even.

He wasn't okay; wasn't even close, but he was managing, and that was all he could do for now.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm so happy that everyone is reading and enjoying this story. I couldn't do it without you all.

Wow, Ben's panic attack surprised me. He's been here long enough now that it's starting to sink in. Certainly he's gone through enough to have a few breakdowns. I hope the scene worked. I tried some different things with it. I think Ben's been spending too much time alone. Too bad there's only one other person he can spend time with.

There will probably start being some time jumps in the next chapter. Just little ones to start. I did a little summarizing with Ben's three days. I hope it worked okay. I felt like I needed to start summarizing some things, but it's hard because my inclination is to tell everything that happens to him. I easily could have spent a chapter on each of those days. ;)

Right now I am doing my once a month updating of one of my stories, and it's been working so far. When I have more time, updating will speed up. Next up is probably Memories Make Us, Anniversary or chapter 21 for this story!

See you soon!