HOPE
Hope found herself back in her old prison cell, the walls closing in on her. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and decay. The cold metal of the handcuffs bit into her wrists, chaining her to the damp floor. Her long silver hair was matted, and her once powerful magic is suppressed by the dampening collar locked around her neck.
Outside the cell, muffled voices and footsteps echoed in the corridor, growing louder with each passing second. She knew what's coming next—the same routine, the same torment. Her heart pounded in her chest, but there's nowhere to run, no magic to save her.
The cell door creaked open, and the harsh, fluorescent light flooded the small, dark space. A shadow loomed over her—it's the guard. Her face was obscured by the light behind her, but she doesn't need to see her to know the sadistic grin she was wearing.
"Get up, witch. Time for your weekly bath." Her voice was sinister.
Her voice dripped with malice. Hope didn't move, her body frozen with fear, but her eyes burned with defiance. The guard stepped into the cell and yanked her up by the hair, dragging her out. Her feet scraped against the rough concrete, leaving bloody trails.
Before long, they had entered a small, windowless room filled with various instruments of torture—chains, whips, buckets of water. The guards threw Hope onto the floor and undressed her violently. Then, they picked her up and strapped her down tightly onto a metal table. The rough straps scraped across her bare skin. Her breathing became erratic, panic taking hold as she struggled against the restraints, but it's useless. Her small, naked body, riddled with past scars, scratches and bruises, shivered under the cold air.
"Let's see if the witch still has any fight left in her."
An inmate, just as cruel, stepped forward, holding a bucket of icy water. She poured it over her face, drenching her, and she gasped for breath, choking as the water entered her mouth and nose. They laughed at her struggle, their voices blending into a cacophony of mockery. It was as if her misfortune was an entertainment to the gathered crowd of guards and inmates alike.
"Not so tough now, are you? Where's your magic now, Hope?" One of the guards mocked her.
The words echoed in her mind, tearing at her sanity. The waterboarding began, her head forced back as the water continued to pour, cutting off her air supply. Every second felt like an eternity, her mind spiralling as her body desperately tried to survive. The weight of the water, the feeling of drowning—it was all-consuming.
Her vision blurred, darkness closing in as the lack of oxygen began to take its toll. Just as she was about to lose consciousness, they stopped. The guards let her choke and gasp for air, only to start the process over again. The cycle of torture and mockery continued until she's broken, her spirit crushed.
Hope bolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat, her eyes wide with terror. Her heart raced, and she struggled to catch her breath, the suffocating sensation still clinging to her throat. It took her a few moments to remember where she was—to realise she was no longer in that hellhole, but in Rook's apartment. She could hear Rook's snoring across the living room.
Her body shook uncontrollably, and tears stung her eyes. She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to ground herself back in reality. But the nightmare lingered, the phantom pain and terror refusing to let her go. She turned to look at Ben standing alone on the balcony.
Ben couldn't sleep either. He tossed around in his sleep, sweating despite sleeping shirtless in the cold night air. The disturbing images of Grandpa Max, Gwen and Kevin haunted him, as if his own mind was punishing himself, not allowing him to rest, driving him restless.
She rose from her bed and joined Ben on the balcony. Dawn was breaking in as the sun had reared itself at the horizons.
"You can't sleep?" Hope asked Ben.
"Yeah." Ben answered shortly. "You woke up."
Hope nodded. "It's a habit I developed from my time," she smiled sourly. "Everyone was onto me, I was always a light sleeper. Can't sleep soundly and deeply enough because the next thing I know, someone might try to kill me in my sleep."
Ben stared at her. Hope shrugged.
"Guards and inmates were not happy that I tried to end the world a couple of times." She chuckled. "My fellow inmates wouldn't stop abusing me. Waterboarding was every Thursday. Worst thing was that the guards let it keep going for years. They would only stop them when I was almost dead," she paused. "Sometimes I wished I did. When it first happened, I fought back. But it never stopped. It kept going and going, until it finally broke me. Even after my parole, I would wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of crickets."
"I'm sorry," Ben sighs, apologising for being the reason for her trauma.
"Don't be." Hope let out a small bitter laugh. "It gave me enough time to think. To reflect upon my life choices."
There was a long, sombre silence as they both enjoyed each other's company as the sun rose higher.
"Hope," Ben called out.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think-" Ben paused. "Do you think they can see me now? Grandpa Max? Gwen? Kevin?"
Hope realised Ben's voice was shaking. "I'm sure they do. And they want you to never give up." She replied, with hope in her voice.
Ben looked down to the street below, a lot foot below them. "Sometimes-" he stopped. "Sometimes I can hear them calling out to me."
Hope turned around and glanced at Ben in worry. "Hey, don't say that."
An image of Gwen's lifeless body, twisted in a puddle of her own blood at the pavement down below, suddenly flashed in Ben's mind. Ben's expression hardened.
"I'm going for a walk," Ben simply said.
Hope grew more worried. "Hey-" she bit her lips. "Are you okay?"
Ben nodded as he retreated back into Rook's bedroom. "I'll be okay. I promise." And with that, Ben left the room with Hope still standing on the balcony.
Rook stood in his small apartment kitchen, carefully flipping pancakes on the stove. The morning sun filtered through the blinds, casting soft golden light across the room. The air was filled with the warm, comforting smell of breakfast, and the sizzle of batter on the pan was the only sound in the quiet apartment.
He set the last pancake onto the growing stack and turned off the burner, feeling a sense of satisfaction. He'd made more than enough for the three of them—himself, Ben, and Hope. He turned around and walked slowly to his room, where Ben and Hope had slept in.
But as he reached closer to his room, his ears twitched at the sound of a soft voice coming from inside the bedroom. He paused, his brow furrowing. It was Hope. At first, he thought she might have been talking to Ben—but as he listened, he realised this was different. Her tone was softer, more tender than he'd ever heard it.
He moved closer to the door frame, ears pricked up as the conversation became clearer.
"—I know, sweetie. Mommy's sorry she couldn't call earlier," Hope's voice was fragile, filled with a tenderness that caught Rook off guard. "I miss you too… more than you know."
Rook froze in place, his heart skipping a beat. A son? His mind raced as he processed the words. Hope had a child?
He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the revelation held him there, anchored by the weight of it. Her voice, usually so guarded or laced with bitterness, had softened in a way he'd never imagined.
"Don't worry, I'll be home soon, and when I do, we'll get that chocolate ice cream I promised you, okay? I love you so much. You're the only thing that keeps me going."
There was a brief pause before Hope's voice came again, quieter this time, almost a whisper. "You be good for Mrs. Betty, alright? And remember, mommy loves you… always."
Rook blinked, taking a step back, guilt creeping up for overhearing something so deeply personal. His mind whirled. A son? He had never imagined Hope with a child. It explained so much—her distance, her moments of hesitation, the way she seemed to carry more weight than her past alone could explain.
The motel room door creaked open, and Rook straightened immediately. Hope stepped out, her face still soft from the conversation, but the moment she saw him, her expression shifted. There was a flicker of surprise, quickly masked by her usual guarded demeanour.
"I– uh, I made breakfast, if you guys eat that." Rook tried to play it cool, pointing to the stacks of pancakes on the kitchen counter. "Where's Ben?"
"He told me he's going out for a walk," Hope replied, but quickly realising Rook was trying to divert. She raised an eyebrow. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked, her tone sharp, but not unkind.
Rook hesitated, unsure how to respond. "I didn't mean to intrude, I'm sorry." He apologised, rubbing the back of his head, attempting to diffuse the tension.
Hope's eyes narrowed, clearly reading more into his words. She crossed her arms, her defences rising again, but Rook could see the weariness beneath them. "You heard, didn't you?"
He nodded, deciding not to lie. "I didn't mean to. I just—"
"Just what? Now you know." Her voice was bitter, but there was a tremor in it. "Is this the part where you judge me for keeping secrets? Or where you say I'm not fit to be a mother?"
Rook met her gaze, his voice calm and steady, cutting through the tension. "I would never say that. You're doing what you have to for him."
Hope blinked, clearly taken aback by his response. She had been prepared for confrontation, for judgement, but what she got was something else entirely. Understanding. It disarmed her in a way she wasn't ready for.
He's the only good thing I've ever done," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "The only thing that hasn't turned to ashes in my hands."
Rook stepped closer, his tone gentle but firm. "That means you still have something to fight for. A reason to keep moving forward."
For a moment, Hope's defences crumbled entirely. She looked away, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edges of her sleeves. "I don't know if I can protect him. Not from everything I've done... or the things I still have to face."
"You don't have to do it alone," Rook said softly. "Not anymore."
She glanced back at him, her eyes searching for any trace of pity or condescension, but she found none. Only sincerity. She swallowed hard, blinking back the sudden sting of tears.
"I've spent so long running," she said, her voice barely holding together. "From my past, from myself. I don't know if I even know how to stop."
Rook gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then maybe it's time you let someone else help carry that weight."
Hope didn't answer, but the tension in her shoulders eased slightly, and for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel quite so alone.
Rook didn't push her any further. He knew she needed time, and he would give her as much as she needed. But now, the dynamic between them has shifted. The revelation of her son had changed things—deepened their understanding of each other. Hope wasn't just a powerful sorceress or a woman running from her past. She was a mother, fiercely protective, and haunted by the fear of her own failures.
"The pancakes are getting cold," he said, stepping back to give her room to breathe. "Come on." He beckoned to Hope.
Rook walked back to the stove, Hope following him from behind. He reached out to the top shelf of the kitchen counter and brought out two clean plates. He offered Hope a plate, which she accepted gratefully.
They sat down and ate in silence, enjoying a plate of buttery goodness. Hope seemed to savour the pancakes, closing her eyes and relishing each bite, her cheeks puffed up with the mouthful. Across the table, Rook smirked and chuckled softly.
"Whaf?" Hope asked, her voice slightly muffled, still full of pancakes.
"Nothing," Rook replied, shaking his head, smiling.
Amidst all the chaos, it felt normal. And for the first time ever, though brief, like the rest of the world, they felt normal.
Ben found himself walking through familiar streets, the echoes of his past guiding his steps. Before long, he stood outside a house he knew all too well—a place that held both cherished memories and lingering ghosts. He stared at it from a distance, his heart pounding in his chest, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. He wasn't sure why he had come, or even if he was ready to face her after all these years.
He took a step back, ready to leave when, from the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar figure emerge from the side yard. A slender, tanned woman with long, dark hair tied loosely in a braid. Kai Green.
Ben hesitated, torn between confronting the past or letting it fade away. He turned to leave, but then—
"Ben?"
Her voice stopped him cold. It was soft, unsure, but filled with that same warmth he remembered. Ben turned around slowly, his lips tugging into a weak, tired smile.
"Kai," he breathed out, as if the mere act of saying her name aloud pained him.
Kai stepped closer, her expression a mixture of surprise and worry. She reached out, her hand gentle as it brushed his cheek, tracing the lines of exhaustion etched into his face. "You look... older," she said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "And tired."
Ben chuckled lightly, though the sound lacked real joy. "Yet you're still as pretty as I last remembered you."
Kai blushed, looking away for a moment as if his compliment embarrassed her, even now after all this time. "What are you doing here, Ben?" she asked, her voice quieter now, unsure.
Ben hesitated, searching for the right words. He had thought about this moment for so long, imagined all the things he might say, but now... Now that he stood here in front of her, words failed him. How could he tell her the truth? That he was dying. That the cancer was eating him from the inside out, and this might be the last time he'd ever see her.
But before he could speak, a small voice cut through the air, breaking the tension.
"Mommy! Mommy!"
A little girl, no older than five or six, came running out from behind Kai, her laughter pure and innocent. Kai bent down to pick her up, smiling warmly as she lifted the child into her arms.
Ben stared at the little girl, speechless. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "Is she... is she our—?"
Kai shook her head firmly before he could even finish the question, cutting off the words that neither of them were ready to say aloud. "No," she answered gently, but her tone was final. There was a pause, then she added, "Her name is Gwendoline."
Ben's heart clenched painfully at the sound of the name, his breath catching in his throat. "Gwen?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Kai nodded, her expression softening as she looked at the little girl in her arms. "It's the only way I could honour her," she said, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "Gwen was like a sister to me. After everything we went through... after we lost her..." Her words faltered, and for a moment, Ben saw the raw grief reflected in her eyes—the same grief that had haunted him for years.
Ben lowered his gaze, the weight of that loss crashing over him again. It felt like yesterday that Gwen was still alive, standing by his side, her fierce determination guiding them through every battle. And yet, yesterday felt so impossibly far away.
The little girl, sensing the heaviness between the two adults, waved shyly at Ben. "Hewwo," she said, her voice sweet and innocent, oblivious to the history and pain that hung in the air.
Ben managed a small, sad smile. "Hello, Gwendoline," he replied softly, his heart aching.
Kai set the little girl down gently, brushing her hair back. "Go play with your friends, okay? Mommy will be right there."
The girl nodded, gave Ben one last curious glance, then skipped off back to her group of friends, her laughter echoing through the yard.
Kai watched her go, the smile fading from her face as she turned back to Ben. "So," she began hesitantly, "what did you want to tell me?"
Ben swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it impossible to speak. He had come here to say goodbye, to leave some kind of closure before his time ran out. But now that he stood before her, he realised how selfish it felt—to burden her with the knowledge of his impending death, to make her carry the weight of his final days.
"I…" Ben started, but the words stuck. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "I was just… checking on you," he lied, his voice faltering.
Kai gave him a knowing look, her lips curling into a soft smile. "Ben, you've always been a terrible liar."
He smiled weakly, the same sheepish grin he used to give her when they were younger—back when the world felt simpler, when being a hero didn't come with so much loss.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he added, his voice soft, almost pleading.
Kai's expression softened, her eyes scanning his face as if trying to read the unspoken words he was too afraid to say. She stepped closer, her hand resting on his arm. "Ben... what's really going on?"
For a moment, he almost told her. Almost let the truth spill out—the cancer, the treatments that weren't working, the ticking clock that was counting down faster than he could keep up with. But he couldn't. Not now. Not when he could see how much peace she had found, how much life she had built for herself after everything that had happened.
Instead, he forced a smile. "I just have to go away for a while," he said, shrugging lightly as if it were no big deal. "Hero stuff, you know? End of the world, saving it again… the usual." He tried to sound casual, but the weight of his words betrayed him.
Kai raised an eyebrow, her lips quivering into a smirk. "The end of the world again? You're back at it already?"
Ben shrugged, trying to keep the mood light. "Yeah, I figured, why not? One more time for old times' sake."
Kai chuckled softly, shaking her head. But there was something more in her gaze now—something deeper. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle, warm hug. He stiffened at first, but then, slowly, he melted into the embrace, letting her familiar scent and warmth wash over him.
Kai kissed him softly on the cheek, lingering just long enough for the gesture to mean more than words. When she pulled back, her eyes were teary, but she smiled through it. "I don't know what you're going through right now, Ben. But whatever it is… just promise me you'll take care of yourself."
Ben's resolve crumbled, his breath hitching as tears welled up in his eyes. "Kai..." His voice cracked, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I still love you… I never stopped."
Kai closed her eyes, her tears slipping free. She nodded, not meeting his gaze. "I know," she whispered. "I know you still do, Ben Tennyson. But you have to be strong. The world needs you." She stepped back, her hand falling away from his arm. "The world needs Ben 10, once again."
Ben wiped his eyes, trying to compose himself. Her words grounded him, gave him the strength to push back the despair threatening to swallow him whole.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He quickly glanced at the screen—it was Rook.
"Ben, we've got a problem," Rook's voice was urgent. "Surveillance cameras just picked up an intruder at the Hoover Dam Plumber Base. It's Vilgax."
Ben's face hardened. "What's he planning to do this time?"
"I don't know yet, but we need to stop him. We're on our way. Meet us there."
Ben hung up the phone and looked at Kai, who was already watching him expectantly. She smirked, her eyes twinkling with the same fire he remembered from their adventures together.
"Well?" she asked playfully.
Ben smiled, the weight lifting off his shoulders just a little. "It's hero time."
Kai grinned, stepping back to let him go. "Go get 'em, Tyger."
With renewed determination, Ben nodded and sprinted away from Kai, leaving the past behind but carrying its lessons with him.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt ready for what was to come.