Chapitre 23: Adrift
"Gwendolyn?" Natalie knocked on her daughter's door. "May I come in?"
No reply. The woman sighed, turning the handle and slowly pushing the door open.
The interior of the bedroom was dark- not oppressively so, but the curtains were drawn and it cast the normally cozy and tidy bedroom in gloom.
Gwen was reading a book on her bed by the light of a small lamp. She looked for all the world completely normal like that, or she would have, if she didn't have bags under her eyes and was clearly not actually reading.
"Didn't you hear me?" Natalie asked, trying not to let any annoyance bleed into her voice. It was tough going.
"Lost in my book." Gwen answered, not looking up. Natalie quirked a brow.
"Your book is upside down."
Gwen was silent for a moment before deflating. "Fine. I was staring into space. Happy?"
"Not in the slightest." Natalie mused, walking over to Gwen's desk chair and pulling some obviously dirty laundry from it. She snorted delicately. "You're getting as sloppy as-"
In the corner of her eye, she saw Gwen tense up. Inwardly, she sighed. Same as for the last three days, it seemed. 'They had a fight.' Max had said, but hadn't elaborated. She was surprised it was taking this long for them to recover from it, though- they hadn't lingered on fights for more than a day when they'd actively despised each other.
It should have been even easier for them to make up now. Yet here they were. "-as Lizzie." She finally finished. It ought to be close enough. She had only met the girl once, but Gwen often complained about how it was like 'having another Ben around'.
If Gwen noticed the flimsiness of her save, she let it slide. The girl shrugged. "If I can't see it, why bother?"
"If you can't see it, you'll trip over it." Natalie shot back, turning back to face her daughter fully. "But speaking of that, why is it so dark in here?"
She already knew, really. It was the same reason Gwen didn't go into the garden- or outside at all, really. It was the same reason that she kept nervously glancing towards the dining room's window during dinner the last few days- until Frank had complained about 'the sun's glare' and closed the curtain. None of them had pointed out it had been a cloudy day.
Gwen's fear of greenery in most of its forms was back in full swing. Natalie was silently grateful she at least ate her greens still- even if she did it with a ferocity that Gwen usually reserved for her martial arts lessons.
The girl remained silent. Natalie exhaled, softly, making her way over to Gwen's bed and slowly sitting down on it. It felt like approaching a cornered, wounded animal. She slowly extended a hand, resting it on Gwen's knee. The girl tensed.
"What's going on, Gwen?" She tried, gently. For a long moment, it looked like Gwen was going to tell her, her eyes watery and tired, so large and pleading, but her expression closed down in a flash.
"Nothing is going on." The girl finally got out, rolling over to face away from Natalie.
The woman wrestled down her temper. Stubborn pride was a hallmark of their family, but more so from her side than the Tennyson one. Of all the traits Gwen had to get from her, she wouldn't have minded if that one had been lost.
She tried again, moving her hand to Gwen's shoulder, but not trying to turn her around. Not yet anyway. "I think there is." She asked. "If I can be blunt, sweetheart, I thought we were passed having to tell you that you can ask for help." She stressed, hoping to remind Gwen that she could always come to Natalie-
"I thought therapy sessions were on Wednesdays and Fridays." Gwen bit out. Natalie bit back her own sharp retort. She knew Gwen wasn't sleeping well and was on edge, but she was still surprised at how much backtalk she was getting.
"I'm not asking as your therapist." Natalie countered. "I'm asking as your mother, who cares about you, and wants to help you-"
"You can't help me!" Gwen yelled suddenly, startling Natalie back when the girl whirled around, eyes filled with tears. "Everyone tried, he tried, but if even he couldn't- it's just-" Gwen deflated, turning back around. "Forget it. Just, leave me alone." She curled in on herself, a small bundle of tension and misery. "Please."
Natalie bit her lip, deliberating. Finally, she nodded. "So long as you know we're going to talk about this eventually."
Gwen waved her off, snappishly. "Yes yes, that's what the sessions are for."
The girl didn't know how much it relieved Natalie that Gwen had seemingly internalized their sessions as moments where she could spill her guts. Considering that getting these kids to actually talk was the biggest hurdle to helping them, that was very important. She sighed, leaning in to place a kiss on Gwen's hair.
"I love you." She told her, rising to her feet. "Are you going to school tomorrow?"
Gwen remained silent and still for a long moment before she spoke up, voice meek. "Can one of you bring me to school? I don't..." the girl swallowed, "I don't want to go by bike."
"I don't want to be exposed." Is what Natalie heard. She nodded. "I'm sure that can be arranged." She moved towards the door. "Shall I bring you some tea, or are you going to come down and get it yourself?"
"...is it tea time already?"
Honestly, Natalie would smile at how endearingly meek Gwen was being, if it wasn't also breaking her heart into a million pieces.
"It is. The sun's going down, too." She added. 'Which would mean that the curtains will be closed.' She didn't say.
Gwen was sharp enough to pick it up. "I'll come get it in a bit." She finally relented before pulling a blanket over herself.
Natalie bit back another sigh- she was doing that too much- opening the door again, but Gwen's voice made her pause.
"I love you too." The girl whispered.
Natalie smiled a slightly broken smile, gently shutting the door behind her. Gwen was hiding away, for sure, but she was still letting herself be found. Natalie would have to hope that it would be enough to see them through to their next sessions, where she'd be allowed to really get digging.
But perhaps a few more phone calls with Carl and Sandra were needed. Gwen wasn't her only patient.
And the two were so intertwined, she was willing to bet that knowing how Ben was doing would be instrumental to approaching Gwen properly too.
But first, she was going to make a pot of Gwen's favorite tea. She took a moment to breathe.
'You can't help me!'
She shuddered and went downstairs.
Frank found her while the water was coming to a boil.
"How is she?" He asked without preamble, placing his book on the kitchen table and leaning against the counter beside her.
Natalie hesitated. "She… said she'd come down to get tea herself." She finally settled on. Which was more than either parent had seen of her since Friday. It was something of a step. Even if that step felt so very small. Her hand shook on their box of tea flavors.
Larger hands gently coaxed it from her, putting it on the table and engulfing her tiny digits after. She closed her eyes, exhaling a shuddering breath.
"And how are you?" He asked, softly, gently. Like he had been for as long as she knew him. Soft and gentle. She hoped Ben had some of that in him too.
"I'm… fine." She said. To an untrained ear, her voice would likely have passed as being level. But she knew Frank could hear how watery it was, surely as she could.
'You can't help me!'
"You're crying, sweetheart." Frank told her, gently. Natalie blinked back the beginning of tears. Leave it to Frank to worship the ground she walked on while simultaneously not let her get away with trying to have a breakdown in peace, thank you.
She'd be mad about it if it wasn't what she loved about him, too.
"I just-" she exhaled, harshly, closing her eyes and leaning into his embrace. He put his arms around her eagerly, steadying. She sucked in a deep breath. "I feel like every time we make any headway, we're just unearthing another layer of rot." She confessed, recalling her conversation with Sandra and Frank. About the news clip-outs. About all the monsters.
About all the times when the kids were far too close to them.
"But you are making that headway. The rot's got to run out at some point." Frank returned with a conviction she didn't feel. Not today. She snorted, burrowing into his shoulder.
"You call our daughter hiding away in her room because she's afraid to go outside 'headway'? Christ, Frank, she's even worse off than when she got home! And I shudder to think how Ben is doing."
"Patients have relapses." Frank countered, mimicking her intonation to a T. "You told me this a thousand times. You told me that that is no reason to give up. You know this." He pulled back, looking her in the eye, brushing a lock from her face. "I'm not as smart as you, dear, but I can tell there's more on your mind than this."
The water reached boiling point and she broke the embrace to pour it into the tea pot, taking time to compose herself. Frank waited patiently.
Putting the tea bags into the pot, she let it stew, and settled in to wait. Eventually, she spoke up, voice barely a whisper.
"What if it's not a just a relapse?" She asked, refusing to meet her husband's gaze. "What if they keep backsliding, keep not letting me help them, because I can't?" She asked, feeling broken, Gwen's words ringing in her ears.
'You can't help me!'
Frank hummed, thoughtful. "You don't usually doubt yourself when it comes to patients, love."
"Most patients aren't my daughter or my nephew." She returned, snappishly, even if it held no true heat. She was feeling far too faint for that.
Frank smiled, a hand delicately brushing her elbow, just the faintest hint of touch. She thought of all the casual presses Ben and Gwen exchanged. Perhaps that, too, ran more deeply than she gave it credit for. "You can help them, Nat."
Natalie stilled. "Can I?" She asked, softly. It was a hint of doubt, of vulnerability that she would never allow herself to feel under any other circumstances. If her heart wasn't in this, it wouldn't work. But that didn't mean she didn't... waver.
Frank shrugged, seemingly carefree, but she could see the fragility in the move. "What I know is that, out of all of us, you can help them. I can't. The rest of is can't." He admitted, anguish creeping into his voice. "Maybe it's unfair to pin my hopes on you, but it's all I can do- that, and try to support you as best I can."
She hung her head. Even if it wasn't what she wanted to hear, she could not begrudge him the need to believe. She felt it just as strongly. But it was always easier to believe in someone else than in yourself. "I'm trying, Frank. But I can't do it alone, or with your support. I need them to want to do it too." She said, glancing at the clock on the wall, seeing the minutes tick by with no sign of Gwen whatsoever. She felt her heart sink. "I need them to believe that I can help them."
'You can't help me!'
"But how am I supposed to help them recover if I can't even help my own daughter enough that she'll come down for tea-"
The faint sound of footsteps in the hall made her pause. Frank glanced towards the hall, tense as she was.
Seconds ticked by before Gwen appeared on the threshold of their kitchen, haltingly shuffling into the room. In the evening light, her daughter looked far worse than in the gloom of her room. Her hair was mussed, though not unclean, and her face was drawn with prominent circles around her eyes. Her movements were jerky and her form was tense as she shuffled forward, every step looking like it was actively forced.
Natalie saw in it all the reasons why she could not fail. She saw all the reasons why she was terrified at the very idea.
But even if she and Frank only had eyes for Gwen, the girl was focused like a laser on the pot of tea and the cups next to it.
She didn't acknowledge either of her parents, though not out of malice, Natalie thought. Rather, she felt that Gwen was simply preoccupied with being there, with making it there. The girl reached for the pot, lifting it with shaking hands, and poured herself a cup. She shook so badly that she spilled some on the counter, but no one said a word.
She had to try three times before her hands were steady enough to pick up the cup, and even then they were too shaky to even attempt a drink. Finally, Gwen looked up to meet her parents' eyes.
The girl's expression was the picture of abject misery.
But she had come downstairs. And she was trying. Natalie had to cling to that.
"You did good, pumpkin." Frank finally broke the silence. "You can go back upstairs, if you want."
Gwen didn't need to be told twice, immediately spinning around and making for the stairs with far quicker steps now that she was running away from her fears. Natalie halted her on the threshold.
"Gwendolyn," she called out, pausing, not entirely sure what to say. In the end, she just went with her gut. "I'm- we're, proud of you." She told her daughter.
Gwen didn't respond for a long, long moment. Then she whispered "Thank you for the tea," and made her way back upstairs.
Her steps might have been calmer, but Natalie wasn't sure.
"Do you… do you want me to go?" He asked, not knowing how far he'd even be able to go before either her fears or his dragged him back.
Gwen's eyes were huge, wet and green when she looked at him, filled with misery and a sort of resignation.
She nodded.
Ben exhaled, slowly, forcing himself to look down at his wrist. At the Omnitrix.
Still green. He stressed to himself. Not orange. Not red. Green. I'm fine. Gwen's… not fine.
"D'you think Gwen is moping too?" Lizzie's voice tore Ben from inside his own head. He blinked, refusing to acknowledge the stinging of his eyes, the schoolyard coming into focus, the wall that he was leaning on solidifying against his back- and the sound of his friends on either side of him.
"Knowing these two… absolutely." Anna replied, literally over his head.
"I'm right here, guys." Ben muttered, his eye catching on the Omnitrix peeking out from the sleeve of his coat. He shoved his hands in his pocket, actively refusing to give it any mind.
It worked. Mostly. His shoulder ached.
Lizzie ignored his complaint. "How do you know? Maybe he's grumbly because the chili fries were sold out."
"I am not 'grumbly'." He… grumbled. Darn it.
Anna shook her head, blonde hair whipping around. "He's too sad for that. Just look at him," she gestured to all of him, "have you ever seen a sadder puppy?"
"Still right here, guys." He snapped, getting a bit annoyed. Even if a part of him was grateful for a distraction from the endless memory loop in his head. Or the veins of the Omnitrix pulsing in him.
Lizzie tapped her fingers to her lips, eyeing him considerably. "That is a very sad puppy." She conceded. "Maybe Gwen got mad at him?"
He winced before he could stop it. Not that more time would have helped. Love it or hate it, he was always an open book. Especially when it came to Gwen. Lizzie… didn't exactly brighten at being right, but she did nod to herself.
"I think we have a winner. What happened?" She asked, without hesitation. "Did you suck at kissing?" She patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Happens to the best. Just be happy that you're apparently passably cute-"
"I did not suck at kissing!" Ben yelled, loud enough to turn some heads across the yard. He flushed but stared back until they turned away.
Beside him, Lizzie snorted. "Prove it." She said, waggling her eyebrows. When Ben quirked his, she grinned. "With Gwen-" He slapped her shoulder while Anna reached over him to smack the back of her head.
"Pervert." They scolded in unison. Lizzie snickered uproariously and Ben felt some of the tension in him alleviate. If barely.
Anna lowered a hand to Ben's shoulder, eyes a little more serious. "What did happen, though? Are you two like… okay?" And was that ever a loaded question, Ben mused. There were so many things that could be not okay with them, so many little things that could trip them up. And he didn't want to talk about any of them, didn't want to linger on it, didn't want to think at all if he could help it.
But if he didn't give them an answer, they'd probably assume that it wasn't going well in the family- which was technically true because it concerned Gwen, but not in the way they thought. Really the thought of their family learning about them, being, well, them was the least of his worries for the last few days.
Mostly because he and Gwen hadn't seen or spoken to each other for that long. If the guilt wasn't gnawing a hole through him as it was, he'd probably be unbalanced just because it felt like he hadn't been this… alone, in what felt like forever. Even if he knew for a fact that until recently, that had been the norm. Sure, he and Gwen had been together on their summer trip but they hadn't really interacted nearly as much as after...
But even then, he hadn't been apart from her. And later, he never wanted to be, couldn't be apart from her.
Being apart from her now was unironically like having a hole in his chest, or missing a limb. Even if he normally wouldn't have spent this time at school with her anyway, knowing that she was one XLR8 minute away from him, that he could be with her, comfort her if she needed him…
It gave him purpose. It gave him comfort. Being beside her, having her in his orbit, for all that he had only allowed himself to like it for a few months now, he had grown to see it as a simple fact of life.
The sun rose in the east. The sky was blue. Gwen was never more than a breath away. He was never really alone anymore.
And then he was. That solitude, that aimlessness, it hurt him. More than the sleepless nights, though he could never be sure if they were because of his fear of Vilgax showing up at any time, or because his racing thoughts wouldn't leave him alone.
At least he wasn't panicking enough to claw his arm up anymore. Not that a low-key state of constant terror was doing him any better.
He gave the two girls a long look, feeling his energy for having this conversation rapidly dwindle. They were still waiting for an answer, though, and he had to give them something. Even if they didn't assume, they might go and bother Gwen with it.
And Gwen was… not up for that, he knew. And he refused to burden her further just because he was too much of a wimp to talk to his- their, friends.
In the end, he decided that the truth was as good as he was going to be able to give. "Gwen isn't doing well." He told them, swallowing the lump in his throat that the very thought formed. "She- we ran into some of our… problems. And I..." He hesitated. A part of him wanted to dump this on his own shoulders as much as on Vilgax's, but even he knew that wasn't fair to himself. And for that matter, it wasn't what bothered him, or what had bothered Gwen. "I didn't help her. Not like I was supposed to. She's mad about that." He sighed, shoulders sagging. "I don't really blame her." He whispered before looking up again. "Afterwards, she kinda asked me to leave her alone. We haven't spoken for a few days."
But it felt so much longer.
Anna and Lizzie exchanged a glance.
"So does that mean you're on the rocks?" Lizzie asked.
Ben stared blankly at her. "What do rocks have to do with anything?"
Anna snorted. "She means, 'does that mean your relationship is in trouble.'" The blonde shot the shorter brunette a flat look. "Because that is obviously what matters right now."
"Can't stop my romantic heart, babe." Lizzie waved her off.
Ben smiled despite himself at their antics, but he quickly sobered. "I didn't really think about that." He confessed. "I don't think so… but I don't really care about that." He decided. At their confused look, he elaborated. "I get that she's super pissed at me- I would be too- and I totally get it if she puts my in the doghouse forever-"
"Oh, so that expression he does know."
"Hush and listen to drama, blondie."
"-but I just want her to feel better." He finally stressed. "Like, she's doing really bad, and I can't help her like this. If her being mad or her ditching me would fix it-" he spread his hands with a helpless shrug. "-then… that'd suck. But at least she'd be doing better. That's more important, right?" He nodded to himself, biting his lip.
He was engulfed in warmth from two sides, startled and not entirely sure what was happening until Anna and Lizzie pulled back from their hug attack. Lizzie, ever emotional, wiped a stray tear. Anna was more level, but still clearly, shaken herself.
"You are too sweet sometimes." She deadpanned. "Not a lot, but when you are..."
Lizzie nodded enthusiastically. "I can totally see why Anna had a crush on you."
The blonde groaned. "Are you ever going to let that go?"
"Not on your life." Lizzie replied with a wink. Then she turned back to Ben, a mask of seriousness overtaking her features. "So, we getting any details on what exactly happened….?
Ben shook his head. That was a bridge too far. "And don't bother asking Gwen." He added pointedly, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate.
Going by the way the girls deflated, he wouldn't have to indeed.
"Fine. Secretive Tennysons..." Lizzie grumbled. Ben almost cracked up. If she thought he and Gwen were bad, she'd have a field day with trying to get a straight answer out of grandpa on anything.
"Maybe she already cooled down?" Anna suggested. "If it's been a few days, could be that she wants you to talk again, but is just waiting for you to come to her?" She jabbed a thumb and Lizzie. "This squirt always makes me do all the work after a fight. Even when she was the one at fault."
"This is true." Lizzie admitted, nodding sagely.
Ben bit his lip. "No." He decided. "Gwen really doesn't like it when we just… leave each other hanging." He elaborated, Gwen's voice ringing in his head from what seemed like ages ago. "We do this together, or not at all. She's not going to lock me out if she does want me there."
He liked to think so, at least. But they'd also agreed not to lock each other out at all, and going by the last few days, that promise wasn't doing too hot between them right now.
Lizzie shrugged, though her face was pensive. "Then I guess she just needs time, right?"
Ben hesitated again, before slumping against the wall and sliding down to the ground with a tired exhale. "I don't think it's helping her." He admitted, so softly that even he didn't hear it at first. "And she won't let me help her either, I just-" He sighed, sliding down the wall till he sat on the ground, feeling faint. "-I just feel so useless."
Was this how Gwen had felt every time he'd refused to burden her with his issues? This sidelined, this powerless?
Whenever they talked again, he owed her a big apology.
Another one. He was really pilling them up.
"Then you find some other way to help her!" Lizzie declared, far too cheerfully.
His head snapped up to give the girl a flabbergasted look, but she was completely undeterred. "That's what I do." She headbutted Anna's shoulder- Ben was reminded very much of a cat looking for pets. "Sometimes Anna's parents are a little extra..."
"Mean." Anna supplied, diplomatically, delicately petting Lizzie's head.
The brunette nodded. "Mean. And when they are, I'm not allowed to visit." She grinned. "So I find other ways to make sure tall blonde and handsome here gets cheered up." The girl reached up, peeling Anna's lip into a grin.
"You are a true comedian." Anna remarked, dry as a desert.
"See? It's already working!" She turned back to Ben, who had been watching the two with growing amusement- a welcome change to terror. "You just gotta find out what does work. There's gotta be something you can do for her!"
Ben hummed in thought. "Something I can do..."
"Yes!" Lizzie exclaimed, bending down to shake his shoulders. "No more moping, start being proactive!" The bell signaling the end of their break rang. Lizzie groaned, flopping dramatically into Anna's waiting, if begrudging, arms. "Ugh, I can't stand another hour of… what have we got?"
"Geography."
"No!" Lizzie cried dramatically to a stone-faced Anna.
Ben stood, following them inside, too deep in thought to pay much attention to the brunette's wailing.
Maybe Gwen wasn't ready to see him- to let him help like he had. But that didn't mean he couldn't do anything at all. There had to be something he could do to make her less scared, to keep her safe-
...keep her safe.
He slowly pulled his hand out of his pocket, the Omnitrix gleaming on his wrist. It flashed red in his mind's eye and he grasped at his shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his vest until the moment passed. When it did (it's green, I'm fine. I'm fine) he turned his focus inward, feeling the network that connected him to the device thrumming throughout his body, his shoulder pulsing lightly. He inhaled, feeling the ache move slightly, towards his chest.
He still despised the thing as much as he loved it.
He opened his eyes, feeling determination run through his veins, as well as power.
He was going to help keep Gwen safe. And he knew where to start.
Max opened up his Plumber rifle, the light from the campfire showing its inner workings. He was making sure that the battery for the electric rounds was full- and that all the bullets for the weapon's more lethal settings were accounted for.
Capture was the go-to for dealing with hostility as a Plumber, but sometimes the application of lethal force was unavoidable. When such cases were needed, Max preferred that lethal force to be overwhelming.
Not that even that was always enough. He'd literally bombed Vilgax and Ben had dumped his ship on him. The squid was tough.
But these rounds were potent enough that they'd at least give the tenacious bastard pause. And he had the shocker rounds for his coerced lackeys. Max sighed, his breath coming out as fog in the night's chill.
He silently hoped that whatever the squid sent next would be more akin to the Pyronite or Florauna than the Vulpimancer. Sure, they had been far more dangerous in their cunning cruelty, but that same cunning cruelty made it easier for Max to turn off whatever sympathy he might have felt for them and their plight.
That could not be said for the Vulpimancer, who was currently holed up in Tetrax's ship somewhere in orbit, being nurtured and kept company by Gluto. He was glad they had no reason to slay the poor creature, but it still weighed on his heart.
Though it felt light compared to the combined weight of his grandchildren's suffering.
"You seem distressed."
Tetrax's voice caused Max to look up. The stoic Petrosapien across from him was unreadable as ever, though if Max had to make a guess based on his lifelong experience of dealing with various non-expressive aliens, he'd guess there was some sympathy in his companion's demeanor.
Max chuckled without humor. "I am." He admitted, lightly, giving his ally a smile. "But with you here, much less so. Thanks again for responding to my distress call."
Tetrax nodded. "We had been tracking Vilgax's movements at a distance for a time." He said. "When you called, we were already close." He glanced at his wrist, where a small monitor beeped. He hummed. "Gluto tells me he's not feeling confident for another successful hit and run tonight. He does not want to get too predictable."
Max nodded in understanding. While Tetrax had remained on Earth to assist Max, Gluto had gone into orbit and used the Resolute to preform hit and run operations on Vilgax's slower, bulkier ship. The Resolute, after all, was designed for speed, for pursuit and evasion, whereas Vilgax's ostentatious monstrosity was designed to move as much heavy bots and other troops around as it could.
But if Gluto kept striking too frequently, Vilgax would anticipate him accordingly- and the Resolute had no chance against that sort of firepower.
Still, it helped to have an eye in the sky. Especially when Vilgax sent down another crony to Bellwood to hunt his family down. Knowing in advance when they were coming and what they were dealing with had been key to stopping them before they even got close to the other Tennysons the past few days.
Even if Max's shoulder was still sore from fighting a Tetramand yesterday.
"I understand." Max informed Tetrax. "Send him my thanks."
Tetrax nodded again, typing. A comfortable silence settled over them, before it was broken by the Petrosapien.
"Your grandchildren are a mess." He remarked, bluntly.
Max sent him a flat glare. He knew this conversation had been overdue, but he still wasn't looking forward to it. "They're children-"
"Who, when I last met them, were taking down a legion of drones with Vilgax himself on top of it. I expected the same sort of opposition when you hailed me a few days ago, but instead I find them getting defeated by two barely functioning foes." Tetrax continued, voice clear but not malicious, asserting but not condemning. "What happened there?"
Max averted his gaze to the fire. "It's not my story to tell."
Tetrax hummed, looking up at the sky. "But it is a story we," Tetrax started, not unkindly, "deserve to know. Gluto and me are in on this fight too, and if we're going to be, we need to know why two of our most powerful combat assets are dead weight." His crystalline expression softened, if it could be called such a thing. "And Gluto wants to know why his favorite humans are this… fragile."
Max's hard look faltered and then dissolved. He sighed. The Petrosapien wasn't wrong. Personal vendetta against Vilgax aside, Tetrax and Gluto were their allies in this, and their friends. They were putting their neck on the line, and had saved his grandchildren's neck, and continued to safeguard all their necks for several days with no questions asked.
Until now. Max was hard pressed to argue that Tetrax didn't deserve the truth- none of his reservations regarding the truth really mattered here, either. Alien reveal? He was one. Ben and Gwen being together? Tetrax wouldn't care. Neither would Ben and Gwen. He nodded to himself, resolved.
"You were there, when Gwen was dragged under by the Florauna, right?"
Tetrax nodded. "Gluto assisted in her rescue, though he told me that her magical prowess were instrumental there, too."
Max smiled crookedly, watching the flickering fire. "I'm sure." He slumped, ever so slightly. He felt so tired. "A prodigious talent at anything she puts her mind to, including magic, it seems. A dangerous force to be reckoned with, one of our 'most powerful combat assets.'" Tetrax flinched at that. Good. Max might understand where the Petrosapien was coming from, but that did not mean he approved of Ben and Gwen being dehumanized. He looked his comrade in the eye. "She's a ten year old girl, Tetrax. A child. That got dragged down by a plant monster thinking she was going to die."
Tetrax shifted, clearly uncomfortable, considering. "The same species of creature she faced when you called us..." His large fists clenched. "I'm sorry, Max. I should have known."
Max did not correct him. Though he did offer comfort. "We are old hands at this. It's hard to even imagine a near death experience rattling me anymore." He confessed with a rueful chuckle. "But Gwen… she took it hard. Like any sane person should, really. She's been… fearful ever since. Especially when Ben is not with her."
Tetrax remained silent for a moment, before asking "And Ben?"
Max rolled his shoulder, his old bones giving a sour pop. He nearly winced. He really was getting too old for this. "Ben blames himself for not keeping her safe, as far as I can tell. He takes her feeling unsafe… personally." He met Tetrax's gaze again. "He told me that the Pyronite taunted him during their fight, telling him what was attacking Gwen. Unbalancing him. It's why it got as far as it did."
The Petrosapien mulled this over. "On Xenon," he started, "Ben was reckless and impulsive where Gwen was concerned, using the Omnitrix with disregard for it potentially blowing up. She seems to be something of a vulnerability."
Max shook his head. "Only as much as they get caught. Working together… well. You've seen what they can do together. But if either one of them goes down, the other… struggles. Now perhaps more than ever."
Tetrax gave him a curious look at that. Max felt heat rise to his cheeks. Well, if he was ranting anyway… "They've gotten together." He said, simply. Tetrax looked taken aback.
"Aren't they a little young for that?"
Max couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to a Petrosapien to think nothing of the familial connection. Their family units were of a very different sort, after all. "It wouldn't be the first time that one of the Tennyson brood fell in love young." He mused, thinking of Frank at only thirteen, so scared that he was ruining young Natalie's life just by being in it, and he hadn't known what to do.
Fortunately, his wife had, telling the young man the same things Max had passed on to Gwen just a few days ago. He hoped it would work as well for his grandchildren as it did for Frank and Natalie.
"Love..." Tetrax mused as he shifted a little. Max could have sworn he looked like he wanted a drink, if his species did that. "Gluto's species splits and mine buds. I never understood how you carbon based life forms have been so successful considering how messy you are. But... but I know its good to have someone you trust at your back. I'd be lost without Gluto." He sighed. "Even if it does make for an enormous crack in their shell."
Max inhaled a deep breath of the night air, nodding. "It makes them more vulnerable, yes. But I think that without that bond, they would not have made it here at all."
Tetrax hummed in agreement, letting the quiet wash over them. After a minute, the alien spoke again.
"I'm sorry I couldn't keep them safe, Max."
Max exhaled another breath, old body sagging with it. "You did." He told his friend. "I wasn't even there-"
Tetrax's wristband flashed to life and he quickly glanced down. "A message from Gluto. Two pods were shot down- by his readings, one with a Petrosapien and another with a Pyronite. He knocked the Petrosapien off course, but the Pyronite will still land close too Bellwood in about fiteen minutes." He looked up at Max. "Do we split up…?" He held up the maps of the probable landing sites for Max to see.
The old man considered it, then shook his head. "No. We take the Pyronite first, together, as quickly as we can, then double back for the Petrosapien." He stood, giving Tetrax a wry grin. "Your species isn't fast at travel, while the Pyronite is. No offense."
"None taken." The alien rose too. "Let's go."
The Pyronite had proven to be a lot more trouble than anticipated, Max mused as he'd limped through the trees, a large cut on his thigh slowing him.
Its landing site had been, as he feared, close to a local gas station. This had spurred them to touch the Rustbucket down quickly and prevent the flaming alien from getting anywhere near the volatile fuel held there, but it was then that they'd found that Vilgax had pulled a clever move on them.
Fighting Pyronites was typically a matter of avoiding it. Get too close, and one touch of its body would leave debilitating burns, and it could pepper you with fire from afar.
But that fire did get weaker the further its projectiles had to travel.
Something his rifle suffered less from. And Tetrax's hide might contract and crack in painful ways under the heat, but his suit guarded him from most of it.
With Tetrax getting up close and personal while Max covered from a distance, it should have been easy- or at the very least simple- fight.
But they had not accounted for the possibility of the Pyronite being diseased.
Rather than projectiles of fire to stay out of range of, Max had to contend with shards of ice that flew much faster and further. Rather then being resistant to their enemy's melee, Tetrax had to deal with his crystalline hide and bones freezing to the point of brittleness.
It was a small miracle they had been able to take the delirious creature down and get it into the Null Void in one piece- as well as with them in one piece. Mostly.
Tetrax moved faster than Max, but his stride was burdened too, obvious in discomfort about his left arm, which he cluchted to his chest in an effort to warm it.
Max swore under his breath. It had taken far longer than anticipated, and taken a heavier toll, but their only stroke of luck seemed that the Petrosapien, according to Gluto's readings, had barely made it out of its crash site in the forests around Bellwood before it had halted.
Max was far too cynical to assume that was a good thing, though. Knowing his luck, it just meant that the alien had somehow found its intended target there.
As they broke into a moonlit clearing, it turned out that Max had been right about that. In a way.
The Petrosapien was there, for sure- a female, by the looks of it, slender and sleeker than Tetrax. Sharper, too. Dangerous, for sure.
But also clearly in bad shape, cracked in more places than Max could count- and they all looked fresh. The alien groaned, glaring venomously at the red creature facing her down.
Max could recognize Fourarms anywhere these days, but if the appearance of a Tetramand on their side wasn't indication enough, the faint glowing green eyes were a dead giveaway.
"Ben?" He called out, startled. Last he'd seen of Ben, the boy had been either barely staving off a panic attack, or comforting Gwen. This was not where he had expected to find his grandson.
The red alien did not respond to his call. Ben merely braced himself as his crystal foe came charging. Ben caught her with his lower arms, halting her in her tracks and then brought his larger upper arms down on the Petrosapien's back, smashing it to the ground so hard that the earth shook and cracked- much like the alien's hide.
Beside him, Tetrax winced in sympathy.
Max could only gape, dumbfounded, as Ben rolled the alien over. It whimpered, weakly. Ben cocked back two of his fists for a punch, and it was in this moment that Max realized that Ben was in no shape to be fighting for a wholly different reason than he had fought.
"Ben!" He called out, quickly. "That's enough! She's beaten!"
Ben halted, teeth grit, fist still cocked. "She's is like the other one." He ground out. "She enjoys this-"
"And she's still beaten. Let her go."
The boy hesitated, four eyes glaring foully at the groaning crystalline alien. Max felt a twinge of anxiety rise in his chest. He channeled it into anger. "Let her go, Ben!"
With a snarl, Ben released his hold, shifting into Upgrade with a flash of green and promptly merging with the collar the other alien wore. She cried out, but quickly slowed and then fell unconscious. Ben emerged a second later. "There. Knocked her out." Spoke the mechanical voice. "And I got some info from it. Gotta mull it over as Grey Matter first, but I'll get it back to you soon."
He shifted again, and Max had expected to see his grandson this time. What he got was XLR8, turning to leave.
"Ben!" He called out. The smaller alien froze, not quite turning back, but not leaving either. Waiting. Max hesitated, looking at his grandson's tense shoulders, his slightly shaking claws. And then at the battered mess of alien laying at his feet. Finally, he spoke again, softly. "What are you doing, son?"
Ben flinched, curling in on himself in a shivering hunch, looking for just a second so vulnerable and small and alone that Max wanted to run up and scoop him up immediately- but the blue alien straightened a moment later, the hard flinch evaporating before Max's eyes, replaced by a cold, dispassionate look.
"Being proactive." Ben rasped, and then he was gone
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone