Change

Ben bit down on the back of his hand to keep himself from crying out. Not nearly hard enough to draw blood, but still tears prickled his eyes as he fought for breath and convulsed, his other arm waving about uselessly.

"No-!" He gasped, scrunching his eyes shut. He had to get control back, he couldn't give in like this. He had to- he couldn't- with one shuddering gasp, he finally cried out.

"Stop tickling, dweeb!" He giggled, trying in vain to stifle the sounds. Bathed in the morning sunlight coming in through the curtains of the Rustbucket's backroom and sitting astride his legs and waist, Gwen smirked cheekily, her fingers dancing across his sides under his tank top.

"You know the magic word." She sang.

"Never!"

"Wrong word!"

"No- stop- oh for- please!"

"Ha!" Gwen cheered triumphantly. "I knew I could make you beg." She halted her ministrations on his sides and breathed a sigh of relief. Instead of withdrawing her hands, she rested kept them where they'd been tickling, lazily trailing her fingers across his skin. He swallowed. This wasn't new. They'd touched like that plenty of times, usually when one of them was too lazy to properly move away. It sure felt new though.

Gwen leaned down to grin in his face, mischief dancing in her eyes. It became easier, every time he saw it, to call that look 'beautiful'.

"You," he panted, reaching up to give her hair a playful tug, "are evil. Pure evil." Gwen snickered, even as worry crept into her eyes.

"You looked like you could use a distraction." She murmured and his smile faltered a little. That much was true. He'd woken up… teetering on the edge again. The sort of edge that, when he fell off it, he'd start looking for a rock. He didn't though, because the reason he had woken in the first place was because Gwen had been awake too, unable to breathe. It had taken them the better part of an hour to get her to normal; he'd been desperate enough on several occasions to go and kick grandpa awake. She'd responded to that desperation by clinging to him, silently asking him not to go.

It had given him the strength he needed to shove his own panic to the back of his head. In the end, it had taken a lot of reassurance and affection to calm her down, but they managed, and when she'd recovered she'd helped him deal with his issues, even if his heart rate still felt too high. He was torn from his musings by Gwen's right hand sliding up from his side to rest over his heart.

A moment of silence passed between them, before she broke it with a soft observation. "Something's up."

He gave her his best grin. It felt painfully fake, even to him. "The roof?" Ah, Gwen's flat stare. He hadn't see it in a day or so, he'd almost started missing it. His grin faltered. He honestly didn't want to talk about feelings and stuff again. Gwen would never let anything be that easy though.

"Together..." She started, pointedly.

"Or not at all. I hear ya, I hear ya." At her penetrating stare, he gave her a sullen glare. "What, now? I just woke up, haven't even eaten breakfast yet! You can't expect me to think!"

Gwen's stare was unyielding, conveying that yes, she absolutely did. He grit his teeth. "Slave driver." He muttered, before sighing and averting his eyes. "Fine, fine. I'm just… still trying to figure it all out." He didn't need to elaborate, he knew.

Gwen quirked an eyebrow. "That's what got you upset? You seemed pretty sure of yourself yesterday. And eager to demonstrate it." He felt his face heat. It was still kind of surreal, the kissing bit. Part of him was still wondering what the hell he was doing, kissing the dweeb.

Another part was wondering why he hadn't done it much sooner. But that very contradiction was what he was trying to untangle; failing so far.

"Yesterday I kept busy helping you. Now, I don't have that luxury." He muttered.

Gwen snorted. "So glad to know that I my stress can be useful." There was no heat to her words, so he didn't feel attacked. Instead, he averted his gaze, looking at the base of the beds on the side of the room.

"Beats having to deal with my own." He grumbled. Like she made him do now. Darn dweeb.

She hummed in response, leaning back on her haunches and smiling ruefully. Her hand never strayed from his heart though, and the rate of it had calmed down enough for him to truly appreciate the feeling of her palm against his chest. He imagined he could feel her own heart, beating in time with his. He was pretty sure it was just his imagination, but it was a rhythm he could cling to regardless.

"You and your hero complex." Gwen said, a fond shake of her head punctuating the statement. Her bed hair made the gesture even softer than it usually was, all of her hard edges gone in the morning light. "Didn't I tell you you had to sit on that and think about yourself more often?"

He smirked, waggling his eyebrows. It felt shaky, but he thought he could sell it. "Guess I just got you on the brain too much." Aaand yup. That was a blush. Nailed it. She flicked his forehead before sighing, letting the silence stretch, a hesitant expression overtaking her features.

"If it upsets you, we can just pretend it never happened, like you suggested. Or put it off until we have figured it out…" She trailed off, obviously not liking the ideas anymore than he did. And he doubted it would work anyway. The genie was out of the bottle, as grandpa would say.

He sat up, pulling a surprised Gwen into his lap, before he leaned in and rested his head in the crook of her neck, lazily draping his arms around her waist. He'd fallen asleep on this very spot so often, he had to resist the urge to close his eyes and just drift off. She'd nuzzled into his neck often enough as well, and this time was no exception. They did it for comfort. For affection. Because they felt like it.

All of those reasons were still there, but there was also… something else. Something that, he was sure, had been there before, but hadn't snapped into focus until- until now. All of those reasons were hopelessly intertwined, and that was the problem.

He exhaled, sagging a bit, and she shuddered slightly, every twitch and every shaky breath sending tingles up his spine. He was pretty sure she was as hyper aware of him as he was of her. She'd noticed the differences too. The motions were all still the same, from the banter to the touches, as were the reasons. Nothing had changed.

Everything had changed.

"If we want to stop this," he knew, "we'd have to stop all of it." And he didn't think they could, no more than Gwen could stop herself form unconsciously reaching for his hand or how he couldn't stop himself from leaning on her. He wondered if she'd even noticed that the hand that was not on his chest had reached up to tangle in his hair. They needed that contact, still. He, for one, craved it. He was pretty sure that even one day, without the knowledge that Gwen was there for him… he wouldn't cope. Having to deal with her not being there for most of the past weeks had already been a nightmare. The idea of it never happening like this again?

Just turn on the timer on the Omnitrix and let it blow this time. It'd be kinder to him.

Gwen's hands on him tensed, as did the back beneath his. "So you want to continue this because we need it. Because we can't stop it." She concluded. Part of him was happy that she'd immediately caught the unsaid again, but something about the way she said it sounded wrong-

His head snapped up, as did his hands to grab hold of her shoulders. Her expression shifted into shock, guarded shock, as he shook her once. "No!" He said, the soft word feeling like a shout in the quiet room. "No." He repeated, brain working overtime to find the words to make her understand. "I'm not just doing this because I think we have no other choice. This is the best choice."

Gwen was silent for a moment, her guarded expression faltering, but not disappearing. Not yet. "But is it the choice that you, that we, want, or just the only choice we have?" She asked, and he knew enough about Gwen to know that she was 'playing the adult'. She was having this conversation because she thought they should. She'd be reasonable. She'd be calm. She'd be crying later because, he knew, she was tearing herself up over this very subject too and that was not happening on his watch.

His first instinct was to shout 'of course I want this! Did you miss the kissing bit?!' but he wrestled the impulse down. That had been his gut response yesterday, and he'd already revealed that that had been, in part, bravado for her sake. He needed to do better if he was going to show her that the largest part really was on board with this- ah, so that's why Gwen liked using her brain. It did feel kinda nice when something just clicked.

"It's the other way around." He said, and her expression morphed into slight wonder for a second. That was a good sign, he thought. "It's the only choice because I want this. It feels right."

Because everything had changed. Because nothing had changed.

Gwen cocked her head, gaze intent. He could see the gears turning in her head, faster than he could blink. There was a small smile tugging at her lips though. "You think our… love" He felt his heart do a jump at the word, even if she still spoke it like it was some foreign word that she only half understood the meaning off. He could relate to that. "caused us to be affectionate the way we are, instead of it popping up because of the affection, and we just didn't realize it?" She snickered. "That's almost romantic, Ben."

He grinned at her, relieved that she understood. "Thought the moonlight waltz would've tipped you off that I'm a regular Romeo."

She hummed in agreement, still wearing that small smile, but she did eye him critically again. "Not sure if I'm convinced. Its just as likely that we started with the comfort, blundered into this, and only just now noticed. How do we know which came first?"

Ben shrugged. "Chicken and egg story, nerd. We'll never know the answer, and it doesn't really matter for the outcome, right?"

"Actually, considering how evolution works, we do know which one came first-"

He held up a finger in warning, glaring daggers. "No lectures before breakfast. You already got me thinking and being sappy. I'm drawing a line."

Gwen's answering grin was sheepish, but that meant she was feeling better. Silence descended on them for a second before she eyed him suspiciously. "You are not just saying this to put me at ease, right?" She asked, to which he could only shake his head.

"No, I mean it. There, I did the brain thing." He said, changing the subject. He was pretty sure he had already fried all of his active brain cells with this conversation alone. "Satisfied, cootie queen?"

She wasn't, not quite. He could tell she had a million questions, most of which he'd never even thought of asking, but her expression melted into a warm smile anyway. Reaching out, she ruffled his hair.

"For now. Who's a good boy, using his brain?" She coed, messing up his hair. He groaned.

"What is it with you girls treating me like a dog? First Kai, now you." It wasn't nearly as bad coming from Gwen though. He treated her like a cat half the time anyway, so it was fair. The redhead snickered.

"You'd look cute on a leash though. Maybe she wasn't all that crazy after all." Gwen asserted, striking a thinking pose. His heart straight up stopped and Ben felt heat rush to his ears. He opened his mouth to argue, to shoot her down, but no sound came out. Gwen smirked like a shark, eyes alight with merriment. "I'm not hearing an objection." She sang and he glared.

Right, putting an end to this right now, before she gets any ideas.

Flipping them over, he pinned Gwen's arms beside her head, hands on her wrists and loomed over her, smirking, effectively reversing their positions from earlier. He had to give her credit, she smirked right back, looking completely unbothered and relaxed at being captured. We'll see about that. He wet his lips and let his gaze drift to hers meaningfully. "You know, good boys get treats."

"Is that so?" Gwen wondered back at him, expression still coy, but he could see the redness creep up her neck.

"Yeah," he said, leaning in to hover right over her face. Her breathe tickled his face, and her pupils were so wide that they nearly drowned out the green of her eyes, the only indication that he was getting to her. Then again, going by the heat he felt creeping up his neck, she got to him just as much. "so where's mine? I did what you asked."

Gwen hummed. "I suppose you did do a passable job of thinking, for a change." She tested his restraining hands, though with very little vigor. "Can't do much like this though, so you're gonna have to come and get your treat."

Ben grinned, leaning down and he tilted her head, eyes drifting shut.

He opened his mouth and licked her face like a good boy.

Max looked up from where he was scrambling eggs at the sound of Gwen's loud squeal. The only reasons he didn't drop what he was doing was because it was overlaid with Ben's laughter. He smiled to himself, rolling his eyes fondly. Guess we're back to normal. Just as well; the kids had been awkward for most of yesterday before becoming ridiculously touchy in the evening. At this point, bickering was the easiest for Max to keep up with.

He saw Gwen dash into the bathroom from the corner of his eye and heard the faucet turning on. Ben followed at a more sedate pace, clutching his stomach as he laughed. Wiping a tear from his eye, he waved at Max.

"Morning grandpa. What's for breakfast?"

Max smiled back. "Morning, troublemaker. Breakfast is scrambled eggs and locusts. Hope you're hungry!" He gave his grandson a sidelong glance. "What did you do to her?"

Ben shuddered. "Please tell me the locusts are dead at least..." Then the boy grinned, innocently. "And I didn't do anything."

Gwen walked out of the bathroom behind Ben, looking like she'd thoroughly washed her face, a finger in her mouth, sucking on it and glaring daggers at the smaller child. Ben didn't notice her, so she snuck up on him, pulled her wet finger out of her mouth and stuck it in his ear with a devilish grin.

Next time Tetrax came to Earth, Max needed to have a stern talk with the Petrosapien for teaching his grandson those swear words, because he was pretty sure the boy hadn't picked gems like 'lazurite speckled onyx humper' up from anyone else.

"Alright alright," he interrupted Ben's swearing (and Gwen's vengeful cackles) with a laugh. "Settle down and sit down, both of you." He placed several plates of food on the table and the kids obediently took a seat next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, even as Ben still grumbled. Max wanted to roll his eyes, wondering if they even noticed that they were way up in each other's personal space again.

Breakfast went about as well as expected (meaning he only had to break up one food fight when Gwen decided to do a 'tactical F-locust strike' on Ben's head), and before long the kids were done and made to get up. Now or never…

Max held up his hand to forestall them, and they exchanged a worried glance as they sat back down. He'd rather have led into this naturally, but with the way the kids had been acting up all weekend and the way Gwen had gotten sick, he'd never found a good moment. But today was the last day- they'd start the two hour long drive back to Bellwood in the evening.

And he had made Sandra a promise. He meant to keep it. At their questioning gazes, he opened his mouth, hoping beyond hope that he was gauging them right.

"I know this is… not an easy thing to ask of you, and I'm sorry that I have to." he started, seeing guarded weariness ghost over both their faces. They knew where this was going. Taking a deep breath, he finished. "Will you tell me about what happened when you went with Tetrax?" He paused, before adding the word he knew would push them to actually do it, but hating himself for it anyway. "Please."

Silence met his request and the children paled slightly. He coul understand their apprehension; they'd ignored the elephant in the room for this long precisely because he didn't know if they even could talk about it. It was just one more thing their little group of three did not speak of.

But leaving it unspoken had gotten them nowhere. Gwen was only sporadically improving; the shakiness in every other move and the haunted look she'd tried to hide over breakfast told him all he needed to know about the sort of night she'd had.

And Ben… he didn't even have the words to start explaining how bad they'd messed up with Ben. How bad he had messed up with Ben.

Gwen was the first to recover, seemingly galvanized by the way Ben seemed to want to huddle in on himself. Max didn't need to look beneath the table to know that they were clutching each other's hands tightly.

"Why do you want to know now?" Her voice was weary, but the question was open. Not a denial, either of the fact that there was something amiss or of his request. It gave Max some hope to cling to. They weren't shutting him out... yet.

The old man sighed. "Because we're running out of time. You need to progress in your healing, get out of this limbo."

Gwen's brows furrowed in confusion before her face cleared in understanding. "Our parents put you up to this."

Max almost smiled. Clever girl. "Ben's mother, to be exact, though your parents endorse it." He confessed, before giving her a stern look. "But I don't disagree with them on this one."

Okay, that got him a look of betrayal he didn't think he deserved.

"We're are healing!" Gwen stressed. "We've been getting better, we can do this on our own-"

"I believe you." Max interrupted her. Both children looked at him like he'd grown a second head. It almost made him want to grin. It was good to know that he could still surprise them. "Given time, I think you could get through this. But-" He hardened his gaze, "-there's only so many times a parent can watch their child shoot back and forth between being normal and fearing for her life-" he said, eyeing Gwen before shifting his gaze to Ben. "-or watch their child try to claw their own hand apart, before a limit is reached. We've reached it."

He waited for them to take in the words. This time, Ben was quickest on the uptake, looking at his grandpa sadly. "If you don't make us talk, they'll try to, won't they?"

Max sighed deeply, but couldn't deny it. "Yes. I've convinced them to give you space as long as I could, but after your relapse, Ben, your parents aren't having it anymore. I can't blame them for that, either." He pinched the bridge of his nose. He hated this. He'd wanted to wait till the kids came to them for help, but they were out of time. "They want you both to seek help, specifically Natalie's."

At Ben's surprised look, Gwen rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the ribs. "She's a psychologist, freakazoid. You knew that." She admonished, though there was no bite to her bark.

Ben grinned at her sheepishly before turning back to Max with a raised brow. "You want us to see a shrink? I thought that was for crazy people."

"Sounds like it'd be perfect for you." Gwen teased, to Ben's groan.

"Come on Gwen!" The boy complained, echoing Max's thoughts. Now was not the time to goof around, even if it was only a transparant way for them to buy time to collect themselves- "That one was obvious, you can do better than that!" The old man face-palmed.

"No," Max started, drawing their attention back to him. "therapy is not just for crazy people. It's for people that are hurt." He eyed them pointedly again, and they had the decency to not deny it.

A moment of silence later, Ben spoke up again. "If they are going to make us talk anyway, why do you want to know? What difference does it make?"

Million dollar question, that. "I doubt they can make you talk. You're good at keeping secrets overall, even if you've gotten sloppy lately." He paused, expecting an outburst, and wasn't disappointed when twin shouts of denial burst forth. He held up a hand to silence their protests, quirking a sardonic brow at them.

"Fine, fine, in that case, I must've imagined Carl wondering how Ben could go to school with a heavily damaged, bandaged hand and then return that same evening with a completely healed one."

Dead silence followed his statement, before both kids dropped their heads in their hands and groaned. He wanted to snicker. With that level of synchronization, maybe they really were spending too much time together. If they started finishing each other's sentences, he might have to plan another intervention.

"Just some feedback." He added, dryly, before getting back on topic. They must've sensed his changing demeanor, because both children looked up to indicate that he had their attention. "The second reason, and the more important one, is because I want to help you."

He unclasped his hands and sat back, sighing wearily. "At this point, either you guys slip up one too many times, take too long to recover in your parents' eyes, or outright don't recover at all." They flinched at that, and he hated even having to consider the possibility, but it was one they needed to acknowledge. "All that leads to is your story, our story," he stressed, both to remind them that they weren't the only ones with a stake in their secret being revealed, and to remind them that they weren't alone in this, even if they surely felt like it was them against the world. "getting out in a way that you can't choose. Or you remain quiet, and don't get help, but I doubt that's going to make your life easier with everyone pressuring you to seek it." He continued, before tapping the table between them with a finger.

"Right now, you can still control how the story gets told, at what pace, whether you drop it in one go or ease them into it, what parts you ommit or whether you even tell it at all. I want to help you tell that story." He swallowed. "And I want you two to be whole again. I can only do that if you can trust me, like you used to."

He'd expected downcast eyes, perhaps contemplative silence. Protests, maybe, or more wheedling. Instead, both of them dove across the table to hug him tightly, an action he only fully appreciated when he noticed the wetness on his own cheeks.

Darn, he was supposed to be the grown-up here. However, as the kids pulled back, seating themselves on the table directly in front of him, he was strangely relieved to see his eyes weren't the only ones shedding tears. He knew it meant that he'd gotten through to them; finally.

They weren't looking at him anymore though, but at each other. Gwen absently reached for Ben's hand again, and he in turn leaned in to bump foreheads with her. They closed their eyes and inhaled a deep breath, and a shudder ran through them both, before they slowly broke apart.

It was quite obvious to Max that if he hadn't been there, they could've stayed like that for hours. Ben broke the silence that had settled over the three of them.

"Alright," Ben started, hesitantly, before Gwen bumped shoulders with him, smiling encouragingly, and he found the courage to continue with a teasing grin her way. "So, Tetrax and me had just left Earth when the ship's dweeb alarm went off, and guess who we found aboard? You guessed it- No-! Gwen! Stop it! No more tickling-! Gwen!"