Blackbird

(Author’s Note: I’ve been toying with this idea for awhile. I know Kevin’s past has been touched on a tad, but not much, and I’d like to see if I can put a spin on it.)

(Summary: Alien Force. Kevin’s tried to push his past away from him, but in just one moment it’s coming at him with a vengeance, and he may not be able to escape it with his life. Gwevin.)

Chapter One

--

…Blackbird singing in the dead of night

Take these broken wings and learn to fly.

All your life,

You were only waiting for this moment to arrive…

--

“Hey Mom,” a soft whisper carried across the night, blending with the soft roar of rain upon the lush ground under his boots. “I… I became a Plumber today.”

He squeezed the neon green and black badge in his pale, calloused hand. “I… hope you’re proud, Mom. I… always wanted to make you proud.”

The rain nearly froze against his skin, his t-shirt and jeans tight against his form and heavy with the downpour. His hair hung lifelessly in his eyes as he gazed at the ground in front of him. At his feet lay a simple stone, with a worn-away engraving: Ellen “Elle” Levin, a loving mother and wife. Underneath was her birth year and year of death. He sighed softly. It’d been a good six years or so since her death. His stepdad had paid for her funeral services, of course, but the devastating blow of her passing effected Kevin Levin. He could remember slamming his hands against the television set and ripping the electricity from its seams. His stepfather had gazed at him, glowered at him, screamed at him. He had called him… a freak. And one morning, he woke up alone, and he never saw the man again.

“You couldn’t have known what was going to happen. He… he wasn’t like Dad, you said, but… but Dad abandoned us too.” He shook his head, his eyes burning. “No… no. That wasn’t your fault either.”

There was a pause as a chilling wind blew through him and he shuddered. “I… made friends. They’re good to me, Ma. They… believe in me. I don’t feel so alone anymore.”

He shoved the badge in his pocket and crossed his arms. “I just… wanted to say… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a bad kid, mom. I really messed things up for you. If I had tried a little harder…” his voice caught in his throat, and he swallowed, deciding not to finish the thought. “I… I’m gonna make things right, Mom. I promise.”

There was a single rose placed upon Elle Levin’s grave.

--

“Did he look… sad to you?”

The question was a break to the silence as Gwen ran her fingers through her auburn locks. Ben was curled up on her couch, planning to crash there for the night. He was wearing an old shirt and some pajama pants that actually belonged to her father. Ben’s slender form was crammed into the old shirt, only to have the pants sag at his hips and bunch at his feet. He looked rather ridiculous, but he swore that he was comfortable.

“What was that?” Ben asked.

“Kevin. Earlier today. Did he look sad to you?

Ben raised an eyebrow, running a hand across his messy hair, attempting to smooth it down and failing. “Sad? No. Not really. I mean, I guess not. Why?”

“I don’t know. When he was talking about his mom… he just looked sad is all.”

“Well, God, Gwen, he was abandoned by his family when he was eleven years old.”

She gave Ben a look. “I know that, Ben. But if that’s true, why would he even want to talk to her?”

“Maybe they reconciled. Still, I can’t imagine it’s easy to forget.” He sucked carefully and tentatively on the straw in his Styrofoam cup.

Gwen eyed him. “Is that… a smoothie?”

Ben smiled sheepishly. “Yeah. Chocolate and orange.”

“You’re going to turn into a smoothie. You know that?”

“Hey, I was bored when you were in the shower, so I walked to Mr. Smoothie and got one!”

She rolled her eyes then attempted to get back on topic. “So you really think he and his mom reconciled? Or maybe they’re trying to.”

“I don’t know. Why are you asking me? Why don’t you ask him?”

“I don’t think he’ll tell me.”

Ben chuckled. “Gwen, he’ll tell you anything with the right kind of persuasion.”

She glared at him once more, feeling like they had reverted back to their childhood years. Ben toyed with the Omnitrix, turning the dial slowly and never letting it really land on any certain alien. Gwen gazed at the fire crackling in the fireplace, imagining the facial expression from earlier that evening.

“I gotta go tell my mom.”

“He looked sad to me. He was smiling, but his eyes were almost heartbroken.”

“You could just be looking too far into it,” Ben suggested, raising his eyebrows.

“I wonder what happened to his dad. Maybe Grandpa Max knew him. He was a Plumber after all.”

Ben began to suck down his smoothie at a faster rate, clearly uncomfortable. Of course, the speed increase had him clutching his skull in a brain-freeze just moments after.

“I think Grandpa Max would’ve remembered something like that. It’s not like Kevin’s been a total stranger for the past six years.”

Gwen sighed. “Yeah… I know.”

Ben offered her a comforting smile. “He’s no bad guy now, though, Gwen. He’s been making leaps and bounds. Though he’s still pretty much a jerk.”

That was true. Kevin was a jerk most of the time. Still, earlier that evening, he’d shown a sort of vulnerability to her – no matter how unwilling he was to talk about his past. She was worried about it actually. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach over the entire situation. He wasn’t telling them something.

“Did something finally happen between you two or what? You’re awfully quiet. That’s not like you at all.”

Gwen wasn’t sure if she flushed from embarrassment or fury as she chucked a pillow in Ben’s direction. He dodged it with an unknown grace, laughing.

“No. Nothing happened,” she muttered. “I’m going to bed. It’s after midnight. Are you staying for breakfast in the morning?”

“Of course!” Ben exclaimed. “Your parents actually make breakfast. They don’t serve like… wheat grass juice or anything. Though wheat grass is actually pretty good in a smoothie.” He took a final swig off of his own smoothie and tossed it across the room, into the kitchen’s wastebasket.

Ben totally had a future career in sports, if not crime fighting of course.

“I have a bad feeling about this whole thing, Ben. I’m just saying.”

Her cousin glanced at her as he lay back against the couch cushions, frowning.

She knew that he knew that her premonitions were almost always correct.