Warning: This is Bwen (BenxGwen)

Chapter 1: Just When He Thought It Was Over

"Homework...on the first day of school!" Ben shouted, throwing his army-green backpack onto his bed. He jumped across the room and landed in the same place.

"I become a super-hero, but still get treated like some dorky kid." He held his left arm up and toyed with the Omnitrix, which he had gained and learned its uses in a few months.

It was easy to forget how young Ben Tennyson was. At ten years of age, he had taken upon a large responsibility. Albeit, he had misused his new found abilities often, but with the help of his grandfather and his cousin he managed.

Over the course of the summer, he had come in contact with many dangerous criminals and situations, but had always come on top. However, now it was time for him to lay low and blend back in with the normal crowd. Needless to say, he did not like it one bit.

Ben glanced passed his wrist and eyed the rest of his room. Sumo-Slammer's posters tacked on every blank wall spot, toys thrown about, a carpet that had one too many stains, and clothes strewn across the floor. Anyone would be repulsed by the idea of sleeping in such a place. But Ben liked it. Although, at times he wished he were back in the Rust Bucket with Gwen and Max.

Sighing, he finally rolled over on his bed and kicked his backpack down.

"I have homework," he repeated, "but people like me really don't have to do it."

The bag fell to the floor and chucked papers from an unzipped compartment – adding more to the messy room.

Just because Grandpa said I have to lie low doesn't really mean I really have to, he thought while simultaneously thinking of excuses to go hero. Switching from a free lifestyle of alien-kicking to a practically normal American domestic one was not easy – especially for a ten year old with a careless attitude who had tasted adventure.

Just then, a thought struck his mind. "Hey!" he shouted, caring not about who heard, as his parents were still at work, "All I have to do is turn on the TV and watch the news. If anything bad happens, a mysterious hero saves the day! And Gwen thinks I'm stupid," he smiled.

In an instant, Ben was on the floor pushing toys and clothes around looking for his TV remote. He stopped complaining about always having to look for it a while back, as it became a habit whenever he wanted to watch TV in his room. His parents constantly told him to clean it with no luck.

"Ha!" he cried out, holding up a black rectangular device with gray buttons. Hopping back upon his bed, he pressed the top-most button while aiming the remote at his TV near the bedroom door. The screen popped on and was already on a cartoon channel.

As much as Ben wanted to sit and watch the violence of the robotic toons battle each other, he decided that being an alien hero and smashing bad guys was a bit more fun.

Flipping to channel three, the screen changed to show a man with a gray bespoke suit on and raven hair pointing at a weather board.

"Come on...nobody cares about the stupid sky anyways," Ben commented.

"And tonight we can expect a few clouds and a nice breeze. Probably best to put a jacket on if you plan on heading out. But now we go back to Tom Hankerman with some breaking news," the weatherman spoke with a large smile.

At the notion of breaking news, Ben leaned forward slightly – kicking off his tennis shoes.

On the screen, another professional-looking man appeared with a comb-over hairstyle. He was definitely aged, but had an experienced look to himself.

"That's right," he began, appearing serious, "an organized gang of thieves has taken the Bellwood bank with a single officer hostage. All workers and pedestrians were let out, an unexpected but lucky event. According to the reports that..."

"Well if that isn't a call for a hero, then I don't know what is!" Ben jumped upon his bed and lifted the blinds from the window next to him. His room was now filled with the setting sun, casting an orange glow upon everything.

Caring little about the view, he unlatched the window and pulled it upwards. Looking out and down, he took note that he was only a story higher than the ground.

"This better work," he mumbled with a silent hope as he jumped from the window and pressed down on the activated Omnitrix.

Just before the green flash appeared, he had whispered something to the Omnitrix as if it could speak back. It was probably a wish, as he could be splattered if he turned into Gray Matter during the fall.

With luck, his body morphed into a tall, flaming pile of rocks. Better known as Heat Blast.

When he landed safely on the grass beneath him, Ben held up his hands in amazement.

"I wanted Four Arms...but at least my bones aren't broken." He pulled his arms behind him, ready to blast off using a trail of flames, but then: "Do I even have bones?"

. . .

Ben whisked through the skies leaving behind him a blazing line of fires that quickly burnt themselves out. He looked at the horizon and eyed the tall sky scrapers and smaller corporate business that made up Downtown Bellwood. The glass from the windows reflected the glare of the sun and made the whole city seem as though it were completely chromed.

As he flew above streets, he began to hear the rampaging noise of police sirens. No doubt they were headed towards the local bank to try and get their fellow officer out of bondage.

Ben followed one of the squad cars for a couple of turns until he spied the large white bank building himself. Two road blocks were set up at either ends of the street and at least four police cars were swiveled in front of the bank. Outside of each were two or three officers – one with a megaphone shouting promises to the bank building.

Ben rolled his eyes. "Do they every actually come out and surrender?"

Taking himself down, he swooped down towards the front part of the building and past all of the police. A few ducked, thinking they were about to be struck by something. Luckily they weren't.

Stopping just at the entrance to the bank, Ben discontinued his use of flying-by-fire and was just about to casually open the glass door to the bank when he heard an officer behind him shout nervously, "Uhh...you there! Fire guy! Step away from...the bank!"

Ben turned, jutting out his arm, "Hey I'm here to help." Unfortunately, the police officers thought otherwise. Once they saw the red, fiery arm pull up they all ducked.

"He's gonna shoot!" one of them shouted.

"Oh boy..." Ben shrugged and walked into the bank, not having anymore distractions.

The minute he entered the building he heard the sound of a bullet being shot. Looking ahead he noticed a man with a leather jacket and ski mask aiming a gun at him. However, behind the mask Ben could tell the man was panicking.

The bullet that had been shot was aimed directly at Ben, but the flames from Heat Blast's body disintegrated the metal just before it hit him.

"What the..." the robber said in shock, before dropping his gun and running behind the bank counter and into a room with a staircase.

Ben moved forward, smiling. "This sure beat doing that homework."

The bank was solid white with a single red rug going up to a white-marble counter. There were two doors on opposite ends of the same wall just behind the counter. The one Ben saw the guy go through had a staircase in it. The other one did not.

"At least I know where they're all held up at."

Just then, he heard the robber's voice again.

"No wait-oof!" The body of the shooter fell tumbling down the stairs, hitting the ground and letting out a few moans.

Ben eyed the scene a bit confused. "I know bad guys usually beat up their own team, but all he did was go up the stairs."

Walking across the tiled bank floor and into the little room with a staircase, he heard the sound of little footsteps running up just a few cases above him.

"Doesn't exactly sound like another big-bad robber..."

Running upwards, Ben began to chase the sound and follow whoever was running after the other bank robbers – or away from him.

The stairs were quite small, but there were a lot of them. Even with Heat Blast's physically-fit body, Ben was having trouble keeping up with whoever was ahead of him. And whoever it was, had good athletic potential.

Finally, he reached the only other floor with a room on it, which happened to be the fourth. The door on the left side of him was slightly opened, and from inside he could hear the sounds of people fighting. Skin hitting skin, and bones hitting bones.

Completely annoyed at how confused he was, Ben kicked open the door and held his fiery arms out in front of him. However, he wasn't prepared for what he was now seeing.

There were about three other guys lying unconscious on the floor, dressed similarly to how the first guy who tumbled down the stairs was. And just ahead of them were the only remaining two people in the building who wasn't in alien form.

One of them was dressed just like the rest, go figure. But the second was much shorter with a black, skin-tight costume on. He was even wearing a mask that looked like it came from some Mardi-Gras festival.

With one move of his leg, the masked attacker kicked the final bank robber right in the side of his face. He fell to the side and landed hard on the ground with a smack.

"Ouch," Ben said, letting his guard down. The person before him was obviously not a threat. He had just taken down a whole squad of robbers!

The noise coming from the flaming alien startled the masked hero, and he turned to look in that direction. For the first time, his eyes met Ben's.

"That was pretty cool," Ben commented. "Who are you? I haven't seen you before."

Without speaking, the person behind the mask nodded towards another door in the room, probably a closet, and ran out the second door leading to the staircase – seemingly in a hurry.

Taking one of his flaming fingers and rubbing it against his head, Ben looked around. "Well that was weird. Too bad, if he wouldn't of been wearing a mask and a complete costume that covered him from head to toe, I might of known him."

He walked over to the door the black-dressed person had told him to go to and opened it. Out came a police officer still clad in uniform, but with duck tape over his mouth and a blindfold covering his eyes. Ben was just about to help the man when the Omnitrix decided it was time to be a human again.

"On second thought," he said, "there are a lot of nice guys just like you outside."

With that, he ran out of the room and jumped down the staircase. Heading out the front of the bank, Ben passed the gathering of police by hopping over their heads.

"They're all yours!" he shouted to them – waving a friendly gesture.

A couple of the men must have remembered his fake attack from earlier as they began to run after him.

Ben made a leap for an alley way just as the Omnitrix time out. When the officers arrived in the little space between two buildings, all they found was a ten year old boy.

"Hey kid, whatya doin' out here? Dontcha know there's a robbery just at that bank over there?" A man, who had now put his gun away, called.

Ben shrugged, gaining the feel of his human body back. "Must've missed the news. But say...can one of you guys take me home? I'm kinda lost."

The three policemen that had been chasing some flaming monster looked at each other. Two of them stepped back, acting innocent, leaving one to sigh.

"Fine, I'll do it. Just tell me where ya' live."

Ben grinned, but soon his smile faded. It was past dark, and his parents were no doubt home. He groaned.

. . .

The ten year old sat in the back of the squad car which was going about 60 miles down the road. The skinny officer in front was having a mini-heart attack.

"You say ya' live WHERE?"

"Bellwood Residential," Ben responded cooly.

"And you expect me to believe that'cha got lost almost twenty miles from where ya' live?"

"Hey, things happen. I was just strolling down-"

Suddenly, the police radio buzzed until a transmission made it clearly through.

"All officers be on the lookout for a ten year old boy, brown hair, by the name of Ben Tennyson. He was reported by parents as missing, with proof that he ran away."

The man in the front seat glanced in his rear-view mirror at Ben. "That wouldn't happen to be you would it?"

Ben's foot shifted around and he tried to make an innocent smile appear on his young face. It never made it through.

. . .

Carl Tennyson stood at his front door eying his son walk up to their house partnered by local law enforcement. His aged features were crinkled in a way that anyone could tell was pure anger.

Ben began to slow down as he approached his enraged father, but was nudged by the police officer behind him.

The porch lights were on to brighten the front of the home, as the sun had now gone completely down and the moon was rising slowly.

Before getting straight to his son, Carl gave the man who brought Ben home a bit of thanks.

"I apologize greatly for the trouble my son has caused you today. I promise that he will be serving it out with a severe punishment."

The man in the blue uniformed played it like he took kids home every day. "No problem, sir. After all, making sure everyone is safe is part of my job."

"Of course," Carl replied, brushing part of his brown hair from his face, "goodnight to you."

"And to you, sir."

With a smooth sound, the squad car glided down the road and out of sight.

Ben attempted to sneak inside, but was firmly grasped on the shoulder.

"To the kitchen. Now!"

Oh man.

The pair walked into the home and walked passed the large living room and down a hallway with white walls. Pictures were nailed every foot apart on both sides.

Taking a turn, Carl guided his son into the bright kitchen and set him down in a chair at the breakfast table.

"Now tell me, what made you think that sneaking out after dark was okay?" Ben's father began, who had seemingly lost some of his anger on the walk inside.

Ben opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly cut off. Typical, he thought.

"Your mother is upstairs – locked in her room because she thinks shes been a bad parent to you. She won't even let me in because she partially blames me! Can you believe how upset that makes someone feel?"

"Big deal," Ben remarked, placing his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hand, "she'll get over it tomorrow."

Carl snarled, which seemed to take effort. His rage appeared to be returning. "Do you not understand, Benjamin?"

Oh great, the 'Benjamin' thing.

"We come home, expecting you to be here. We haven't seen you since the beginning of summer! We called your grandfather to see if you guys were running late, and we even called Gwen's house!"

"Eww," Ben automatically retorted, "why would I be over there."

"I have no idea!" Carl flung his hands in the air and turned around. "But we tried anyways. And don't act like you wouldn't want to be over there."

Suddenly, the conversation took Ben's interest. "Wait, what?"

"Son, you spent a whole summer with another girl. And at your age, it's fine to feel-"

"Whoa, dad slow down. I hated being with Gwen the whole summer. The queen of cooties next to you at all times. Someone kill me now..."

Carl's mood seemed to lighten up. "If you say so..."

The kitchen quickly got quiet as father and son occupied the same place. After a few minutes of Ben tapping on the wooden table, Carl finally said:

"I should ground you...but you're here now. And that's what counts, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, sure..." Ben said while looking around.

"So you think she'll get over it?"

The two smiled at each other. It was hard for Carl to stay mad at Ben for long periods of time. They had a strong father-son relationship, unlike Ben's dad and grandfather.

Sighing, Carl finally nodded for his son to leave the room. As Ben made his way up the stairs, he heard his dad shout, "And do your homework!"

Homework was the last thing on the boy's mind. What was really eating away at him was how he missed the action of knocking down a couple bad guys. Some short guy with a mask had came in and basically cleared the whole bank without help. The only thing Ben could remember about the person were his green eyes...