MHA: Ben 10 _ Down With The Heroes

A faint clack followed the closing of a door. Ben stood at the entrance for a few seconds then heaved a sigh, relieved that he was the only one home.

He made his way upstairs and tossed his bag onto his bed before heading for the adjacent bathroom. Piece by piece, he took all of his clothes off and went into the shower.

As the cold water fell on his body, he remained still and watched the small streams of red whirl around the drain before being washed away by the flowing water.

Five minutes later, he turned the water off and wiped himself. Though it was quite refreshing, the reflection in the sink mirror wasn't that of someone who had just enjoyed a nice shower.

The lusterless green eyes stared back at him, the judgemental look in them hard to ignore. A few seconds later, another sigh escaped him as he reached out and opened the small cabinet, took out a few things then sat down on the toilet.

He let a few drops of alcohol seep into the white fabric of some sterile cotton then placed the small bottle on the sink.

"Fucking fish bastard…"

His knuckles were in a pretty bad shape. The skin was torn off for the umpteenth time, and despite being used to the process by now, he couldn't help but wince each time he felt the sting while cleaning the wounds.

The distinct sound of the front door closing reached him just as he was done wrapping his left hand in bandages. Pursing his lips, Ben tossed the blood-stained cotton and bandages into the trash can then put on some clothes.

"Benjamen!"

He came out of the bathroom and deliberately closed the door forcefully to make his presence known.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming..." Muttering to himself, he ruffled his brown hair then sighed for the umpteenth time.

Judging by the tone of that call from just now, it was obvious he was in for a lecture.

~[ ]~

A laptop was placed in front of Ben the moment he sat down at the dining table. The screen displayed a video of a familiar basketball court. A big crowd surrounded the fence and a guy with blue skin stood at the center.

Ben didn't need to watch the rest to know what would happen so he pressed the space bar and paused the video. A hand reached out from beside him and pressed it again.

This time, the video continued until the end without interruption. The silence returned to the room right after. Ben continued to stare at the screen, his expression as indifferent as it was through the entire watch. Eventually, a sigh came from his left and the lecture began.

"I thought we already talked about this. You-"

"Nope." Ben interrupted before it could go on. "You did all the talking. I never got a word in."

"So you just ignored everything I said?"

"Not really. I just didn't bother following your advice."

"You think this is a joke? The kid is in the hospital!"

Ben narrowed his eyes and shifted his gaze to the left. A man was sitting right beside him, an angry look making the wrinkles on his face worse. The two shared the same brown hair and green eyes, but the resemblance only became clearer the longer one looked at them.

His name was Carlton "Carl" Tennyson, Benjamin Kirby "Ben" Tennyson's father.

"So?"

The curt response painted the man's face red. His balled hands trembled and he looked to be struggling to hold something in. Ben watched him for a few seconds then turned to face the laptop screen.

"The bastard picked a fight. He got no right to complain."

"That's not the point!" Carl slammed the table with his right hand.

"I told you to cut it out! Do you think things would always turn out this way? Why do you keep treating your life so poorly?"

"So I should just shut it and let them step on me?"

"Nobody would be stepping on you if you didn't go around provoking people!"

"Oh, so I'm provoking people now?" The boy scoffed. "Guess invalids really are a problem."

"You know that's not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean, Dad? You want me to keep my head down and pray those bastards forget about me? How did that work out for you?"

"I just don't want you to get hurt, damn it!"

"I will get hurt either way so might as well hurt the bastards while I'm at it!"

The shouting match suddenly halted. The two noticed that they had stood up at some point and were glaring each other in the face. As it went on for a while, Ben let out a sigh and sat back in his chair.

"I told you to keep your nose out of my matters." He said.

"As if you've given me a choice." Carl's voice softened, though he remained standing. "I don't want you to end up in a hospital bed, or worse…"

Silence permeated the dining room once more. Ben kept his gaze averted, the frown never leaving his face.

"Ben... those kids did nothing wrong..."

"..."

"You can't keep doing this."

"..."

"Ben…" his jaw tightening, Carl suppressed the bitter sensation in his throat and spoke in a trembling voice. "Revenge won't bring them back. Just let it go already."

The boy didn't react at first. Seconds later, he slowly turned to look at his old man.

"What did you say?"

Carl looked him in the eyes and took on the anger contained within them. He then reached into the bag hanging on his chair and took out something. It was a small paperback, the title of which came into sight once he placed it on the table.

[The League Of Villains.]

Staring at the book for some time, Ben then turned his eyes to his father, asking the question that came to his mind the moment he saw the dark red cover.

"Where did you get this?"

"I found it while cleaning the Rust Bucket," Carl replied. "Someone is looking to buy it."

Ben shot up to his feet, the abrupt motion causing the chair to fall with a clatter.

"You… you're selling it?"

"Yes." Closing his eyes, Carl added, "It's been a long time coming."

Ben opened his mouth only to close it a second later. He kept at it for a few more seconds, and after a few failed attempts, some words finally sounded from him.

"That's… that's grandpa's…" His voice dripped with pain. "You… how can you…"

"It's time to move on. We-"

Carl didn't get to say the rest. His son, the boy he raised for seventeen long years, stormed out without saying another word. He glanced at the table and saw that the book was gone. A loud bang signaled the front door closing, and hearing it from all the way in the dining room, Carl could only sigh and hand his head.