Title: Predictable Reactivity
Summary: Gwen and Kevin sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N- wait. What? (Ben/Gwen, Gwen/Kevin, Ben/Julie). Mature.
Warning: Deals with the following themes, incest, some explicit sexual themes, underage teenagers, language, and some other things I may of have forgotten. In other words, this is rated M for a reason though I think it may be a bit too much. I'd rather play it safe.
A/N: Made the mistake of watching Ben 10: Alien Force the other day. I love Ben. I love Gwen. Kevin and Julie? Not so much. Unsurprisingly, they're almost MIA here. Almost. Dedicated to Doc Boy for various reasons-I hope you enjoy.

EDIT: Re-uploading this fic because this website erased the scene breaks and smashed it all together making it look like a wall of words and unreadable.

Thanks to the anonymous person that informed me of this mishap. Some grammatical edits were made, but nothing new was added.

Standard disclaimers apply.

He stood strong and proud, his panoply a wrist watch (and where are the damned trophies now?), and friends (a cousin and an ex-convict), except they're not just friends anymore, and it's weird if Ben thinks about it too much, so he doesn't.

Like how Kevin and Gwen disappear sometimes. He doesn't normally put much thought behind this either or else his temper will get the best of him, and it really shouldn't. He's been trying to taper that though. He remembers the past and that it told him the future.

Ben doesn't mean to (honest to god he could live without the memory). He catches them in the back alley of some two bit town where they're just strangers looking for answers to questions that almost don't exist. Ben has known for a long time about Kevin and Gwen, and Gwen and Kevin. He's known what Kevin is, hell he's fifteen he knows hormones they paid a visit earlier the very day, so he's not surprised but.

But Kevin's hands are underneath Gwen's blouse, Gwen's blouse– that's what she wears now because of something that sounds vaguely mature-like grownups playing dress up- but it's hard to be classy and refined and all that shit when you're making out with an ex-convict in the dark of an alley, with trash and god knows what else as witness, and-and shit. He can see Kevin's hand tracing patterns on bare skin as Gwen pushes forward-he wonders, for a horrifying second, just how far they've gone when Kevin's hand moves up-up towards her fuck—Ben wants to tell them this is wrong, so very wrong, vomit a little too.

Instead he says "A-hem." Enunciates the words to be obnoxious and watches them both split apart with morbid pleasure. Then they kind of stare back at him with wide guilty eyes, so he kind of stares back. Belatedly he crosses his arms because suddenly he's not quite sure what he's supposed to do with them. Frowns for a moment and closes his eyes for another, conscience forever stained.

"Oh, hey Ben," Kevin says casually as if he wasn't groping his cousin, oh right—ohgod—his cousin, five seconds ago, and Ben wants to smash his fist on his face but doesn't. He raises an eyebrow sincerely hoping it is nonchalant, his shoulders feeling har—stif—nononono. His shoulders hurt. There is a faint throb inside his head forming too.

"It's not what it-" Gwen starts, Ben forces a smile and raises his hand to wave her off, "Ok." He says a tad bit too quickly. Play it normal, he thinks. Gwen's eyebrows furrow while Kevin tries to smile but it looks off. Everything is off if they asked him. But they don't. So.

"It's none of my business," Ben says when nothing else is.

It sounds 'appropriate' enough, even though 'appropriate' has been out the window for at least five minutes now, but Kevin and Gwen both look at him as if he's lost his mind or something, so he shakes his head while chuckling—it sounds fake even to his own ears. He's trying damnit. The dull thrum of pain on his temple increases and apparently spreads so it rests inside his chest, dull, monotonous and kind of just there. Ben doesn't know what to label that; he doesn't try. He's not sure what to do with his smile either, it's getting uncomfortable, and he doesn't think anyone is buying it anymore. He almost drops it but it seemed like a very important gesture when he plastered it on, so he keeps it up for the sake of at least doing something. Unlike them.

"Come on," he starts, so as to break the weird atmosphere between them, "let's go home. I have soccer practice tomorrow morning, you know."

Kevin laughs, voice tight and high, while Gwen continues to stare at the ground, his stomach clenches when she looks up at him hesitantly, and Ben stands in front of them feeling wholly out of place which kind of pisses him off. It shouldn't, but it does. It doesn't matter anyway because at this moment they mutely vow to never speak of it again.

Ben plans to wash his brain, with bleach if possible, as soon as he gets home. Momentarily wonders about the intelligence of it—but yeah, no. It's required.

.-.

The ride home is quiet and tense, and he catches Gwen's guilty gaze through the rear-view mirror twice, but he's not sure what to do with it—honestly he just doesn't know what to do— so he looks out to the changing landscape except all he can see is the murky reflection of his own face and the hard lines of Kevin's twitchy, nervous frown.

Kevin drops off Gwen first, Ben suspects it is out of courtesy towards him—whatever it's not like order matters to him—then he gets home, says goodbye to Kevin, who tries to pass a joke as an apology which he shrugs off with a smile, and doesn't fall asleep for hours because he's—and Gwen would laugh at him if she ever found out—thinking a bit too much.

Next morning, he's pelted on the face with soccer balls. Coach says he needs to pay more attention; Ben wonders what would happen if he actually does.

.-.

He doesn't see Kevin or Gwen for a couple days, and it's not as if he's avoiding them, no, not really, he's busy! He has school to focus on, and there is Julie (who, incidentally, he hasn't seen in a while either), and of course soccer, and he knows both Kevin and Gwen can handle themselves—he tries not to think about them…and alone time too much even though he does. A lot.

And he's doing well too, not avoiding them that is–busy!—until Gwen corners him after school and when he tells her he's really swamped with homework Gwen just smiles as she offers him help, smoothies, and it sucks he can't refuse her. He figures he needs to pull up his grade anyway. And he kind of missed her. And Kevin, but Ben's admits to nothing. Nothing!

.-.

It must be some sort of cruel twist of fate—or is it irony?—that he's sitting on her bed a smoothie between his hands, while she sits across of him trying to figure out his homework and all he can do is fantasize her on this bed with Kevin.

It's worse that sometimes Kevin is not Kevin but rather himse—Ben sips on his smoothie quickly hoping for brain freeze. It doesn't work, of course, but his skin crawls and he suspects it has nothing to do with his drink and how cold it is.

Gwen works in silence, once in a while asking him relevant questions, though they really both should be working on the homework, but when he leaned over her to look over the assignment it was…she inched away from him, and wouldn't meet his eye turning her head fully away so he's just staring at her red hair. And, and he didn't know what to do with that except frown and almost throw his hand up in frustration.

Which is why he is sitting on the bed where it is apparently ok. She speaks to him then, and looks at him, and though her movements are rigid, he figures it's better than nothing.

Ben can't help frowning at the back of her head, be it unresponsive or not, it gives him a sense of self-satisfaction. Eventually he turns to stare at her wall and the assortment of trophies and other whatnot's she has littered in her room; the back of her head is boring even if her hair is pretty. He's considering the pros and cons of sitting in her room in uncharacteristically dense silence when she suddenly speaks startling him enough to spill his smoothie on his hand.

"Ben…about the other nigh—"

"Whoa!" He cuts her off brusquely, shaking his smoothie-covered hand in front of him, "I don't want to know," which was true enough though Gwen was insistent and he indifferent (a lie), until she gives up and sits across of him awkwardly and the entire thing throws him off. He doesn't remember a time when they were like this—unable to meet each other's eyes out of uncertainty rather than anger, resentment, confusion, worry or frustration. This is new and he is not particularly fond of it.

He scoffs, and flops on her bed, not capable of watching her watch her feet. They're attached to her and he's pretty sure they're not going to take off on their own. Unless she has a new trick to show him in which case he would welcome the distraction.

Gwen sighs, the sound makes his shoulders tense and bunch together anticipating the inevitable. "It was nothing." She says after a while, he props himself on his elbows and nods dumbly—Ben doesn't remember Gwen ever doing something that meant nothing—goody-two-shoes.

He frowns at the return of the dull throb in his chest he developed when he caught her and Kevin in the back alley, and he's only felt something like this after grandpa's 'death', and when he took off the watch five years earlier and when Kai crushed him under a minute because he wasn't especial enough, and boy wasn't that a trip.

So he wipes his hand on his shirt, blinks, finds her staring at him, lips set in a firm line. Ben rolls his eyes at her, opting to lie back down on the bed once again and stare at the ceiling. He says, "It's not like it happens all the time," laughs tensely. And because Ben obviously wants to be the cat with a death wish, adds "right?"

Ben waits for the answer, the air between them charged, prickly and tense. He lifts his head only to meet uncertainty again. Gwen bites her lips, furrows her eyebrows and looks past his shoulder and Ben kind of wants to slam his forehead against something hard and solid, or more like kick Kevin's ass, but first he feels he must pick up his voice box from the vicinity of his stomach. And his heart, although he has no idea what it's doing down there.

Gwen fidgets in her chair, while the energy between them changes. Shifts. Deflates like his ego. This all feels like a letdown.

He groans, waits a second to make sure his voice works, "Ok, yeah, gross, now I really don't wanna know."

They both laugh uneasily at his lameness, finish his homework, quickly and efficiently—this is Gwen after all—and he leaves just like he came, and hah. Nothing is resolved, except nothing was wrong in the first place, even if it feels weird. So there.

Now he has this unbearable lingering urge to just punch Kevin.

.-.

Ben's trying to figure out a class assignment debating if he wanted to risk another uncomfortable evening with Gwen and her help when he hears, "Hey Ben!"

He suppresses a guilty wince.

Right. He has a girlfriend. A very pretty, mild-mannered girlfriend that likes him—all of him, watch, weirdness and all—and who is patient, caring and is staring at him with worry. Ben feels like a complete wimp for a second.

"Hey," he calls back giving her a quick nod as he shoves his books into his locker figuring homework could wait.

"Busy?" She asks, a bright smile still on her face. It makes him feel out of place, like he's pinned to a dissecting table waiting to be cut open and exposed to the entire world.

He clears his throat, but when that doesn't work he shakes his head willing his voice to function again, fails, then smiles in a way that he hopes she understands.

She does, god she's like perfect (why does this bother him again?).

"We~ell," Julie starts, her smile spreading wide until he is, inevitably, smiling along with her, "You know that project for English? We should totally work on it together."

He assents with a quick nod and a smile, "Awesome!" Julie clasps her hand behind her, "So, come by my place later tonight, seven ok?"

He assents again and waves good bye. Gwen would have to wait he decides. The thought resonates strangely in his head, but he lets it go. It's just an English assignment. With his girlfriend.

And Gwen. Gwen is busy too. Not avoiding him like he is not avoiding her and all that. So.

.-.

Spending some time with Julie eases his mind a little-he's not sure what it is that it eases, but he's grateful for it nonetheless.

It must be how cheerful she constantly is, or how she puts him at ease, or that she's so freaking intent on him, or maybe it's that he's paranoid she'll be like Kai and like him for being weird and not, well, himself which should put him on edge but really just makes him feel prepared. But still. He likes the sort-of peace she offers.

They work well with each other, so well they end up going out for dinner, and a walk around the park near her house. He lets her do most of the talking, adding necessary commentary once in a while, until he notices she's not talking and he's agreeing to nothing. He flushes in embarrassment, but she either doesn't notice, or doesn't care. He thinks it's the latter.

"Hey Ben?" She stops walking abruptly in which he accidentally keeps walking for a second too long though he catches himself. Ben tilts his head towards her general direction in confusion.

"Yeah?"

"Did something happen?" He stares at her for a long moment before the question is finally translated to his brain, "Wha?" he asks. Smooth Tennyson.

"I mean, you've been so quiet, and I haven't seen Gwen in a while or-or Kevin…I was, I was just wondering if…you guys were fighting. Um, each other I mean, not the alien…bad…guys?"

Ben gapes at Julie for a second, then, for whatever reason, laughs. Long and hard until he's gasping for air and tears are threatening to fall. He takes a big breath, lets it out and shakes his head, amused (but, no, not really).

"No, nothing like that."

When he meets her gaze he sobers up immediately. "Why do ask?"

Julie stares at him for a long moment before she breaks into a smile, her lips are thin, strained, and there is no mirth behind it, "Forget it. Anyway, it's getting late, I'll…see you in school Ben."

"Oh, I-I'll walk you–" he starts offering but she cuts him off, "It's fine!" Then she takes off running, a lazy wave thrown his way. He stares off after her until he can't see her and a bit longer after that too, frustration replacing concern.

Ben shrugs, whatever. So she's acting weird, EVERYONE is acting weird these days. Whatever.

He doesn't notice that he's upset (really upset) until he's home and slamming doors and kicking things out of his way, and his dad is yelling at him to behave or he'll be grounded again, and whatever. Just, whatever. So what if Julie left him in the middle of a park, or if it feels like she was frustrated and faking cheerfulness he didn't notice until it literally hit him in the face, so what. It bothers him anyway.

It doesn't help that Gwen and her parents are coming over for dinner later and he just doesn't feel like talking to her, or looking at her, or even thinking about her but here he is. About to do all three.

.-.

That night, after dinner and a verbal fight with Gwen, he sits in the dark of his room fingers inching down, downdowndown, and there is no pride in that but he needs the relief, his fingers grip, smooth over, down and around himself until he's breathing quickly, jarringly, and his body is trembling, and his voice hitches—there's something thick and dry like cotton balls inside his throat, and afterward he crumples the used tissues and tosses them, turns over and pretends it was nothing just like Kevin and Gwen in the back alley was nothing.

The sensation is stuck in the back of his throat, thick like syrup. When he sees Gwen (Kevin a few steps behind her) the next morning it gets worse.

(He's distracted enough not to notice Kevin's hand and where they were. Really.)

They make up. Really. (He makes up with Julie too. Kind of.)

.-.

Awkward is not the right word to describe Julie right now, but he decided it fit. Because she's never been timid, nor she has ever avoided his eyes, and never has she ever hesitated to tell him something either.

This is so out of character for her, he stares at her wondering if she is an alien in disguise while the real Julie's trapped somewhere in a spaceship or a coal mine, or a well. It's, she's. It's strange. Because now she smiles a smile he doesn't recognize, and doesn't grab his hand when he reaches forward, and she still won't meet his eyes.

"We should get dinner." She says after a while, resolutely .

"Okay."

"Italian. Italian sounds good."

"Okay."

And even in a building trying to catch that whole 'love' crap that girls his age adored, he feels like he is sitting across a Julie he'd never met.

.-.

They have another date the next day. And the next, and the next. French, Greek, Indian. They're flops.

He's not sure what exactly she's trying to prove, but he sits across of her each and every time hoping it helps. This time, its Mexican—the restaurant is loud, lively, bright and the complete opposite of how he feels at the moment. They wait patiently (quietly) for their dinner to come. He drums his fingers on the table, staring out the window (frowning every time he sees red hair), while she methodologically tears the napkin wrapped around their silverware.

"Ben, how are Gwen and Kevin?" The question feels almost like an accusation, heavy with implications of things he didn't even want to think about.

"I don't know." He says, when she just stares blankly at him, he asks, "Why?"

Julie shrugs, "Every time they're upset, it seems you are too."

"They're fine." he says through gritted teeth.

"Oh."

They eat in silence, and sit in silence, and after a while, he decides this date is another flop, and he wants to go home, take a shower and try again the next day.

"Gwen looks upset."

Ben nearly chokes on his drink, but looks around nonetheless expecting his cousin, "W-what?"

"Gwen. She looks upset these days. She barely speaks up in class now."

"Oh, ok." Julie looks startled for a second, like she suddenly understood something. He squints his eyes at her, trying to decipher just what exactly she is thinking—saying.

"I think...I think Gwen is upset with Kevin."

"Really?" He's not sure why he's suddenly so tense, or why his heart is thumping so rapidly, or why Julie is staring at her hands with eyes so wide and unsure, and petrified.

"Yeah... And, and I don't think Kevin realizes this."

"Kevin can be a bit dense, but...I think he'll figure it out."

Julie stares at him with an expression he doesn't understand anymore, and his chest clenches for a second, and he starts panicking and he really has no idea why (honest). Julie smiles, slow and deliberate. He's suddenly struck by how pretty she is.

"Yeah. I think so too."

(It's hours later and he realizes that Gwen doesn't go to the same school he and Julie do.)

.-.

"Are you jealous?" Gwen asks one late night. He's sure she's doing it to piss him off, part of him—there's something wrong with him, he knows it, he knows it!—is really glad she is. Like old times, he can't let go of his past, is kind of petrified of what his future might be like if he's not careful, he's fucked up. He's sure of it.

"No." He says. Holds her gaze for a second as if to prove a point, and there is no point really, before looking away, "Like I said, not my business."

It sounds petulant. Gwen, who doesn't seem to pick it up, sits back and for the rest of the evening doesn't look him in the eye. His stomach turns painfully, like car parts grinding against each other, as they sit in silence. He's tired of it, really tired of it. He misses Gwen, even if she's three feet in front of him, it feels like it's an entire gulf.

"Let's get a smoothie," he says as if it is to fix everything (here's to hoping).

.-.

In the end Kevin joins them, and they go on a long drive to nowhere. Ben is nice enough to remind Kevin he's on his own with gas this time. He's flat out broke (Julie hasn't returned his phone calls or his text messages). Kevin and Gwen both glare at him through the rear-view mirror—fuck why is he always sitting in the back. He calls shot gun next, immediately regretting it.

Kevin looks put-off for the next few seconds until Gwen pats his shoulder, then turns to him and glares at him.

"Too bad." she says acidly. He's staring at the juncture where her hand meets Kevin's shoulder, and feels something crawl on the back of his neck, hot and angry.

"It's my turn."

"Says who?"

"Says me! I'm tired of...of always having to stare at you two being lovey-dovey with each other."

"W-wha—"

"You don't have to, you can always just turn into one of those aliens—"

"And leave you two alone—"

"Shut-shut up you two!" Kevin yells finally, his eyes nearly bugging out of his eyes. His cheeks are an interesting shade of pink. Ben almost mocks it. Almost. Instead he sits back into the backseat and looks out the window. There's nothing interesting out there but its better than looking at Kevin's hand on his cousin's (his cousin) hand.

"Just because Julie dumped you doesn't mean—"

Ben stares at the back of Kevin's head, doesn't hear the end of his sentence. He blinks, Ben doesn't remember being upset about that.

Belatedly, he says, "Julie didn't dump me."

.-.

Kevin parks his car on the middle of nowhere. There is only dirt, and rocks, and no trees, and the blue sky and he bolts out the door before he can even begin processing the action.

A few paces behind him is Gwen, (he's glad, he's mad, he's mixed up) following him.

"Ben!" He ignores her, picking up his pace, "Ben!" She shrieks shrilly, and that makes him stop for a second, because annoying his cousin has always been something he loved no matter how old they were, or how close they got.

"What's gotten into you?" She asks quickly catching up to him.

"What, do you care?" Gwen bristles he thinks she's about to fry him on the spot with her alien powers.

"You know, on most days I do. When you're not acting like a complete jerk."

"Whatever," he grunts, "shouldn't you be with your boyfriend?"

"Kevin's not—" she grits her teeth grabbing his forearm—his skin crawls where her nails dig into him. "It doesn't matter."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Liar!"

"God! Whatever, you're being such a baby!"

"Yeah well—" he's stuck! He's stuck! Shit, what is he supposed to say to that? "Well at least I don't go behind your back to grope Julie!"

Gwen splutters, throws her arms in the air, "Like I'd care!" They both flinch at her words, but she continues unmercifully, "Besides, to quote you: that's none of your business!"

"Well I take it back because-because—" he falters when he realizes he has no idea what he's supposed to say, "you're my cousin." He finishes lamely, as if saying that Gwen would somehow understand because obviously he doesn't understand anything either.

Gwen sighs, "I don't know what your problem is Ben, but if you—"

"You are my problem."

Gwen reels back clearly offended. She huffs and stalks opposite of him, to put as much distance between them as possible, muttering obscenities. And, well, at least at the very moment, he is being honest, right?

.-.

Deciding that enough is enough, he marches back to the car, but whatever emotion he had dissipated as he approached the car. He spots Gwen sitting in the front seat of the car, arms crossed, while Kevin sits beside her an expression Ben can't quite categorize but looks a lot like hopelessness. Ben feels a twinge of guilt as he almost climbs into the back of the car but remembers that he's already called shotgun and that he wants to really bug Gwen, get under her skin like she has gotten under his.

So he pries the passenger door open—conveniently ignoring Kevin's outraged cry at the maltreatment of his car—and orders Gwen to get out, to which she raises an incredulous eyebrow. He wraps his hand around her arm and she pulls him closer in an attempt to pry his hand off. He stumbles, catches himself, scowls and pulls her once again until they're actually pushing against each other—and, and it's weird and kind of refreshing to have adrenaline rushing through his veins and the old familiarity of their brawls as they roll unto the ground, both aiming to pin the other down. Dirt, sweat, and her hair gets stuck on his mouth and he splutters gripping her arms tightly—she lets out this weird moan that he doesn't, it sounds like—

Of course the fight doesn't last long—he…he wasn't winning, Gwen is a Karate master or whatever—Kevin breaks it up in a manner of seconds. The result is inevitable as he ends up in the back of the car, scuffed and ego bruised, arms crossed too, and when no apologies are traded, Kevin drives them all back home, angry words directed at the two them spilling out of his mouth.

"What am I? Your babysitter?" Kevin grunts fixing them both with a frustrated glower. Gwen remains silent; glares at Ben through the rear-view mirror for the entire ride back home. He returns the favor.

.-.

That Friday Julie breaks up with him. It's nothing personal, she says, but. But it really is and in the back of his mind Ben knows it's more than just not seeing each other in the eye and more like he's not able to see her in the eyes anymore.

He's angry but when he starts thinking about it again, (and again), he realizes that his ego is bruised. But. But he's not really surprised. So why does it feel like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop?

.-.

When he calls Julie over to the bleachers, he hears a few girls giggle and a couple of guys give him knowing winks. Now that he's in front of her all the practiced speeches he had prepared flew out of his mind. Ben tries anyway.

"I don't...want us to be like this." He gestures between himself and Julie—they've never done awkward, and now they are, and it's...well awkward.

"Like what, Ben?"

"I...don't know. But I don't like it!"

"Okay. Let's be friends."

"Julie,"

"Ben, it's okay. We'll be okay, just wait for me a little longer, please?"

"Okay." He feels a bit relieved, and he's really not sure why. He has the utmost trust for her, and so maybe they're not boyfriend and girlfriend anymore, but they're friends, and that's what matter most to him anyway.

.-.

Once, oh so long ago, Gwen—fricken know-it-all-told him that a crush was a crush because it tended to be painful. Like running into a brick wall—except it doesn't exist, and he would get over it. At the time he was kind of grateful because it hurt, his ego and all that junk.

He was like eleven years old and someone else had said to him ("Oh Ben,") that it was called puppy love, and that it passes, you know? Like his obsession with Sumo Slammers and that annoying t-shirt with the black stripe he wore for years, except he still collects Sumo Slammers paraphernalia and his soccer jersey is a replica of his old t-shirt. Still. It passes. He'll forget about it, but it's hard to forget about your first love when she makes regular visits to his house, or vice versa, to remind him why she was his first. First crush.

Reasoning, at this point, seems like a waste. Because if he does that he'd then be forced to admit that he's jealous, and that he's still not over his puppy love even if he has (had) a girlfriend, and it would force him to reconsider his relationship with Gwen and he likes his relationship with Gwen, even if Kevin is now included in it, and Ben admits to nothing. Except maybe that he's tired of the entire thing.

But right now, staring at the top of her head, well. He's grateful for the kind words and all that junk, but her head isn't that interesting (still) even if he thinks that her hair color is pretty. Just because they're supposed to stay together in her room and resolve their problems, Ben finds he can't. Especially because it's Kevin who shoved them both in the room and locked it. They could escape, but they don't, and he doesn't look too deep into that or. Whatever.

"So, Gwen, trouble in paradise?" He asks a bit resentful, harshly and hopeful (in the back of his mind he acknowledges his own superb stupidity).

Shockingly, nothing is resolved; whatever.

.-.

Impending doom—that's what it feels like to be stared at by a berserk Gwen. Luckily Ben was not her target—though he pities her current targets since he's sure he's partially to blame for her anger. But he doesn't see Gwen apologizing and he's not about to either, its better this way. In crazytown. Still.

When she's done with her targets –they groan, and try to stand but there's no point in fighting anymore—she turns to him and punches him so hard he feels he lost a few teeth.

"What's your problem!" He yells tenderly rubbing his cheek—it's going to swell tomorrow, perfect. Just perfect. He glares at her even though he's making sure she doesn't have any serious wounds. Kevin, god knows why, stands behind her quietly, warily and for a second he can see himself in Kevin. Kevin nods once—Ben is inexplicably thankful for the gesture, so Ben gives Kevin a hesitant smile Kevin doesn't return.

Gwen waves a hand around dismissive of his worried attention, "You're my problem," she says weakly throwing back his words from earlier. His mouth quirks upwards.

"Should I storm off now?"

"Shut up, dweeb," Gwen snorts struggling to sit upright, he helps her up as he laughs a little. The pressure in his chest finally settling into something else. He doesn't know what to call it either, but whatever-because, because he missed this. Missed her.

"Hey Gwen…" he starts even though he's not sure where the sentence or the thought is going, but he feels he needs to start somewhere, why not here?

"Forget it, Ben." Gwen tells him dusting her arm off. Though he stares at her blankly for a second, he knows he should say something else. But there isn't much else to do, though he can't just forget it, or let it go. But she asked, and nicely too.

"Fine. Whatever."

There is a stretch of silence between them, like it's weighed down with thick anticipation. He frowns, glances behind Gwen's shoulder, Kevin and the guys Gwen just beat up are nowhere to be seen—he shouldn't feel relieved—glances back at Gwen.

"Um—"

"Shut it. I just want a shower ." That shouldn't have made him shiver, but it did, and even though Ben doesn't know what to label this feeling, the weird sensation of accomplishment and relief, and happiness he rolls with it. It's an improvement from before.

"I'm sorry," Gwen says, to his face, clear and honest and sincere and this time Ben takes the apology with a cocky smile.

Helping her up, they easily fall into the comfortable routine they've always had, "And you say I'm a dweeb."

Gwen punches his arm a playful scowl on her face, but he's not complaining. He seriously missed this. They trade smirks, and when she stands her smile radiant, arms splayed out before her like she's ready to catch the world, he declares her a celebration of the ordinary (but he's the idiot moth drawn to the flame).

He can't help it—Ben reaches forward.

A/N: This is rather erratic, long and..fragmented. Sorry. I don't know—I started this with an idea but it warped and I got this, and nothing is really resolved, but I didn't want to continue pushing it. Whatever 'it' is. I just wanted to write a Bwen fic and I had started this a long time ago but couldn't understand what was so off about it. I still don't, but it's been gathering dust in my hardrive and the Gwen fic archive count is far, far, too low. So. Jolly ranchers.

R&R, please?