Chapter 10: Family Matters
Author Note: Crazy, still #17 😮💨 Wellhere's the chapter I promised. Goal for tomorrow is Top 10 too, for two chapters. No surprise bonus if we don't meet it next time tho so start voting!
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After our gritty and eventful run-in with the X-Men, Grandpa Max decided we needed a break from the world's chaos.
That's how we ended up parking the Rust Bucket on this sleepy suburban street lined with identical houses and impossibly green lawns. It was something right out of a cartoon!
"Here we are," Grandpa Max announced, switching off the engine. The RV gave a wheezing sigh as it settled, like it was relieved for the break too.
"Finally," I grumbled.
Grandpa's face softened as he gazed out at the modest two-story house with its white picket fence and garden gnomes standing guard. "It's been, what, three years since I've seen Vera? Time flies."
I yawned, stretching my arms overhead until my joints popped. "Great. An old person's house. I can already smell the mothballs and hard candy."
"Ben," Grandpa warned, but there wasn't much heat behind it. He'd been in an unusually good mood since we'd left Washington DC, probably because we weren't being chased by mutants anymore.
"What?" I defended myself. "I'm just saying, how exciting can visiting one's grand-aunt really be? Does she at least have cable?"
Gwen emerged from the tiny bathroom, and I instinctively looked at her. When I looked back at Grandpa again, my head snapped to take a double-take.
Whoa. Is that Gwen for that?
Gone were her practical jeans and sensible tops. Instead, she wore a fitted black T-shirt that hugged her curves in ways I tried not to notice, paired with a delicate pearl necklace and a skirt that showed off more leg than I was comfortable seeing on my cousin.
Her hair was styled differently too—softer somehow. She noticed my eyes, crossing her arms trying to give me a judging look, but her eyes failed to meet mine.
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"What's with the fancy getup?" I spoke up before she could. "Didn't realize we were meeting the Queen of England."
Gwen rolled her eyes, clearing her throat and adjusting her necklace. "Some of us actually care about making good impressions, Ben. Not that you'd understand the concept."
I snorted. "Yeah, because great-aunt Vera is really going to care about your fashion choices."
The RV door swung open, and Grandpa was already halfway down the steps. I laughed at Gwen and then followed.
I jumped the last step and landed on perfectly manicured grass. The summer heat hit me immediately, and I tugged at my t-shirt collar, already feeling sweat forming.
Gwen descended after me, somehow managing to look graceful despite the awkward RV steps. The sunlight caught her hair, making it look more copper than orange. Uh, not that I was paying attention or anything.
The front door of the house flew open before we even reached the walkway.
A silver-haired woman in a floral dress stepped out, her face lighting up at the sight of us. Despite being Grandpa's sister, she looked a decade younger—her posture straight, her movements energetic as she hurried toward us.
"Maxwell! Finally!" she called out, waving enthusiastically.
"Vera," Grandpa responded with equal warmth, opening his arms for a hug.
She embraced him briefly before her attention snapped to Gwen. Her eyes widened dramatically, hands flying to her cheeks.
"My goodness, is that Gwendolyn!?" Grandma Vera gasped, holding Gwen at arm's length and looking her up and down appreciatively. "Look at you, all dressed up! Who's the lucky young man who convinced you to look so charming?"
I felt my ears perk up involuntarily. Ah right, girls don't dress up like that for no reason. Interesting…
Gwen's cheeks flushed slightly pink, but she recovered quickly with a light laugh. "No one, Grandma Vera. I just thought I'd dress nicely to see you."
Vera's eyes twinkled with that knowing look adults get when they think they've caught onto something. "Of course, dear. It's just nice to see you taking an interest in your appearance. You're becoming such a beautiful young woman."
She turned to me next, and somehow her smile widened even wider. "And Benjamin! My favorite little troublemaker."
"Ah, yes."
Before I could dodge, she had me in a surprisingly strong hug, then pulled back to ruffle my hair. "What's that dry reply, hm? Still getting into mischief, I hope?"
"You have no idea," I mumbled, thinking about the alien watch on my wrist and the trail of destruction we'd left behind in DC.
"Max," she said, turning back to Grandpa and poking his stomach playfully, "you've gained weight! I told you to lay off those processed foods. Come in, come in, I've made lunch—something healthy to counteract whatever bizarre concoctions you've been feeding these poor children."
As they started toward the house, busy chatting among themselves, I lagged behind intentionally.
My eyes automatically scanned the neighborhood, it was an habit I was coming to build recently.
Everything looked normal—maybe suspiciously so. Perfect lawns, clean sidewalks, neighbors waving cheerfully from porches.
If my newly unlocked memories of the cartoon served me right, Grandma Vera's retirement community had been a front for alien activity. Was it the same in this world too?
This world was different. This wasn't just Ben 10, it was the Marvel Universe, where aliens were typically handled by SHIELD or the military rather than allowed to set up cozy suburban infiltration points.
From how Animo was connected to the Brotherhood of Mutants, the influence of the Marvel Universe couldn't be denied in this world.
Still, something about the place set my nerves on edge.
Maybe it was just paranoia after our encounters with Magneto and Animo, or maybe I was getting too used to seeing threats everywhere.
I shook my head, picking up my pace to catch up with the others. For once, maybe this would just be a normal family visit. No robots, no mutants, no aliens trying to steal the Omnitrix.
But as I stepped through Grandma Vera's doorway, the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right refused to leave me.
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The inside of Grandma Vera's house was like stepping into a time capsule from the 1970s. I wasn't a fan. It was full of floral wallpaper, framed cross-stitch quotes about family, and enough doilies to outfit a Victorian tea party.
But the smell? Pure heaven.
Roast chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and something sweet baking in the oven.
We gathered around a dining table covered in a crisp white tablecloth as Grandma Vera bustled around, placing steaming dishes in front of us.
"Here we go," she announced, plopping a mountain of mashed potatoes onto my plate. "Growing boys need their strength. And you," she turned to Gwen with a conspiratorial wink, "pretty girls need energy to chase bad boys!"
Gwen nearly choked on her water. "Grandma Vera!"
"What?" Vera feigned innocence. "At your age, I was already breaking hearts left and right. A beautiful young woman like you must have the boys lining up around the block."
Grandpa Max chuckled. "Leave her alone, Vera. Not everyone is the heartbreaker you were."
I nudged Gwen's foot under the table, leaning over to whisper, "Maybe the old lady's matchmaking instincts aren't totally off. You did seem pretty impressed by certain muscles yesterday."
Gwen's face went from pink to crimson in record time. She elbowed me sharply in the ribs, nearly causing me to spill my water.
"Shut it," she hissed through clenched teeth, her voice barely audible. "One more word and I swear I'll reprogram that watch to turn you into a slug permanently."
I smirked, enjoying her discomfort way too much. "Pretty sure you'd miss the tall, handsome four armed dude."
Her eyes widened in horror as she glanced quickly at our grandparents, who were thankfully engaged in their own conversation.
"I hate you," she whispered fiercely, but the blush spreading down her neck told a different story. "Screw you, Benjamin!"
"Me? Nah, I think you mean F- aw!" I tried, but her kick to my shin was too painful.
"Remember that time in Cairo?" Grandpa Max was saying, cutting into his chicken. "When those strange lights appeared over the pyramids?"
Vera chuckled. "Those weren't just lights, Max. And you know it."
"The tourists sure thought they were," Grandpa replied with a wink.
I perked up, suddenly paying attention. Cairo? Strange lights? This sounded suspiciously like Plumber business.
So Grandma Vera knows Grandpa's secret? Well, not that surprising. I considered what adventures they'd experienced before.
"Or that business in Roswell back in '78?" Vera continued, serving herself some green beans. "Now that was a close call."
"Too close," Grandpa agreed, his voice dropping slightly. "If we hadn't—" He caught himself, glancing at me and Gwen. "Well, ancient history now."
I exchanged a look with Gwen. She raised an eyebrow, silently acknowledging that we were both thinking the same thing. Grandpa and his sister definitely had some history we weren't privy to.
"Speaking of strange occurrences," Vera said casually, passing the gravy boat, "we've had some odd disturbances in the neighborhood lately."
"Oh?" Grandpa took a bite of mashed potatoes.
"Mmm. The Hendersons' cat won't go outside anymore – just sits at the window and hisses. And there have been weird noises at night. Like… some mechanical humming? Three families on Maple Street moved away suddenly last month. No explanation, just gone." Vera shrugged. "Probably nothing. Just retirement community gossip."
"Probably," Grandpa agreed, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
I sat up straighter, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. Mechanical humming? Sudden disappearances?
That didn't sound like nothing to me. I knew what happened in the original TV show, so I couldn't just ignore this. That sounded like the beginning of every alien invasion movie ever made.
But… it doesn't seem like Vera is an alien? The people outside also seemed normal. Is it somewhat different than the situation in the cartoon? I wondered.
Gwen kicked me under the table. When I looked over, she was giving me That Look. The one that said – 'I know exactly what you're thinking, and no, we're not going to investigate suspicious neighborhood activities.'
I grinned back at her, which only made her roll her eyes.
"Ben, would you like more chicken?" Vera asked, already moving to serve me another piece.
"Uh, sure. Thanks." I turned my attention back to my plate, but my mind was racing. Something weird was definitely going on in this picture-perfect neighborhood.
Then the conversation drifted to more mundane topics – Gwen college plans, my lack thereof, and Grandpa's stories about our road trip—carefully edited to remove any mention of alien transformations or battles with supervillains.
Tens of minutes later, as we finished up with slices of homemade apple pie, Vera clasped her hands together. "Ah, yes. You two should take some time to relax after your meal. I've got the basement filled with old family photos and memorabilia. Might be fun to look through." She wagged a finger playfully. "Just don't cause any trouble down there."
"We would never," I said with my most innocent smile.
"Hmm," she replied, clearly not buying it. "Max, I've got something to show you in the attic. Frank dropped off some of Father's old things."
"Lead the way," Grandpa said, rising from his chair.
As they disappeared up the stairs, their voices fading, Gwen immediately leaned across the table.
"Excuse me, mister. What's that look about?" she demanded in a hushed tone.
I glanced around the empty dining room before meeting her gaze. "I have a feeling something's not right here."
"Hello?? Last time I checked, you don't have premonition abilities," she scoffed. "I feel like you're just looking for trouble. This is a 'away from trouble' trip, you know?"
I shrugged, pushing back from the table. "Yes, and? It's my responsibility to make sure everyone's alright and safe."
"Oh my god. It's your ReSpoNsiBiLity?!" she mocked with a gasp, making a face that was probably supposed to be me, but she just turned out looking stupid.
I scowled at her. "Whatever, nerd. I'll go look around," I said, getting up.
Gwen sighed dramatically, leaning back into her chair. When I glanced back from the door, a playful smirk crossed her lips as she stood up and followed me.
"Hey…" I gave her a questioning look, and she shrugged.
"What? Your stupid aliens last only ten minutes. Someone's gotta protect your weakass in the meantime."
Even as she said it, her eyes shone with barely concealed excitement. She was as curious as me. Whatever was happening in this neighborhood, we were about to find out together. Starting with the basement.
I gotta remove the time limit some day. It was so risky, though. Unlike Ken Tennyson's little toy, made by future Ben, this was the real deal, made by Azmuth. Every time the original Ben tried to mess with the Omnitrix, it ended in disaster.
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