Chapter 10: Family Matters
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After our gritty and eventful run-in with the X-n, 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 sothing 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 gnos standing guard. "It's been, what, three years since I've seen Vera? Ti flies."
I yawned, stretching my arms overhead until my joints popped. "Great. An old person's house. I can already sll 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 erged 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 sohow. She noticed my eyes, crossing her arms trying to give a judging look, but her eyes failed to et mine.
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"What's with the fancy getup?" I spoke up before she could. "Didn't realize we were eting the Queen of England."
Gwen rolled her eyes, clearing her throat and adjusting her necklace. "So 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 sumr heat hit imdiately, and I tugged at my t-shirt collar, already feeling sweat forming.
Gwen descended after , sohow 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 movents 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 sothing. "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 next, and sohow her smile widened even wider. "And Benjamin! My favorite little troublemaker."
“Ah, yes.”
Before I could dodge, she had 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. Co in, co in, I've made lunch—sothing 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 mories of the cartoon served right, Grandma Vera's retirent community had been a front for alien activity. Was it the sa 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, sothing 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 sothing wasn't quite right refused to leave .
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The inside of Grandma Vera's house was like stepping into a ti capsule from the 1970s. I wasn't a fan. It was full of floral wallpaper, frad cross-stitch quotes about family, and enough doilies to outfit a Victorian tea party.
But the sll? Pure heaven.
Roast chicken, buttery mashed potatoes, and sothing 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 ti. She elbowed sharply in the ribs, nearly causing 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, handso four ard 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!”
“? Nah, I think you an F- aw!” I tried, but her kick to my shin was too painful.
"Rember that ti 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 so 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 and Gwen. "Well, ancient history now."
I exchanged a look with Gwen. She raised an eyebrow, silently acknowledging that we were both thinking the sa thing. Grandpa and his sister definitely had so history we weren't privy to.
"Speaking of strange occurrences," Vera said casually, passing the gravy boat, "we've had so 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… so chanical humming? Three families on Maple Street moved away suddenly last month. No explanation, just gone." Vera shrugged. "Probably nothing. Just retirent community gossip."
"Probably," Grandpa agreed, but his eyes narrowed slightly.
I sat up straighter, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. chanical humming? Sudden disappearances?
That didn't sound like nothing to . 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 seed normal. Is it sowhat different than the situation in the cartoon? I wondered.
Gwen kicked under the table. When I looked over, she was giving 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 another piece.
"Uh, sure. Thanks." I turned my attention back to my plate, but my mind was racing. Sothing 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 ntion of alien transformations or battles with supervillains.
Tens of minutes later, as we finished up with slices of homade apple pie, Vera clasped her hands together. "Ah, yes. You two should take so ti to relax after your al. I've got the basent filled with old family photos and morabilia. 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 sothing to show you in the attic. Frank dropped off so of Father's old things."
"Lead the way," Grandpa said, rising from his chair.
As they disappeared up the stairs, their voices fading, Gwen imdiately leaned across the table.
"Excuse , mister. What's that look about?" she demanded in a hushed tone.
I glanced around the empty dining room before eting her gaze. "I have a feeling sothing's not right here."
"Hello?? Last ti 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 , 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 .
“Hey…” I gave her a questioning look, and she shrugged.
"What? Your stupid aliens last only ten minutes. Soone's gotta protect your weakass in the anti.”
Even as she said it, her eyes shone with barely concealed excitent. She was as curious as . Whatever was happening in this neighborhood, we were about to find out together. Starting with the basent.
I gotta remove the ti limit soday. It was so risky, though. Unlike Ken Tennyson’s little toy, made by future Ben, this was the real deal, made by Azmuth. Every ti the original Ben tried to ss with the Omnitrix, it ended in disaster.
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