Chapter Text
The ceiling doesn’t come down all at once.
It fractures—hairline cracks spidering outward, metal screaming as it twists under its own weight. Ben barely has time to register the sound before a hand slams into his chest.
The shove sends Ben stumbling back just as the support beam gives out. Concrete and steel crash down in a roar that shakes the ground hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.
Ben hits the floor, vision blurring. For a second, there’s nothing but ringing and dust.
Then—
“Man,” a voice says faintly, “you gotta stop standin` where things explode.”
Ben coughs, sucking in air that tastes like grit. “Kevin?”
“That was fast,” Kevin mutters. “Didn’t even bite back first.”
Ben scrambles upright, ignoring the way his shoulder screams in protest. He slaps the watch on instinct.
Nothing.
He slaps it again. Still nothing.
“…Glitched out,” Ben whispers.
Of course it is.
Ben follows the sound, heart pounding harder with every step. The dust thins just enough for him to see Kevin.
He stops short.
A massive slab of collapsed ceiling has fallen across Kevin’s midsection and one leg, pinning him to the ground. Twisted rebar juts out around him like broken ribs. The older teen`s arm is stretched out toward him, fingers slack against the dust.
Blood is soaking into the ground beneath him.
Ben’s heart stutters.
“Okay,” Ben says quickly, dropping to his knees. “Okay, I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Kevin grins weakly. “Man, you look terrible. You should really moisturize.”
“Don’t joke,” Ben says. “Please don’t joke.”
Kevin’s smile flickers—but he keeps it. “Relax. Been in worse positions.”
Ben waits for it. For the familiar shimmer of borrowed strength.
For stone skin, metal plating-
anything.
Nothing happens.
Ben’s hands hover uselessly over the concrete, as if touching it might somehow make it lighter. He braces his feet and pushes.
The slab doesn’t move.
“Okay,” Ben says, voice tight. “Okay. That’s fine. We’ll—uh—we’ll figure something out.”
Kevin’s breathing is shallow. His eyes drift, struggling to focus on Ben’s face.
“You always say that,” Kevin murmurs. “Then you turn into somethin` big enough and punch it.”
Ben doesn’t say anything as he stares at the static watch. He just sits back on his heels, heart thudding, and keeps his voice steady.
“Gwen’ll find us,” he says. “She’s probably already yelling my name.”
Kevin hums faintly. “Yeah…She’s good like that.”
Time stretches. Dust keeps drifting down in slow, lazy spirals.
Ben keeps talking. He talks about how the mission went sideways, about how the Plumbers are going to owe them hazard pay, about how Gwen’s definitely going to say I told you so at least five times.
Kevin responds, mostly. A word. A breathy chuckle. A crooked smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Ben notices how the elder`s fingers twitch against the ground. How his grip on Ben’s wrist loosens, then tightens again like he’s afraid to let go.
“You’re doin` that thing, you know,” Kevin says quietly.
“What thing?”
“Left eye`s twitchin` with that fake-calm hero voice,” Kevin murmurs.
Ben almost denies it.
Almost.
Instead he says, “You’re still talking. That’s good.”
Kevin smirks weakly. “Wow….Settin` the bar real low.”
Ben watches Kevin’s chest rise and fall and thinks—unbidden—about when he was a kid, staring up at Kevin Levin like he was the source of his nightmares.
And now, he is fearing for his life.
Kevin shifts slightly and gasps, head falling back against the concrete. His hand twitches in Ben’s grip.
“Kev,” Ben says quietly. “Talk to me.”
The bleeding teen blinks, focusing with effort. “Bossy.”
“You can insult me when we’re out,” Ben says. “Deal?”
Kevin’s lips twitch. “Deal.”
Another minute passes. Maybe two.
“You know….My dad…” Kevin murmurs suddenly.
Ben leans in. “What about him?”
“He protected Max-” Kevin says. His voice is thin now, like it might tear. “Took…the hit. Didn’t make it.”
Ben’s throat tightens.
”… maybe that’s how it goes. Levin…. looks out for a…Tennyson…”
“No,” Ben says immediately. “You don’t get to decide that.”
Kevin smiles faintly. “You always hated fate.”
“I hate losing people,” Ben says.
Kevin’s fingers slacken in his hand.
“Kevin?” Ben says, fear finally breaking through his voice. “Kev—don’t—”
Kevin’s eyes are closed.
Heroes aren’t supposed to be protected. They’re supposed to do the protecting. No sacrifices should be-
“BEN!” Gwen’s voice cuts through the dust.
“HE`S HERE!” Ben shouts. “He’s pinned—he’s—”
Gwen’s already moving, magic tearing the debris away as paramedics rush in.
When the slab is finally gone, Kevin doesn’t stir.
Ben doesn’t stop holding his hand until someone gently tells him he has to.