#max tennyson is a liar and a backstabbing loser

[dessam]

A little pre-Weapon XI AU thing centered around the retelling of how Devin died and the half-truths Max likes to spin.

Warnings for violence, blood mention, and backstabbing

Or: if two Plumbers were on a mission escaping a heliokinetic psychopath and one shot the other in the back would that be fucked up or what?

The universe always seemed to get the last laugh in, no matter what Devin was doing.

“Max, he’s getting closer!” 

Whether it was trying to make breakfast only to realize he didn’t have any eggs, or attempting to stop a galactic warlord from consuming stars on the weekend, he was always somehow the butt of a sick joke. 

This joke’s name was Ragnarok, and Devin wanted nothing more than to wash his hands of the monster. He’d also like to wash his hands of the stupid, stupid man in the co-pilot’s seat next to him.

“Ship won’t go any faster, Devin!” Max hollers back.

Rolling his eyes, Devin mutters under his breath: “Have you tried flapping your arms?”

His current partner - a certain Magister Maxwell Tennyson - seems to find the whole bit some sort of joke, and was laughing through their last narrow escape from Ragnarok. Tennyson isn’t at all perturbed by the villain rapidly gaining on them, and a little voice in the back of Devin’s mind pipes up to remind him: you can’t trust a single one of them, not even your partner.

Which, obviously, was a lesson he had known long before he became a Red Spot, but was now a mantra he spoke every single time an incident like this happened. 

Of all the bloody people to be partnered with, Maxwell Tennyson was a name at the bottom of a long, long list of Plumbers that--

“You with me?”

A voice cuts through Devin’s thoughts, and his partner is looking at him from the corner of his eye, grinning.

“What?” He says shortly, on edge.

“I said: Ragnarok really wants what we took, huh?”

Devin bites his tongue, resists the urge to snarl back that it’s his fault they’re in this bloody mess, that they had the element of stealth right until Max had to blunder their escape and alert every being with working cochlear nerves they were onboard Ragnarok’s ship. 

“We couldn’t let him slaughter six billion people just to get his hands on the Sun’s energy,” he says instead, shooting Max a mocking grin. “Not my fault he didn’t like you stealing the key that activated his energy vortex. You’re welcome, by the way, for me bailing you out of there.”

Max’s expression falls immediately, eyes snapping forward and hands tensing on the ship’s controls, all comradery gone. Devin’s partner was never very good at saying thank you.

CRACK

Lurching in his seat with a grunt, the bulkhead rattles around Devin as the nav system sputters and whines before fading, and he watches with dread as glowing instruments suddenly wink out one by one, the ship going dark. 

Next to him, frantically flicking switches and checking the backup system as it flashes a warning red, Max looks at Devin with wide eyes.

“Blast took out our engine couplings, our shields...we’re dead in space.”

Oh so slowly, a shadow overtakes them, plunging their vessel into darkness. 

Swallowing hard, Devin tests the controls, tries to think of their fastest way out of here, all while Max just stares dumbfounded up at the massive ship overtaking them. 

There’s a hissing vhmm from the rear door, and Devin glances back as the massive form of Ragnarok materializes in a blue haze onto their ship. 

Red eyes boring into his own, the warlord sneers at the two Plumbers, back straightened and fists clenched at his sides. 

“Where did you hide my key?” He speaks in a low snarl, lip curling back to reveal ugly yellowed teeth.

Devin shares a short look with Max, sees the gears turning in his partner’s brain.

Fuck this, he decides. 

Standing and drawing both of his blasters, Devin unloads shot after shot at the ship’s newest arrival, and the human next to him takes just a moment longer before standing and unloading the clip of his weapon at Ragnarok just the same. 

Ragnarok seems unperturbed, smoke clearing as the plasmabolts fizzle out, not a scratch on him. Devin growls, lunging behind cover with Max just as a vibrant yellow blast from Ragnarok takes out their ship’s main console with a resounding BOOM!

The blue halogen lights of the backup systems flicker before maintaining, secondary life support still online and running smoothly. 

It does little to calm Devin’s nerves as he presses his back to the offhand weapon’s console, and glances to Max at his side. 

His partner looks pale, staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched and right hand clutching his blaster. Devin watches him reload the clip in one movement without looking, recognizing the confirmed remaining charge of the weapon: seventy-three percent, glowing in luminous green. 

“I’m going to go for the Null Void projector,” he grips Max’s arm for a moment, forcing the human to look at him. “Cover me, understand?”

“Devin, wait--”

But he’s already up, sprinting towards the main weapon rack on the far wall, ducking under another blast from Ragnarok that singes the hair on the back of his neck. Behind him, he can hear Max swear something in terran before more plasmabolts are fired off, and Ragnarok roars in frustration. 

Devin slams his hand on the access panel, snatches the mobile Null Void projector from its rack just as another blast nearly takes him out, the explosion throwing him back against the port window and sending the Null Void projector clattering into the corner. 

“Devin!” Max hollars, lunging out from behind cover and sending another round of bolts at Ragnarok. 

The heliokinetic monster is grinning now, yellow energy glowing in his palms as he slowly stalks towards Max, and Devin has a split second to think before he focuses on an exposed electrical panel inches away.

Bingo. 

Yanking a glove off with his teeth, he grabs one of the loose wires as he stands and lets the raw energy pulse through his body, instantly feeling woozy. 

He only needs a short charge - thirty-five hundred watts should be enough - and the electricity extends from the fingertips of his left hand to the fingertips to his right hand, gathering at his wrist. Devin narrows his eyes, focuses, and fires.

A sharp blast of energy sparks off, lancing out to strike Ragnarok square in the back. 

He screams, sinks to one knee, and Devin grins in triumph, dropping the wire. 

The heavy smell of ozone hangs in the cockpit, and he tries to shake off the last jitters of electricity sparking off his hands before snatching the Null Void projector off the floor, levelling it at Ragnarok’s torso.

“Any last words?” He asks, unable to help the smug smile that crosses his face.

“You will know true suffering, Osmosian,” Ragnarok spits, pupils dots in a sea of dark red and yellow as he stares unblinking back at Devin. “This isn’t over, none of it. As long as you’re alive--”

Devin scoffs, flicks the trigger, and Ragnarok’s words turn to an enraged scream as he’s sucked backwards through the warped portal of the Null Void.

“Blah blah blah, you'll rue the day, et cetera. I’ve heard it all before.” Devin grins, sheathing the Null Void projector and inspecting the dark smear where Ragnarok once stood. 

He can hear his partner stand, and turns to double-check their nav system.

“Computers will need a reboot, but we should still be able to get a signal out for pickup. Could be worse, I suppose.” He sighs, drags a hand down his face, feels the start of a migraine coming on. “Not a bad shot, eh Max--?”

POW!

Blindingly white-hot pain overtakes him as he hears the sound of a blaster go off. Staggering, falling to one knee, hysteria instantly grips Devin’s mind. 

I’ve been shot. Max shot me.

His thoughts are confirmed as he collapses onto his side, glancing up blearily at the shape of his partner, silhouetted by the ship’s overhead lights. 

“I’m sorry, Devin, I’m so sorry. I had my orders.” Max rasps out, crouching beside him, taking one of his hands in his own.

Devin almost wants to laugh, or scream. To tell Max he’s a brainwashed idiot, that things didn’t have to be like this, that he could’ve found another way. Really, he doesn’t even know why he’s surprised at this point.

“Orders, eh?” He chokes out, tasting copper. “So Ragnarok was a distraction, to get me to slip up?”

Max shakes his head, squeezes Devin’s hand.

“No. Ragnarok was...he was supposed to finish you off back on his ship, quick and clean. But if you want something done right…Devin, I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know,” Devin gasps, agony shooting through his body with each syllable. “Max just, please, promise me one thing.”

His partner squeezes his hand a little tighter, nodding.

“Tell my wife and son I love them.”

Any compassion drains from Max’s face, taken over by horror and dawning realization. 

“Your what.”

Devin grins, finally knowing he got the last laugh in. Fuck you, universe.

#max tennyson is a liar and a backstabbing loser #ain't that just the way #there's more to come #ben 10 #Weapon XI AU #writing #fanfiction #my writing #devin levin #max tennyson #maxwell tennyson #blood mention #violence #murder