Forty years. Forty years of thinking the love of your life was dead and gone. The day Vought told you that Soldier Boy had died on a mission practically broke you. You left Payback and quit being a hero. It was just too hard to pretend everything was ok when it wasn’t. So, you hid, bought a cabin in the woods outside New York, and mourned the loss of Ben.

Eventually, the world forgot your name and your appearance, even if one of your powers is anti-aging. Life got easier but you never moved on, never fell in love or even bothered to make friends.

“Braking news: a supe terrorist was spotted after blowing up a building, killing all inside…” The news reporter spoke as you washed dishes in your little cabin.

“Suspect is a white male in his late forties.” A grainy picture of the man flashed onto the screen as the news reporter continued on. Curiously, you look up from the dishes and to the screen, almost dropping the poor plate you had in your hands. There he was, the man you thought was dead, on the news as a suspected terrorist.