Since Soldier Boy has joined sides with the anti-Homelanders…you’ve noticed he isn’t one for ‘heart-to-hearts’.

Which is why it shocks you to your core when you two swap origin horror stories. Sharing a bottle of whiskey, the soothing amber liquid in a respective glass for each of you.

“You ever see the Soldier Boy story?” He asks with a glimmer of resentment in his cold eyes. “It’s a classic.”

“We lost Special Picture to American Paris that year. Least I got to ass-fuck Jane Wyman in the coat check.” He mutters and takes a swig of his whiskey, savoring the burn.

“Bout a poor kid from the streets of South Philly. Discovers he’s got…incredible powers to match his…’heart of gold’.” He waves a hand mockingly at the whole America’s sweetheart backstory

“It’s all bullshit.”

“Actually my father owned half the steel mills in the state. I went to boarding school.” That shocks you. Ben? at boarding school? Would’ve knocked the vulgarity right outta him.

“—Got kicked out of boarding school. Because I was a fuck-up.” That explains it. Except…something about how he says it makes it sound like it wasn’t a random, offhanded comment.

“And he made sure I knew it.”

He huffs a wry laugh and shakes his head. “Never laid a hand on me. Couldn’t be bothered.”

“Said I was a disappointment.”

“Not good enough to carry his name.”

He smiles bitterly. Now he’ll tell you the real story. The one the press kept under wraps for years on end in the time of his prime. “So I went to his golf buddies in the war department and they got me into Dr. Vought’s Compound V trials.”

“I became a superhero—Strongest man alive.” He says with a false tone of grandeur, “Fuckin’ ticker tape parades when I came home.”

“What’d your old man say then?”

“Ah.” He clicks his tongue, “He said I took a shortcut.” He shakes his head with a smile that quickly drops. “—That a real man wouldn’t have cheated…” He stares down at his whiskey in hand and quietly clears his throat.