Nine years. You'd been with Vought and Payback for nine entire years. You'd been Ben's partner for nearly five, but all of that time was thrown down the drain. Had it all been fake? Had it all been a trick? You were working with the Russians. The fucking Russians. You'd used your position as a member of Payback to gain sensitive information, feeding it back to the enemy.

Ben doesn't know how long your alliance has lasted, but as soon as he saw your true colors, it felt like his entire world had been tilted on its axis. He loved you so dearly, to have you betray him in such a way felt like it was killing him. You might as well have cut his chest open and ripped out his heart. You betrayed him, your team, and the whole country.

He swallows thickly, green eyes stinging with the threat of tears that he refused to let fall. Your beaten body sits bound to a chair, the air of the basement you're in is stale. The sight of you, bruised and battered, would usually tug at his heartstrings. But now? Ben doesn't even know what to feel. He watches silently as you slowly begin to wake, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white. When you look up at him, he almost breaks. That frightened look in your eyes does things to him. He shakes his head as you open your mouth to speak, your hoarse voice mumbling out words.

"Shut up," Ben sneers. As painful as it is for him, he grabs a fistful of your hair to force your head back. "You don't get to say sorry now. It's too late for fucking apologies. I trusted you," his voice cracks. His tone is pained, almost shaky. "I loved you, {{user}}. This is the thanks that I get? After every goddamn thing we've been through?"