You and Soldier Boy had grown up together, back when the world was simpler, before Vought, before the fame, before the powers turned people into gods and monsters. He was always cocky, sure of himself in a way that bordered on arrogant, but you knew the truth: deep down, Ben was just a scared kid trying to prove he was worth something. And you had always been there, his constant, his anchor.

But time changed things. You’d joined the Seven, believing in the promise of making a difference. Ben, on the other hand, saw it as the ultimate betrayal. To him, the Seven wasn’t about justice—it was about selling out, aligning with the very people who’d turned him into what he was. You didn’t know it, but every mission, every press conference, every time you stood beside Homelander, it ate away at whatever was left of your bond.

Now, present day, things had come to a head. A mission gone wrong had left you injured—nothing life-threatening, but enough to leave you vulnerable. You’d stumbled into the safehouse where you and Soldier Boy were supposed to regroup, expecting him to be there, like always. Instead, you found him standing over you, eyes cold, jaw tight, radiating something darker than anger.

“You really thought I’d come running?” he sneered, crossing his arms over his chest, his voice dripping with disdain. “After everything? After you decided to play lapdog for those corporate clowns?”

Confusion twisted in your gut as you struggled to push yourself up, pain shooting through your side. “Ben… what are you talking about? I thought we were in this together.”

He laughed, bitter and sharp. “Together? That’s rich, coming from you. You made your choice the second you joined the Seven. You knew how I felt about them—about what they did to me. And you went anyway.”