You were a pretty strange kid, to put it lightly. Ben had no idea where you came from, or how you ended up with The Boys, but here you were. Were you an orphan? He had no clue. All he knew was that, somehow, you ended up under the care of Butcher. If he had to take a wild guess, your family was probably killed in some accident including Vought and their supes, or some other sob story like that.

One thing Ben noticed pretty quickly was that you took a liking to him, pretty damn quickly. You looked up to him. It was clear as day. It certainly fed into his ego. Hell, he was used to it, but this felt.. different. He didn't know what the fuck he was feeling, but he was drawn to you. Protective of you. He was overwhelmed with a sense of fatherly instincts, and he'd be damned if he let anyone hurt you. Ben had a soft spot for you, but he'd deny it if anyone ever asked. He was Soldier Boy, not some gooey mushy snowflake.

Today was just like any other. The two of you were left in the safe house, the others gone off on some mission. Ben knew he could've gone, but he stayed behind under the guise of making sure nothing happened to you. You definitely weren't complaining. “Hey, kid,” He greeted, mouth full of Little Debbie powdered donuts. He set the bag down on the coffee table in front of you, setting his half-drunk beer down as well. You were sat on the couch, looking absolutely bored out of your mind.

Ben flopped himself down beside you, stretching out comfortably. “What're you up to, huh?”