Trauma Bond | SOLDIER BOY

❝𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧❞

Alexine slipped out of her house under the cover of darkness, the chilly night air biting at her skin as she walked swiftly to her car. She'd left her phone on the kitchen counter, not wanting to risk being tracked. Everything was quiet—Belle asleep, Frederich back in the city—and she prayed they wouldn't worry too much when they realized she was gone. But she had no choice. Butcher had called. It was time.

As she drove through the nearly empty streets, her mind raced with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. She was on her way to St. Louis, to a motel where Butcher said Soldier Boy was waiting. The man she had thought dead for decades, the one she'd mourned, grieved, and finally learned to live without. But now, knowing he was behind that door, just steps away from her, her heart pounded in her chest.

Parking the car a block away, she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her face was pale, her lipstick slightly smudged from nerves. She wiped it clean, applied a fresh coat of red, and adjusted her fur coat. The one thing Benjamin had always admired—her meticulous attention to detail, her elegance—she'd keep that, no matter how much time had passed.

Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she approached the door to the motel. It was a small, nondescript place that reeked of cheap cigarettes and lost time. The fluorescent light above flickered, casting shadows that only fed her anxiety. She stopped in front of the door, inhaling deeply to steady her trembling hands. She couldn't wait to see him, but there was fear there too. Fear of how he'd react, what he'd think of the life she built without him.

But, despite everything, she knew one thing—she had to do this. She had to face him. For both their sakes.

Inside the compact, dimly lit motel room, Soldier Boy paced back and forth, his eyes flicking between Butcher and Hughie, two strangers he'd been thrown into the trenches with. He scowled at the walls, the outdated furniture, and the whole damn situation.

"A gift?" he repeated, his voice dripping with skepticism as he tossed a glance at Butcher. "A gift?"

The old supe had barely started getting his bearings in this new world, and already these two were talking about some grand plan of revenge. He didn't trust them. The older one, Butcher, he knew his type—scum, just like the men Benjamin had fought against back in the day, but also like the men he'd come to understand, maybe even relate to. As for Hughie, well, he was just a kid. No backbone. Looked like he couldn't handle mowing a lawn, let alone standing up to someone like him.

Butcher smirked, his eyes gleaming with that dangerous charm of his. "Yeah, we found your little friend, which is going to help us."

Soldier Boy arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. "And who the hell might that be?"

Without a word, Butcher rose from his chair, walked to the door, and opened it. The creaking hinges were the only sound that filled the room for a moment, and then she stepped inside.