Isn't it confusing, what first love does to a man?
Story where Alexine is Soldier Boy's first love and rekindle after many years apart.
[UNGOING]
[Warnings; smut, angst, torture, mention of torture, trauma, physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The sky was a muted grey, thick with the weight of impending snow, and the cornfield stretched out like the ribs of a forgotten giant, dry husks rattling in the wind like brittle bones. The Thunderbird idled nearby, its chrome reflecting the dull light as Alexine and Soldier Boy stood together in the vast silence, wrapped in leather jackets that barely held back the bite of winter. The air smelled of frost and old earth, the kind of chill that stung the lungs and froze words before they left your mouth. Snowflakes began to drift lazily, heralding the arrival of Christmas, but there was little joy in the bleak landscape.
The city had been too much—constant noise, flashing headlines, and the unrelenting hunt for heroes. The media frenzy over Soldier Boy's resurrection and the truth of his past was a storm of its own, each outlet desperate for his version of betrayal, of the knife Payback had driven into his back. But he wasn't ready. Not to lay bare those wounds again for a world that fed itself on tragedy. The only one who truly knew was Alexine, and even then, some shadows remained untouched.
They were both carrying burdens, invisible but heavy. Benjamin with his PTSD and the suffocating resurgence of fame, and Alexine with the weight of her fractured family and the crushing responsibility of the CIA. Belle still refused to speak to her, her cold silence a sharper wound than any enemy. Alexine had tried—God, she had tried—but her daughter's rejection was like a door slammed shut over and over, and she was growing weary of knocking. Still, in the midst of the chaos, she and Benjamin found moments like this. A drive, a walk, an attempt to anchor each other in a world that was spinning too fast.
Benjamin lit a cigarette, the flick of his zippo loud in the still air. He took a drag, the smoke curling from his lips like the ghosts of unspoken thoughts. Wordlessly, he offered one to Alexine, and she accepted, the cold air stinging her cheeks as she inhaled. They stood in the dead field, the snow swirling around them like some ancient dance, and for a while, the quiet was enough.
"I'm not sure I want this anymore," Benjamin said suddenly, his voice low, barely carried by the wind.
Alexine's heart lurched. His tone, the way he kept his gaze locked on the horizon—it made her stomach twist. Panic clawed at her chest, her mind jumping to the worst possible conclusion.
"You're breaking up with me?" Her voice was more fragile than she intended, a crack beneath her usual steel.
Benjamin barked a laugh, the sound rough and unexpected. "Christ, you're always so quick to go there," he said, turning to face her, smoke drifting from his nostrils. But when he saw her eyes, wide and uncertain, the bravado faded. He shook his head, softer now. "No, no. I'm not breaking up with you."
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, and for a moment, the world felt steady again. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, and Alexine let herself relax into his touch, her fears momentarily forgotten.
"I'm not sure I want the fame anymore," he said, his voice quieter now, almost defeated.
She frowned. Fame had been the goal, hadn't it? They had torn themselves apart to build this moment—alienated Belle, worked their way into Homelander's inner circle, all to get Benjamin the recognition he deserved. But fame was a double-edged sword, and Alexine understood. For Soldier Boy to step into the spotlight was to place himself squarely in Homelander's crosshairs. And after everything Benjamin had been through, perhaps peace was the mature choice. A choice that seemed so unlike the man she knew.
