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zepskies · 2 years ago

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Break Me Down - Part 12

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,700

Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst central, a touch of PTSD, and a surprise ending…

Part 12: All Your Wicked Ways

Something was wrong.

It was a gut instinct, but yours was far too often right.

Ben had been sleeping for a long time. After he’d fallen asleep yesterday, you did shortly after from the combination of fatigue, pain from your broken ribs, and the painkillers in your system.

But even after your keepers had woken you with a tray of food, Ben still hadn’t woken up.

“Ben?” you tried calling to him, but he didn’t rouse from where he laid in his cot, one arm pillowed behind his head and the other across his stomach.

You got up, your pain making you slow as you made sounds of struggle.

You went to the large window and supported yourself with your hands on the glass. You called his name again, louder.

His face scrunched a little, but your voice couldn’t penetrate the Novichok haze—the poison being pumped into his cell to dull his senses and keep him too drowsy to function.

You paused as you heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. It turned out to be several, in fact, as a team of Vought security guards came to your cell.

“What’s going on?” you asked. No one answered you as they grabbed and handcuffed you with your arms in front of you. You struggled, but you didn’t have the strength or energy to give much of a fight.

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber.

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted. Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you.

“Where?”

“To a lab with better security.”

“Why? Where’s my father? I know that bastard’s still alive,” you demanded, but it seemed you weren’t interesting enough for the doctor.

You spied her last name, Baker, embroidered above the breast pocket her lab coat. You finally recognized Dr. Tonya Baker; you hadn’t worked with her much during your time at Vought, but you knew her by reputation.

Your heart fell into your stomach.

You struggled against the stern grip of the guard holding you and shouted, “Ben, wake up!”

Between your voice and the commotion outside his door, he started to rouse.

“Get her out of here,” said Dr. Baker.

Your guards tried to drag you, but you dug your heels in and made it as difficult as possible. Meanwhile, Ben could hear you—when you called his name and now, while you were struggling. He finally drew enough energy and strength to open his eyes and sit up in the cot.

Once he saw you being manhandled against your will, his fury sparked.

“Hey!” he barked. He managed to rise off his cot and draw himself to his feet. The first door of his cell slid open for the guards in their hazmat suits. Once that closed, the second one disengaged, and they came pouring in.

Ben fought them. He managed to punch the first one into the far wall, shaking the fortified glass. He snapped the second man’s neck and broke a leg on the third, but they just kept coming in batches of three or four. The room was misty as hell, slowing Ben’s stamina, and he gritted his teeth in frustration.

Their strength was in numbers, and gradually, they were able to latch onto his arms, kick behind his knees to bring him down to the ground.

He saw the mask coming towards his face, and the well of panic, hearing your distressed yelling of his name—it gave him the strength to break the chain of men holding him down.

That’s when he noticed the star bolts zipping outside his cell.

You were still fighting against the guard’s hold. You ripped back his sleeve and bit into the man’s wrist, eliciting a yell of pain. His grip eased up enough for you to steal his secondary gun on his belt, and despite your cuffed wrists, you shot him in the leg twice to bring him down.

You raised the gun at your next attacker—Frenchie, who raised up his hands in friendly surrender.

“Cherie! It’s surprising to see you alive,” he said. You grinned.

“A good surprise?” you asked, and you shot another guard approaching from behind him.

Frenchie flinched slightly, but after he watched the man fall to the ground, screaming and clutching between his legs, Frenchie’s lips raised in a more genuine smile.

“Yes, I think so,” he teased.

You looked past him and watched as Kimiko, M.M., Annie, Hughie, and Butcher took out the rest of the guards. You didn’t see Dr. Baker anywhere; in all likelihood, she’d fled the scene when she saw her opportunity.

Ben still remained in his cell, and you went to the glass window. He looked all right as he met your gaze, but there were about ten bodies lying around him. His face was firm and assessing. Still, you read the uncertainty behind it.

You sighed and turned to your team. “Hey, guys. Good to see you.”

Annie went to you first, grasping your shoulders. Her large eyes peered into yours.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Well, more or less,” was your weary reply. Your ribs were throbbing, but you raised your cuffed hands. “Think you can help me with these?”

Annie raised a hand over your cuffs and concentrated her powers into melting them, just enough for Kimiko to strike through them. You slid off the remaining metal pieces and rubbed your stinging wrists.

“All right, let’s get a fucking move on,” said Butcher.

“Hello to you too,” you replied, raising a brow.

“Oh, just you wait. You’ve got plenty of fucking explaining to do,” he said, leveling a finger at you. He slid it over to Ben, who watched him right back.

“Ello, gov.” Butcher smirked. “Look at you, all gift-wrapped for us.”

He turned to M.M., who approached with an especially terrifying-looking gas mask. Your eyes widened.

“Ready?” Butcher asked him.

“Ready to knock this motherfucker out and bring him into custody,” M.M. grimly agreed.

“Wait,” you said, stepping past Annie to get between M.M. and Butcher.

With your back to the glass, you didn’t see how Ben’s eyes followed you. They hid a thread of uncertainty. He had a feeling you might do this, but he didn’t know what to expect from your team.

“It doesn’t have to go down like this,” you told them. “He took out Homelander. He could help us bring down Vought. This fucking tower, the whole thing.”

“Is that why you ran at the airport?” M.M. asked. Then he shook his head. “Never mind. We don’t have time to debate this.”

You held out a halting hand. “Look, clearly they're not done making supes if they brought back a new and improved Black Noir. Now they’re selling V24 to the military. They need to be stopped, and with our help, Ben could do it.”

“Oh, it’s Ben now, is it?” Butcher stared at you shrewdly, then at Ben himself. The latter just tilted his head, his mouth quirking with an edge of cockiness.

Butcher raised a brow. His gaze returned to you, noting the way you stood your ground, but pursed your lips. You were hiding something…a guilty conscience, perhaps.

“Bloody hell. You two’ve been fucking,” he realized.

Shocked silence spread through the rest of the team.

Your embarrassment radiated off your flushing cheeks, and it took everything within you to resist looking back at Ben. You didn’t want to see what kind of expression he wore, but you could guess.

“No,” Annie regarded you with shock.

“Seriously?” Hughie remarked in a high voice.

“That’s…well, that’s none of your goddamn business, is it?” you tried to be stern, but your embarrassed shuffling made it lose some of its effect.

Kimiko shared raised brows with Frenchie, who just looked amused. M.M., on the other hand, grimaced with disgust. That actually stung, but you crossed your arms. You didn’t have a good answer for them. Not one you wanted to say in front of Ben, anyway.

“I think we can come to an agreement here,” Ben said at last.

You turned around, and he gained the attention of the others as well. He briefly met your gaze before he shifted to Butcher.

“Worked for us once, before you tried to double-cross me,” Ben said.

“You want to take out Vought.” Butcher glanced at their surroundings, specifically Ben’s cell. He gave a snort of amusement. “I could understand that.”

“Butcher,” M.M. said sharply.

“We–we should probably get out of here now,” Hughie pointed out. He looked back down the hall nervously. You agreed with him; any moment now, more guards could be coming.

“Think about it,” said Ben. “The only way you’re getting that mask on me is with a fight. One you’ll probably lose, fucking miserably. We can have the same deal as before, no strings. Until Stan Edgar and Noir are dead.”

It took Butcher all of seconds.

He turned to Frenchie and said, “Open her up.”

“Butcher, what the fuck!” M.M. argued.

“What do you fucking want from me, eh? Their special ops security will be all over us soon,” Butcher said.

But he shared a meaningful look with the other man that you didn’t miss. It sparked your suspicion.

You stepped back as the first door unlocked after Frenchie hacked the commands. Then the gas misting up the cell receded.

There was an immediate reaction from Ben. He blinked in relief as he started to breathe easy. The brain fog making it almost impossible for him to stay alert slowly ebbed.

He took one step into the hall before it happened—all in a rush, but not unexpected. He blocked M.M.’s punch and tossed him across the hall.

Someone jumped on his back. He heard you shout, but before he could rip off the hanger on, Kimiko slipped the mask over his face and deployed a heavy dose of nerve gas. It was enough to drop him to his knees as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Lights out.

On the way to Supe Affairs, you weren’t happy, but there wasn’t much you could do.

You were still in your Vought-issued gray pajamas, bare footed as you rode along with your friends in Frenchie’s van. In the very back was the haul of Ben, laid to rest in a chamber keeping him sedated.

You had to explain to the rest of them that your father, Jonathan, was Stan Edgar’s Chief of Security. You were a cog in Vought’s wheel once upon a time, but joining the S.A. helped you escape. Ben offered you a way to achieve what you couldn’t at the S.A.—taking it all down.

Still, M.M. looked at you like he didn’t even know you.

“How do you explain fucking him?” he asked.

You shot him a tight frown.

“First of all, none of you know what the hell I went through,” you said. “At first, I was just trying to learn how to read him. How to survive and somehow get back home.”

Emotion clogged in your throat when you thought of seeing your sister again soon, and your mom. You thought of all you had gone through in past two months, and knew that it had changed you…

For better or worse, you didn’t yet know for sure.

“But for all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben,” you said, looking up at your team. You thought they had become your friends…but you supposed you would see.

“Why else would he save me?” you said.

They didn’t answer. You turned your head to Annie, but even she didn’t look convinced. Though you could see she wanted to be on your side, it was difficult for her to reconcile her own feelings about Soldier Boy. You certainly understood that.

“He’s too powerful to kill,” you also pointed out. “Putting him to sleep like this will just make it worse when he wakes up…but if he’s properly motivated, he could do some good.”

“Or off anyone who looks at him sideways,” Butcher wryly replied. “He’s dickmatized you, love.”

You could tell the others sided with him on this.

“You can disagree with me,” you said, “but do you have a better way to kill Noir and take down Vought?”

At the S.A., you were able to shower and get on proper clothes in a black tracksuit and some sneakers. You weren’t allowed to find out where they’d taken Ben yet, but Grace Mallory oversaw the transport, just as she called you into her office for your immediate debriefing.

It felt more like an interrogation, not unlike the one you underwent to be recruited for the manhunt of Soldier Boy.

You felt like a different person sitting across from her. This time you sat up tall, not intimidated by the ice blue stare that greeted you. The lines in the older woman’s face were drawn, but there was an unyielding wall within the woman that you could admire.

It just didn’t change the fact that right now, she was your opponent. And the chess game had begun.

“You went way off-road with this assignment,” she said at last. You raised a brow.

“I’m sorry my kidnapping inconvenienced you,” you remarked.

“Don’t be cute. You know what the hell I’m talking about,” Grace said. “At this point, I’m debating whether to bring you into custody along with Soldier Boy.”

“I’m the one who got him back to the States,” you pointed out, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed. “I had to get in contact with my father to make that happen. Do you know what that cost me?”

You resisted an uncomfortable shudder. They’d given you more painkillers for your ribs, but it wasn’t enough the relieve the damage of that encounter. Not to your mind.

“Aside from any other self-debasing tactics I used in order to do my job, not to mention save my own life. Without me, and the sacrifices I made, Soldier Boy wouldn’t be in a cell downstairs,” you finished.

Saying those words stung. Like you were somehow betraying yourself.

“That doesn’t fool me,” Grace said. In fact, her shrewd gaze was much like Butcher’s. It saw straight through you as she tilted her head in wonder. “You care about him.”

Your lips tightened.

After a moment, you answered.

“He was tortured for forty years,” you said. “Whether he admits it or not, he’s got scars just like the rest of us…but more importantly to you, he can help us take down Vought once and for all.”

Grace considered you with a shifting light. “I didn’t think that mattered to you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you retorted. “But make no mistake. You will pay me what you owe me for this mission. If you think you’re going to welch on your end of the deal, then I’m about to be your long-term problem.”

Grace huffed in wry amusement.

“I have a feeling you will be, regardless,” she said.

“And to that end, I will be checking in on Ben,” you replied. “He’s a person, not a weapon or a lab rat.”

“Mind yourself, young lady,” Grace snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I admire your sense of loyalty, but in this case, it’s misplaced. That man is a bastard and a murderer, with a devastating power he can’t hope to control. And you, frankly, don’t have any standing to make demands.”

“And what’s your body count, agent?” you challenged. “Have they all been sanctioned kills?”

When she didn’t answer, merely staring back at you, you stood up.

“You’re right, he can’t control it. Yet. Maybe that’s something productive you can get your damn scientists on,” you said.

And before you left, you added one more thing.

“I may not have your security clearance, your power, or your money,” you said. “But I’ve got a big fucking mouth. So unless you want me to use it, my clearance now includes seeing Ben.”

Grace stared back at you for a moment.

Her nails tapped on her desk as she assessed you.

Releasing a long sigh through her nose, she relented. A little.

“Fine,” she said. “If you can convince him to ally with us on the Vought issue, I’ll allow you to see him.”

You nodded. For all that Grace hated Soldier Boy, she was a practical woman. She saw the same opportunity you did, and was willing to take advantage of it…even if you both knew that convincing Ben to play ball would be damn near impossible.

In fact, this would probably be your biggest challenge yet. But this, you were willing to fight for.

“I can start tomorrow,” you said.

It seemed that Vought and the CIA had been thinking similarly on how to confine Soldier Boy.

You spent one strange night back in your musty apartment before you returned to the S.A., bright and early, so that Grace could lead you to a lab below the main building. It was dark and made of pure concrete, encased in titanium.

In it was a state-of-the-art cell with three metal walls that had to disengage before you could reach the inner room. Inside those four corners of fortified, bullet-proof glass were scarce furnishings. Ben himself was strapped to a bed, with a mask held over his face.

At least he was out of the coffin, but it was difficult for you to watch, even as the scientists and guards unstrapped him and left the cell. The mask disengaged from his face, allowing him to breathe real air as he started to wake. But gas flooded into the compartment, not unlike Vought’s setup.

You and Grace stood outside the glass. She glanced at you with sharp nod. Then she left you alone.

Well, relatively speaking. There were guards posted at the entrance of the three walls behind you, controlling who got in and out of the cell area.

Once all the walls were back in place after Grace’s departure, you let out a shaky breath and stepped forward with the plate of food you brought, along with a few bottles of water.

Ben was moving off the bed, trying and failing to clear his head as he took in his surroundings with a furious glare. It only dimmed slightly when he realized you were there.

He made his way toward you, and you pressed a button that would allow you to safely pass his meal to him without letting any nerve gas escape the inner cell. Ben removed the lid from the plate, inspected the chicken and vegetables with an unreadable expression.

Then, with a burst of force, he took the plate and tossed it as hard as he could into one of the glass walls.

You flinched. But by the time he looked back at you, you’d schooled your expression, merely raising a brow.

“That was real fucking mature.”

“Suck on my balls, sweetheart,” he retorted. He cocked his head to the side. “Oh wait, you did. Last Tuesday.”

You glared at him with a hot blush spreading across your face. That was not, in fact, last Tuesday. But you didn’t rise to his bait.

“Are you really willing to partner with the S.A. to take down Vought? Or was that just you bluffing?” you asked.

Ben started to pace in irritation. You knew he was upset, and itching for revenge on anyone that would dare confine him again. You could guess what being in a cell was already doing to his mental state.

Which was why you were here, desperately trying to help him.

“Really, would you rather be hunted all your life, or would you rather just play ball here?” you tried to reason. “Become a real ally with the S.A. Show Mallory that you can operate within the law.”

Ben looked up from his pacing just to glare at you.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to with all these demands, huh?”

“You, Ben. I’m talking to you!”

He ignored you, resuming his pacing. “I’m a solo act for a damn reason.”

Oh really? you wanted to say. That’s why he needed your help to try and get to Stan.

“That got you here, now didn’t it?” you asked.

He didn’t answer. It made you think you weren’t going to get anywhere with him today. Maybe he needed some time to cool off.

You sighed and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you.

“You’re just going to leave me in here?” he asked in disbelief. And you thought you could read a throughline of hurt behind his eyes. “I saved you…shit, I’ve lost count how many times now. And still, you fucking betrayed me.”

“Don’t you do that,” you warned. Though you felt a prickle of guilt run down your spine. “You know very well what got you here. I tried to stop it. And I’m the only one who’s on your side right now.”

“Doesn’t fucking look like it from where I’m standing.”

You sighed in frustration. “I’ll tell you the truth, I don’t want to leave you in here. But if I can’t trust you, they never will.”

“I don’t know what delusions you have about me,” he said, coming closer.

“But when I get out of here, I’m slaughtering anyone who gets in my way!” he shouted savagely.

He banged his fists into the glass so hard that it trembled, making you flinch with a gasp. A more concentrated fog smoked up the cell. Ben coughed and cursed as he stumbled back, and eventually, he fell unconscious right there on the floor.

You watched in dismay. Despite his rage, it still hurt you to see him like this. Like a caged animal.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced yourself to leave the cell before the cameras caught them. You knew Grace would be monitoring this exchange later.

She would probably feel vindicated at what she saw.

The thought disgusted you as the outer walls parted, allowing you to leave. M.M. was waiting for you at the exit. He’d seen the entire thing through a monitor at the control desk, where two guards sat eating their lunch.

“You want to protect that piece of shit?” M.M. said, jerking a thumb towards the cell. “That’s what he really is. And he clearly don’t give a fuck about you.”

Your jaw tightened.

“I’m not going to justify my actions to you, M.M. I know what he’s done, especially to you," you said. "But he didn’t just let me live. He protected me, saved me, more than once. From his own men even. And…he was kind to me, in his own way. I have to think that counts for something.”

M.M. shook his head at you in disbelief.

“Maybe he went soft for a pretty girl, but that doesn’t mean he ain’t a monster,” he said.

“That’s not all there is to him,” you said. “You didn’t see it, M.M.”

The other man watched you for a moment, before he let out a deep sigh.

“You actually think he can be saved,” he said.

“Maybe,” you said. “We’ll see.”

He crossed his arms. You understood how he felt, but you couldn’t deny what your instincts told you about Ben…and your heart as well.

“He’s right about one thing,” M.M. said. “You are delusional.”

A few days went by as the team went back to work at the S.A. as usual. But your days during your first week home became marked by your strenuous visits to Ben.

Once again, he’d rather pace than look at you. You had a feeling it helped him stay awake.

“I fought for my country,” he groused. “I don’t fucking deserve this.”

“Oh, would you stop lying?” you said in annoyance. “You’ve only ever fought for yourself. You didn’t even fight in World War II! You’ve never been a soldier. And unless you get a fucking clue, you’re going to continue being the massive man-child your father saw in you.”

Maybe it wasn’t kind, but you were fed up with his stubbornness. You turned to leave.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” Ben shouted.

You raised a brow, and you turned on your heel. The man was livid, standing in the center of his cell.

“Or what?” you challenged.

But you soon relented at the way he withdrew–into himself.

You had checked the monitors before you came in; he was trying not to sleep, wasn’t letting his body rest. This place was like an open wound: complete wall-to-wall glass, no privacy, nowhere to go, and nothing to do. He couldn’t distract himself with drugs, or TV, or good food, or even good sex and conversation.

This was terrible for him, and you knew it.

“Ben, I want to help you,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. You laid a hand on the glass. “Let me help you.”

His gaze was angry and unyielding.

“There’s only one way you can help me,” he said. “But you won’t fucking do it.”

The team was giving you a wide berth. Even Annie greeted you in the office with more politeness than warmth.

Above all else, you remained professional, but it was a simple fact that your team was no longer your team. They didn’t trust you, or your judgment. And you refused to show how deeply that hurt you.

However, until you all got a breakthrough on taking down Vought and Noir, there was still work to be done. So you fell into step back in with the Surveillance team.

That meant taking your place as second-in-command to your manager, as well as returning to your cubicle next to your coworker Jess. She hugged you when she saw you, even shed tears.

You’d hugged her a bit awkwardly, but you were touched. You hadn’t thought she cared about you that much.

She told you that the entire Surveillance department had been worried about you. That they’d missed you, especially your calm, supportive leadership. (Apparently your manager had been stressed handling the entire department without you.)

That at least buoyed you throughout the rest of the week.

When you returned home on Thursday, however, you received an unexpected call. But when you saw the caller ID, you inwardly kicked yourself before you answered.

“Louisa?”

“What the hell is wrong with you!” came your sister’s sharp voice.

So many things, you thought with a weary sigh. You held your phone to your ear while you tried to find something to cook for dinner in your pantry. All you found was a box of spaghetti…which dragged up bittersweet memories you’d rather not think about.

“I meant to call you as soon as I got back,” you tried to explain. “But I’ve been in full debrief mode. It’s been a circus since I got back, Lou.”

You slammed the pantry shut and went for the frozen dinner in the freezer.

“I don’t care. I didn’t hear from you for almost two straight months…”

You knew the S.A. hadn’t told her anything about your kidnapping, but you knew she had to have been worrying when you didn’t check in at all after that first time in Medellin. The sound of her emotion-choked voice made your own eyes sting.

“I’m sorry, Lou. I’ll come visit you this weekend, okay? I’m still taking care of some things at work.” Namely a grumpy supe on lockdown. “How’s school?”

“School is fine!” she snapped. You heard her take a breath, presumably to calm herself. She had a bit of a temper, just like you, but your sister managed herself much better than you. You supposed being more well-adjusted had its perks.

“Mom was worried too, but I kept her calm. Focused on work,” she said.

“I appreciate that. Thanks,” you replied. You knew you had to call your mom soon as well. Maybe you’d stop in on her after your sister.

“I better see you this weekend,” she grumbled. You smiled.

“Love you too,” you said.

“Love you…okay, I’ll let you go for now. But don’t forget!”

Once you said goodbye and hung up, you held the phone to your chest and heaved another sigh. You were exhausted, really. Sleep hadn’t been coming easy to you ever since you got back. But you knew it was nothing compared to what Ben was going through.

Which was why you visited him every day.

The next morning, you made your pitstop to the “cellar,” as you’d been calling it in your mind.

You’d brought whatever Grace allowed you to give him, like books and magazines, and an old iPod to listen to music on, but he mostly ignored you.

This time, however, he seemed in a different mood as you sat in a plastic fold out chair and ate your breakfast with him, on your side of the cell of course. You took another bite of your blueberry muffin while he pushed aside his bland-looking eggs.

“So, how much did you get paid?” he asked. His tone was nonchalant, but his gaze was accusing. You let out a breath and looked up at him.

“Enough to put my sister through college and pay off my mom’s debts,” you told him. “I took this job for my family, Ben.”

His finger tapped on his arm, but he didn’t relent. “Selling out is selling out.”

Wow. He really had the nerve to compare you to the way his team sold him out.

You’d tried to be nice. You really did. But he could be such a massive pain in the ass.

“You don’t seem to understand just how much shit I’m in for trying to help you right now,” you said.

Ben mustered up some strength and got up from his cot. He drew near to you, crossing his arms.

“If this is your idea of doing me a fucking favor, then I don’t need it,” he said angrily. “I don’t need a naive little girl like you to help me do jack shit.”

You set down your muffin and stood to your feet, matching his glare.

“Like you didn’t need my help to get into Vought Tower?” you pointed out, satisfied by the way he piped down. Silently simmering.

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be awake right now,” you added. “You’d be back in an ice coffin.”

And that could still happen if you couldn’t convince him to cooperate with Supe Affairs.

“Fuck off,” he snapped. “And fuck you.”

Oh really? You frowned. At this point, you wanted to slap him. It seemed to be his sheer stubbornness and ego that was keeping him from his own freedom, and that, you just couldn't tolerate.

“You know what?” you said, grabbing your muffin and your fold-up chair. “Suck my dick, Ben. When you’re ready to talk to me like a human being, tap on the glass.”

You left him behind to do your real job, and this time, you didn’t let him halt your steps.

You’d scarcely entered your apartment that evening, when a shadow on the living room sofa gave you a small heart attack.

You flipped on the lights and found your younger sister, arms crossed with a raised brow. On the coffee table in front of her was a glass of soda. It looked like she’d made herself comfortable while waiting for you.

“Louisa! What are you doing here?” you exclaimed, with a hand on your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting in the dark?”

“I heard you coming up those rickety stairs and thought I’d pay you back for disappearing in South America,” she said.

But soon enough, wide grins took over both of your faces.

You pulled her into a big, warm hug. Tears burned in your eyes, and one or two slid down your cheeks as you tried to get ahold of yourself.

“I missed you so much,” you confessed. You were just slightly taller than her, able to comfortably pet her hair and press a kiss to her cheek. Louisa was just as emotional, her pretty eyes filled with happy tears.

She was about to speak when the glass on the coffee table suddenly shattered.

You both flinched, and your sister gasped. You held onto her shoulders tighter, more protective as you assessed the room. You listened closely.

A shot rang out, but it hit the wall beside your head. You moved at the last moment and narrowly avoided the third shot that would’ve struck you between the eyes.

“Get down!” you yelled, forcing your sister to crouch along with you and move across the living room.

Bullets tore with a vengeance through the windows, crashing into vases, picture frames, shattering the surface glass of the wooden coffee table, and ripping into the sofa until its internal fluff rose into the air like cotton confetti.

You protected Louisa’s head as you both took shelter behind the sofa.

“What’s happening?” she shouted over the cacophony, but you didn’t have an answer for her yet.

Your front door burst open and shattered the lock. You tensed, looking for where you stashed the spare gun you kept at home. The S.A. hadn’t gotten around to issuing you a new glock yet.

Heavy boots came through your apartment. You grabbed a piece of broken glass and told Louisa to stay down.

But when you stood and met your attacker, he was nearly three times your size. He grabbed your wrist in a firm, but not painful hold. He pulled his black ski mask down with a hand and revealed a familiar face.

Your eyes widened, your mouth gaping in shock.

“Frank?”

AN: 😏 Did I get'cha? Did I? Let me know in the comments. 😂

Next Time:

“Wait, wait. You’re not getting out of this.” Louisa leaned over and grabbed your hand. “What’s the deal with you and Soldier Boy? I thought the whole point of your mission was to capture him.”

You let out an exasperated sigh.

“I was on the job, things went sideways, I got captured, and things got…complicated.”

Frank huffed. “I think the kids are calling it Frenemies with Benefits.”

Keep Reading: PART 13

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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