Beautiful Trauma - A Soldier Boy Miniseries: Chapter 2
Beautiful Trauma
Pairings: F!Reader x Ben/Soldier Boy
Summary: The reader is the real widower of Ben/Soldier Boy and loved their life together before the incident. In 1983 she took Compound V, so she could be with Ben forever, but in 1984 her life crashes to the ground, and sheâs stuck in a world without him. In 2022 a knock at the door changes her life, and when sheâs told that Ben is alive she hopes that there can be a forever after all.
A/N: Reader has certain traditional gender values, that are antiquated today.
Chapter Warnings: Antiquated views, language, and mentions of domestic violence.
Chapter W/C: 2435
This work is unbetaâd so all mistakes are mine. If you like it, heart, and reblog it. All feedback is gold.
1984
The baby slept in the bedroom, and some random crap played on the radio â the busted tv still in its place â it never got replaced. The stubbed-out end of a blunt lay in an ashtray along with the others, its job complete in dosing you up. Trapped smoke lingered around the room with nowhere to escape, and you were dozing on the sofa after smoking enough to take out a whole football team.
The boot bashing in your door jerked you awake. Still high, you rubbed your eyes and watched Payback, minus Gunpowder, and Swatto, storm in.
âJesus, fuck. Smells like a ganja farm in here.â Mindstorm commented, coughing and waving his hand to waft the smoke away.
Confused, mind foggy from the blunt, you continued to stare.
âLook at her. She doesnât know what time of day it is.â Crimson Countess noted, walking around the apartment living area.
âShe probably doesnât even know weâre here,â Tessa said, and she and her brother laughed.
âI do.â You slurred.
Crimson Countess picked up a photograph of you and Ben on your wedding day. You were standing on tiptoe, kissing Ben on his cheek, and he looked handsome as ever in his Philly baseball shirt, with one arm hooked around your waist and the other in the pocket of his slacks. It had been taken outside the registrarâs office. She put it back with a curl to her lip.
âDisgusting.â She muttered.
You blinked, and she continued to loiter, mumbling under her breath about the photos on the mantle and the Soldier Boy memorabilia. Then she spun on her heel, marched to the closed door where your daughter slept, and ripped it from its hinges.
âMindstorm, do your worst.â
Instinct kicked in, if a little too slowly, and you flew off the couch only to topple to the floor. Stumbling, head-fogged, you attempted to barge through the TNT and Mindstorm barricade.
You shoved Mindstorm to one side, but the TNT duo pushed you back.
âI donât understand.â Mindstorm muttered as you fell on your ass.
âTNT! Detonate!â Tommy and Tessa yelled in unison and joined hands. Then, they each held a hand up, aiming at you.
Your eyes widened. Shit. In your stoned-out state, you froze and waited for the electric bolt that would surely come your way. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting the inevitable. Nothing. No electric. And certainly, no nightmares.
âWhat the fuck!â Tommy and Tessa screeched.
âNothingâs happening.â Mindstorm muttered.
You opened your eyes. Mindstorm and TNT were staring at you, trying, but failing to use their powers against you.
âI canât hear her. Itâs so quietâŠ.â
You didnât understand. Compound V had been a dud. You hadnât gained any powers â not even the most common â super strength. Youâd sobbed on Ben, and he had comforted you as best as he could. Compound V had meant to be the way forward â it had meant forever with Ben. And the lack of powers had destroyed that. But here you were, gasping in breaths with three members of Payback powerless in front of you.
âCrimson! Weâve got a problem!â
Crimson walked out with your daughter on her hip and a hand on the other. âWhat?â
âOur powers are useless.â Tessa said.
âSweet peaceâŠâ
âUselessâŠâ Crimson muttered and held out a hand. She smirked, and where a fireball typically erupted â nothing. Not even a wisp of smoke.
âThe hell?â Crimson attempted another fireball, this time putting some effort into it. But still nothing.
You used the fact that three out of four were stumped to your advantage to grab your daughter from Crimson Countess. Then, still unsteady, you stumbled and fell into TNT.
âDonât just stand there. Do something!â
Spurred on, Tommy yanked you up by the collar, but Tessa got excited. Her manic smile swam in your view as she clocked you in the jaw. Stars burst, and Tommy pushed you down. Unable to save yourself, your head bounced on the carpet, and in the distance, you heard their hyena cackles and Crimsonâs throaty voice, âVought sends their regards.â, before blacking out.
2022
Silence fell around the room as the information was revealed to them. Looks were exchanged that you werenât privy to.
âWhat? Thatâs what you didnât know about?â
The unkempt one cussed under his breath.
âButcher, this just got a whole lot fuckinâ complicated.â The black man said. His tone warning.
âNah. Itâll be fine, MM.â Butcher said, waving him off.
He then gave you a sly look. âHang on, if you were wiv Soldier Boy back then, âow come you ent snapped out of the cuffs?â
You tugged at the cuff attached to the table leg. âI would if I could.â
âBut youâre a Supe.â Butcher stated.
You laughed bitterly. âIâm not a Supe.â
âWell, excuse my French lady, but you look fucking phenomenal for 70. Fuckinâ âell, boâle, what you got up and rinse that shit for all its worth.â
âThe V didnât work. I didnât get powers,â It wasnât entirely true, but some secrets were worth keeping to yourself. âExcept for the no ageing thing. Thatâs it.â
Butcher sat with his hand on his chin, taking it in. Then, finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but the youngun beat him to the punch.
âAre you the one that keeps leaving flowers on Soldier Boyâs statue?â
You nodded. Every anniversary, Valentineâs, birthday, and Christmas. And sometimes whenever you felt like it. Benâs statue embodied the only living resemblance that he had been alive in a world that continued to slip from your grasp. Sitting there and talking to him restored balance in your life.
âIf you know that Vought are scummy fuckers, why ent you done anyfink about it?â
âLike what? Storm in there and demand my daughter back and for them to tell the truth? Yeah, that would work really well.â
Butcher held up his hands in surrender. âAlright, luv, donât getchur knickers in a twist.â
âThose fuckers stole a baby. Mon Dieu...â
The Asian beside him rubbed her hand up and down the Frenchmanâs back, comforting him.
âSomethings not sitting right,â MM started. He stood and paced the room. âVought grabbed your child, and they didnât kill you?â
âWhy would they kill me? They got what they wanted. Taking my daughter sent the message plain and clearâ that they can get away with anything.â
âButââ
âOi, leave off, wouldja.â
MM tensed his jaw, his fists clenched, but he questioned you no more. Instead, he sat and glared at Butcher.
You turned your attention to the leader of the gang, Butcher. âCan I please go now?â
He shook his head. âNah. Tell us where Crimson is first.â
You huffed, annoyed.
âI donât know where she is.â
âThe fuck you donât. She was Soldier Boyâs public girlfriend, and I fink you hated her wiv evâry fiba of your being.â
Yeah, you hated her, but after theyâd taken your daughter, you just didnât give a shit about anything anymore. Waking up sober with Vought lawyers knocking on your door with papers to sign about your daughterâs âuntimely deathâ put you into three decadesâ deep depression.
âI lost everything. You think Iâm gonna care about some washed-up, has-been cooze? Ben was Payback, and without him, those losers are nothing.â
âTell us!â
âSheâs a two-bit trailer trash whore! Now tell me where Ben is!â
*
The bastards left you handcuffed to the table leg as they searched for Crimson Countess. As they left, you heard MM to Butcher, âThereâs something sheâs not telling us. Somethingâs not adding up. Why would they leave her alive after sendingâŠâ. You strained to hear the rest, but they were too far away.
Stupid fucking cuffs. You screamed in frustration, eventually managing to snap the table leg and free yourself. The handcuff dangled from one wrist â that would have to wait. More important things were at stake. You threw a chair at the window of the door, smashing it. With another one, you swiped the window free of glass and escaped. Nothing would stop you from getting to Ben.
Ben was in America. And he wanted revenge. He deserved payback for what those fuckers did to him in Nicaragua. And you would be there right by his side, supporting him.
*
The car swerved as a boom went off. The glass in the windows disintegrated, and the earth shook. You saw a bright light erupt into the sky. What the fuck? Desperate to return in the right direction, you turned the steering wheel until it gave out as the car continued to hydroplane.
It spun out, and you conceded death as the car careened into a fence post. The airbag deployed, and you smacked into it. Dazed but otherwise alright, you left the car and ran to the explosion site.
The lactic acid burned in your chest and legs, but you kept running. Ben was your world; youâd been without him for so long.
âHughie!â
Butcherâs cockney accent punctured the air nearby, and you almost knocked into the kid.
âFuck!â He yelled, jumping out of the way as you came whizzing by. You heard the sound of a Geiger counter ticking for a split second.
An orange glow emitted from Cuntessâ trailer, and a figure stood amidst the wreckage. Your heart leapt, and you used the last ounce of adrenaline to run to him. He moved away from the burning trailer.
Hope bloomed. Your pride and joy. Your world. Your feet pounded the grass. Your heart hammered in your chest. You shouted his name, and Ben turned around, ready for the threat pursuing him, but when he saw you, he stood stock still, his shield dropped, hitting the grass with a clank.
Ben stumbled a few steps as you latched on, arms wrapped around him. He stunk of smoke, but you didnât care. Overwhelmed, you stuffed your face into his chest and broke down. Never in a million years had you thought it possible. Youâd dreamt of reuniting with Ben, but the sad reality began again when dawnâs light pushed through the crack in your curtains, and you awoke alone.
His hand threaded into your hair, his head dipped, and he pressed his lips to yours.
âIâve missed you so much, woman.â Ben breathed you in, taking slow and steady breaths, recounting for all the lost time.
The off-kilter angle of your world started to adjust itself, and you felt whole. Complete. You had your man. Now you just had to find your daughter.
He tilted your chin up and wiped the tears away with gentle thumbs, softly telling you to hush.
Nearly forty years later and this man still managed to leave you breathless. He honestly was flawless. Dark hair, which flopped over, so inviting your hands itched to sink into. Green eyes so dazzling and pretty, along with sinfully plush lips that whispered lewd things in your ear and gave scalding kisses in the dead of night. The fuzz he sported brought his flawless, gorgeous look together.
âYouâre giving me a real chubby looking at me like that.â
You matched your bedroom eyes with a come hither smile. âLetâs go find some hay to roll in, then.â
You couldnât catch his words, but the searing look told you of his intentions for the night.
âSorry to interrupt the reunion.â A certain Cockney accent butted in.
Benâs eyes became cold and flinty, and his stance became protective. He bent and picked up his shield, stepping in front of you. Irritated, you sidestepped, noticing Butcher and Hughie. Ben gripped your arm and shoved you behind him again.
âStay put, woman.â He demanded.
âCharminâ. If I talked to my missus that way, sheâd give me a bloody nose.â
You couldnât see, and his hand on your arm stopped you from moving. He had a nice back, but you were getting tired of looking at it, so you leaned over, but he yanked you back in place.
âWell, mine knows her place.â
You couldnât see, but you were sure he wore a tight smile. Probably pissed that you were showing him up.
Being a good wife to Ben gave you pride. Keeping him happy made you happy. You had dinner ready for him as he came through the door, fetched him beers when he asked, and, importantly, made sure you looked pretty for him. It gave you a purpose, and having your daughter only expanded that.
At times he could be abrasive, but you attributed that to Payback and Vought. They demanded so much from him, and he gave what he could. Whenever he did snap, you snapped back, which let him know you werenât gonna take any of his crap. Sometimes if you crossed a line, he would rebuke you with a swat to the cheek. But you were always ready and willing with your apology â between his legs, on your knees.
âAlrightââ Butcher started.
âIâm in. Meet me tomorrow, and donât forget the stuff.â
In? Tomorrow? Stuff? Ben dragged you away before you could ask. If Butcher and his team had spoken to Ben, youâd bet your bottom dollar that theyâd conveniently forgotten about you.
âBen, I know them. The English bastard falsely arrested me, and they hounded me for information on Cuntess.â
âIâll deal with it.â He gruffly snapped.
This side of Ben was all business, and you knew better than to cross Ben like this. Getting on the wrong side warranted a visit to the hospital with a well-thought-out lie.
âOkay.â
A heavy hand laid on your heart. Ben could be harsh, but he had a heart of gold and meant well. Your happiness resided in him. If he wasnât happy, then neither were you. You couldnât let it disrupt your forever. But something would until she was found. It wasnât fair for him not to know.
Ben reached a car. He popped the trunk and placed his shield in.
âYou gonna get in, or are you gonna stand there looking gormless?â
âBen. I need to tell you something.â
He turned to you, irritated. âWhat?â
You stalled, and he gave you that look, meaning he had no patience for your antics.
âVought took Heather.â
The air stilled, and the tang of burnt metal filled your nostrils. Ben bared his teeth, and the roof edge creaked as it bent under his hands. His breaths came out fast, like a raging bull. You expected another explosion, but nothing.
âBen?â
At your tentative question, he looked up, fixing you with an intense stare. âIâll get those fuckers. Donât you worry.â
And you knew he meant it.
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