#swatto

"Where the hell is Phoenix?" Soldier Boy finally noticed why there was a gaping hole in the meeting room's atmosphere. With his feet propped up on the edge of the table, he inspected the entirety of his team and found that one member was missing. Stan Edgar straightened with a sigh, an almost performance worthy somberness to his expression as he shrugged.

"Sadly, Phoenix has fallen ill." Soldier Boy gritted his teeth, the anxious energy tripled as he glared around at his team mates, whom were all unable to make eye contact with him.

"Ill?" Soldier Boy spat, "That's impossible. The bitch has an immune system akin to the Berlin Wall."

"That's what we had assumed for many years, but Phoenix is currently bed ridden with a small cold, proving us wrong." Edgar redirected the conversation then, immediately, "She will not be joining us on this mission, but hopefully she will have recovered by the time we get back."

"Bullshit." Ben wasn't falling for it. Phoenix was a goddamned firecracker-You were a firecracker. Although he had never seen it, he was certain that not even the sniffles would keep you from putting on that suit and fighting. Edgar made it seem like it was so normal, nothing to be alarmed over, but Phoenix was in her early fifties and you never got sick. Something wasn't right here. "Has anyone seen her?" He peered around the table, the awkward silence giving him his answer. "Well, that's settled then. Vought sent her on a fuckin' secret mission, and now they're trying to cover it up." He was satisfied with that conclusion, until Edgar cocked his head stoically at him, and said:

"Interesting theory, Soldier Boy, but Phoenix is actually here in the tower right this very moment. Resting. You are welcome to go see for yourself, no secret mission whatsoever." Soldier Boy, as stubborn as he was, went to stand. "I would insist though, that you go find her after the meeting. This is just a small briefing before our trip to Nicaragua." Soldier Boy's jaw tightened and he reluctantly sat back down, kicking his feet back up once more.

For the rest of the meeting, Soldier Boy remained surprisingly quiet, adrift so to speak, attention completely lost to all things around him. Usually, he had a habit of complaining and making quick insults at his teammates, but this time something more intriguing had taken up space in his thoughts. You.

Was he actually worried? He never worried about anything, he was Soldier Boy. But you were not unlike him when it came to your super abilities and the idea that you were sick didn't sit right with him.

Neither of you ever really got along: not having you around for a mission should have made him happy, but it didn't. He appreciated your grit, something that was in short supply these days. He always had appreciated your grit. You were the only idiot on the team stupid enough to call him out and he loved every second of it. You were fierce and compassionate and you were a damn good hero. If anyone asked the right question, he would very openly admit that you were the only other competent little shit in all of Payback-aside from himself, that was. And his countless attempts at getting into your pants? Well, it was sort of a coverup. Because he did like you so much that it almost hurt sometimes not being near you. You turned him down every time, forever and always was your modo, but it didn't put him off in the slightest. He loved it more than he should have.

Not having you around. Impossible. Not happening. He wouldn't allow it. He was the leader of Payback and if he said you were coming, you were coming.

When the meeting finished-small, my ass-he ordered one of the interns to go fetch him a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a bottle of brandy. He chuckled to himself as he watched them sprint away to go complete his order, knowing that if they made him wait any longer than was necessary he would not be pleased.

"You're going to go see her, aren't you?" Crimson Countess popped out from behind him, leaning against the wall beside the meeting room's double doors. Soldier Boy put on his flirtiest expression, propping an arm up beside Countess' head before grinning.

"Why? Are you jealous?" He teased, thinking it would curl those beautiful painted lips of hers. Instead, she rolled her eyes.

"What's the point even?" His eyes narrowed on her.

"What do you mean, sweetcheeks?" He wasn't going to feed any assumptions, if he didn't understand said assumptions to begin with. "You're just being paranoid. You know there is only one girl for me." He winked, caressing her porcelain cheek with the crook of his finger.

"Don't even." She shoved his hand away and he visibly frowned. "You fucked me once and that was it for you. Then you moved on to all these other girls and that's fine. But you don't want to fuck Phoenix, do you?" Her features drawn down in a sullen glare, "You want to be with her." Soldier Boy gulped, cracking his neck and then standing back from his lean on the wall to adjust his vest.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, I don't."

"Here!" The breathless intern returned, Soldier Boy faced him with a raised brow.

"What the fuck? That was like five seconds, kid." The intern was bent over, struggling to catch their breath. They held out an open bottle of whiskey and a container of a sloshy, mushy liquid. "Are you shittin' me?" Soldier Boy snatched the container from the intern's hand. "What the fuck is this?"

"My lunch, Sir. Chicken Noodle Soup that my mother made..." He held up the liquor, Soldier Boy winced in disgust at the half empty bottle. "And this, I stole it from the Legend's office." Soldier Boy lifted his chin in thought, his features loosened for a moment and he swayed his head from side to side in consideration.

"Points for effort, fuck nut..." He snatched up the bottle of booze and then lifted his boot, using a small fraction of his strength to tip the intern over to the ground. "But the soup is cold, so you're still pathetic." He shot a look back at a discarded Countess and then carelessly began down the hallway, leaving the Intern groaning and laying flat on the floor.

He had been in Phoenix's penthouse many times, a majority of the time he was uninvited. You had to have your door replaced at least seven times in the past year because he had a penchant for breaking and entering, especially if you weren't alone. He just couldn't help himself. The idea of you being with someone else, when he was more than capable of stopping it, it itched at his skin. He sometimes would stand outside your door for hours, contemplating whether or not to knock. And obviously, why would he knock? He was Soldier Boy. He didn't knock for anyone.

But god, what a stubborn bitch you were...

This time he would knock.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

He heard some shuffling on the other end, a TV being paused, followed by footsteps.

"Yes?" A nasally voice sounded=, he almost couldn't believe that it belonged to you.

"Police. Open up." He smirked, tilting his head as he listened for your response. There was a brief silence, and then:

"Fuck off, Ben."

"Think again, cupcake, I brought you the goods." Another moment of silence, he waited, and then he was done waiting. He dug his shoulder into the edge of the doorframe, his cheek close to it as if he was listening. "God, you must love me breaking down your door."

"Urgh, stop!" You hit the door and he bounced back with a hearty chuckle. "GO. AWAY."

"Do you think that's going to work?" You unlocked the door and swung it open, Soldier Boy instantly recoiled at the sight of you. You were wearing at least three layers of sweatshirts, comically making you look thicker, sweatpants and a pair of fluffy slippers. Your hair was disheveled, dark circles under your eyes, and your skin was sickly looking. His eyebrows furrowed and a certain strictness overtook him.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Jesus Christ," He hid his concern as quickly as it had dawned on him. "Please tell me you're dying." You slumped into the door, tiredly fluttering your eyes before sniffling.

"You'll be dead in a few seconds if you don't fuck off." There it was, that fire that he loved oh so much.

"Hear me out-"

"I hate hearing you out."

"I know, but this time..." He held up the soup and the bottle. "You might give me a chance."

"Really?" You snorted, crossing your arms as a horrible shiver wracked your body. "This is what you bothered me for."

"Considering that no one else on the team has stopped by, I'd say beggars can't be choosers."

"I didn't beg to be bothered by you, asshole."

"But you thought it, didn't you?" He held the items up again, puckering his lips in an amusing pose. "Come on~" He chirped, "Let me bother you."

"I'll accept the offering, you can leave now." You reached out for them, just to shut him up, except that wasn't enough. He swiped the items back to his chest and feigned an appalled look.

"Oh, please, honey, we're a package deal." You stared at him blankly, before stepping back, about to shut the door. "You close that door, next time I'll break it down." The shift in his tone, from playful to terse, sent a bout of irritation through you. You cracked it back a little, closing your eyes and then with an exhausted exhale, you creaked it open just enough. "Yahtzee." He cheered in a sing song voice, entering your penthouse and then booking it for the couch. You slammed the door and rushed to beat him to it.

"No. Don't you dare. No. No! FUCK!" He splayed himself across the couch, blankets and all, destroying the little nest you had made for yourself. You kicked the edge of the couch, it shifted from your strength and Soldier Boy laughed.

"Ooo, what are we watching?" He sat upright, allowing some space for you to occupy. He placed the bottle and the soup on the coffee table, squinting in thought at the giant Panasonic screen ahead of him. "A porno?" You bonked him on the head as you passed in front of him to curl into the corner of the couch.

"No, dipshit, it's Footloose. VHS." He unlatched his helmet and proceeded to remove it, dropping it alongside the other items on the coffee table.

"Ahhh, who's the guy in that-uh-" He snapped his fingers aggressively, closing in his eyes to scour the farthest reaches of his being. "Steak-Sausage-He's named after some kind of meat, I know it-"

"Bacon..." You couldn't help but laugh. "Kevin Bacon." Soldier Boy smiled boyishly at you, weaving his fingers through his hair and pulling back the bangs that dropped before his eyes.

"Yeah, that Bacon guy. Not bad, I guess. Shitty movie though." You hit his arm with what strength you had.

"Don't fuck this up for me. I've never seen it before."

"Neither have I..." He snorted, "I was too busy getting a blow job in the back row. Ya'know back in my time-"

"Our time." Oh yeah, sometimes he forgot that they were almost the same age. "Back in our time." You shivered again, snatching the blanket that Soldier Boy had pinned to the couch with his ass. He showed you mercy and sat up for you, so that you could bring the fabric up and around your body. His eyes focused on you for a split second before he shook his head away.

"Back in our time, we had good actors. They'd sing and dance and do all sorts of shit. Heck, did I ever tell you about that time I-"

"Ate Audrey Hepburn out in a bathroom stall at the Academy Awards?" You finished dully, Soldier Boy chewed the inside of his cheek.

"What about when I-"

"Fucked Marilyn Monroe in the ass, in the Oval Office?"

"Okay, now-"

"When you jerked off on Lucille Ball?" He clicked his tongue and snapped at you this time:

"You made that last one up."

"Sounds about right though, you mostly only ever contribute your sexual exploits to ninety percent of our conversations, so..." You sniffled, lifting the remote from the end table and shrugging. "Unless you have a legitimate explanation, I don't want to hear it."

"Fuckin' bitch." He muttered under his breath as you pressed play on the remote, rolling the movie. It was silent for a few minutes, nothing but the music and conversation from the big screen, and then you shivered again, your teeth rattling as your body tensed. You cursed under your breath, a wave of annoyance washing over you. "Vogelbaum see you, yet?" Soldier Boy asked, from the corner of your eyes you saw his head tilt toward you. "You don't look so good."

"Why do you care?" You spat at him, shifting to stare in his direction.

"Because you're a member of my team..." You rolled your eyes back to the movie, choosing to ignore what sounded like genuine care in his words. "I mean, if I am allowing you to stay here-"

"Allowing me?" You forced out a boisterous laugh, from the pit of your belly, that slightly hurt. "What are you gonna' do? Force me to go throw myself limply at Marxist Sandanistas?"

"You still got some strength in you, kid. Squeeze my pinky." He followed this by actually holding his pinky out. You rolled your eyes, but proceeded to wrap your pinky around his and squeeze. Strong, but not that strong.

"Ben, I can hardly lift myself up from the ground, it hurts to breath, and this morning I struggled to bring my tea to a steady boil." He flicked his pinky from yours, your hand limply falling to your lap. His eyes scanned you, chest rising and falling with a heavy breath.

"You afraid?"

"No." You confessed, although you continued with, "Heck, the sooner I die, the less I have to look at your ugly mug."

"That's a brat move." He smiled at you, you couldn't help but return it. There was almost an odd way about this moment, as if you were secretly comforting each other, while trying not to comfort each other, while also trying to hate each other. Or at least, this was a much more comfortable moment compared to the usual. "Seriously. Did you get Vogelbaum in here?"

"He came and checked me out, said I was fine."

"That sit right with you?"

"Not, really, but I don't care." You bit your bottom lip, refusing to look at him.

"Why, not?" The music in the background was no longer soothing as it was needling every nerve in Soldier Boy's patience. "(Y/N)?" It was the only warning you were going to get before he destroyed the TV, he decided.

"We don't age." You clicked the button on the remote, the screen zapping into an abyssal black. You propped your head under your fist on the armrest and gazed at Soldier Boy. You hadn't slept for days and your superhuman energy could only run for so long. You were on backup at this point.

"So what..." He crossed his arms, a stern curve to his brow. "I thought woman liked that shit. No wrinkles, or whatever."

"Ben, I'm being serious."

"Me too."

"You're sixty-five years old..."

"Thanks for stating the obvious."

"And you don't look a day over thirty." He breathed, pretending not to understand the implications of what you were suggesting. He knew it already. The both of you did. You weren't the only two heroes that never aged, but it was a given that you didn't age ever and that your kind of hero was few and far between. "I'm fifty-four and look just as young as I did when I was twenty-two, getting that first injection of V."

"What are you even going on about, honey? I think you need some weed, calm ya' down, want me to-"

"Please listen to me for once." Were you crying? Oh boy, Ben thought. He cleared his throat and then sat up taller against the backrest of the couch, directing his eyes to the ceiling. "I don't want to live forever. Time gives life meaning, ya'know? And when you can't feel pain, or you're too strong to give someone normal a really good hug, it starts to get to you." You palmed at your face, willing the tears away. "I want to get married one day, I want to have kids and grow old with someone."

"Pfft, Marriage." Ben mockingly echoed, but he was silenced by your tear stained expression. He had never seen you so broken before.

"I can't believe I'm even talking to you about this..." Your breath wavered with a snicker. "You're the biggest asshole I've ever met. You don't care."

"I've thought about it..." He needed to busy himself with something, so he settled on the whiskey. He tucked in a reach for the bottle, yanking the cork out and going for a chug. The liquid left a pleasant burn behind on his throat and he winced. "Settling down with someone..." He feigned a cough into his fist. "That I care about. That I-" His head tilted back and forth. "That I might even love."

"Countess..." Hearing you say her name made his skin crawl, his fist clenched and he shut his eyes. No. Not Countess, Phoenix. "She loves you."

"She hates me." He plopped back, placing the bottle in between his legs on his crotch. "Only puts up with me because of the money, because of the fame."

"Maybe if you showed some loyalty to her, she wouldn't." His tongue slung around teeth, collecting the residue of the hardy liquid. With his head laid on the puffy pillow of the backrest, he turned it to you.

"I'm a real fuck up, I know it. My father seemed to know it too..." He fiddled with the neck of the bottle. "But I'm still afraid of failing the people I really do care about." You eyed him, not particularly sure what to do with this soft and open moment. "And Countess isn't one of them."

So you push people away.

Your breath hitched, you buried the bottom half of your face under the covers for a brief recoup in your feelings. Your face was still wet and you hate how absolutely freezing it was.

"I don't want you to die..." The admission was heaved out, shaky and choppy and all sort of scrambled, but your entire body tingled at it. "If that wasn't obvious enough." You pulled the blanket over your head, like that was going to help you.

"I don't think it was, Ben. You just told me you wished I was dying, not even a few minutes ago."

"I was joking, come on. Can't take a fuckin' joke?" He yanked at the edge of the blanket, but not hard enough to tug it from you. "What's the problem, anyways? You've got the sniffles, big whoop."

"I'm cold." You lowered the blanket to gaze at him. "I'm never cold."

"Well, you're a naturally hot person. No shame in that." He grinned, winking at you. When you didn't immediately react, as far as he could see-the blanket hiding your smile-he stretched his arm across the couch again. "I know something that can warm you up."

"I'm not going to have sex with you."

"Damn, I like the way you think." He purred, you pretended to gag at him as you settled the blanket in your lap. "But no, just come jump in my furnace for a little bit. I won't touch you." After his offer, he followed with an assertive wave of the hand that was stretch out along the back rest toward you.

"Ben-"

"I've seen you butt naked, get your ass over here." You sighed, knowing he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, he never did. You weakly shuffled across the couch and when you were close enough he dropped his arm, trapping you in his embrace. Your body melted against his and you were instantly incapacitated at the heat that drew from in thick waves. You couldn't help the moan that exited your parted lips. "Careful, you might just tempt me, honey."

"I'll-" Your eyes slid shut as you dropped your cheek to his chest. "I'll burn your dick off if you try anything." His laughter rumbled up through his chest and you felt it with a fond smile. You wished you could smell too, because you were certain he smelled amazing.

"We going to turn the TV back on, or..."

"Why don't we just..." You smacked your lips, bringing a leg over his thigh so that you perfectly curled up to his side. "Let's just stay here for a bit." He didn't promise not to touch you, his palm held the base of your skull and his other hand guided yours to rest flat on his chest.

"I'm okay with that." He allowed his own eyes to slid shut as he took a deep breath. He tucked his nose into your scalp and inhaled, you were too sleepy to stop him. "If you aren't better by the time I get back, I'm going to toss you off the top of the tower."

"Why would you do that?" You snorted, confused more than annoyed by it. You knew how he could be.

"Call it, Soldier Boy's in-home flight training experience." You smiled goofily, thankful that he couldn't see it.

"Oh yeah? Well, if I'm going down, you're going down with me."

"You won't go down though..." There was a lilt of a growl to his words. "Because you'll be brand new by then, right?"

"I hope." You didn't expect him to squeeze you even tighter.

"You will. Promise." You turned your face, your lips to his chest plate as you then looked up into his eyes.

"I promise." He wanted to kiss you so badly then, but he couldn't. He couldn't kiss you. He thought about your conversation, about how you both opened up to each other. He thought about what his father said to him all those years ago... And he didn't want to hurt you. Instead, he cupped your cheek and stared back.