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this house is not a home (without my baby)

pairing; soldier boy x supe!reader word count; 6.4k ☔️ summary; before vought and all the superhero bullshit, ben had you. there was a time you both believed your love could conquer anything, but you soon realize that was nothing more than wishful thinking.

tags/warnings; language, heavy angst, fighting/violence, mentions of torture, time jumps (pre and post vought rising era), childhood best friends to lovers to strangers to ? , op supe!reader, good friend bombsight, canon-divergent, lowkey a 5x06 fix-it, hurt/comfort, mentions of suicidal ideation and depressive thoughts, sad feels, ambiguous ending, the boys season five spoilers, 18+ only ✮.ᐟ

⋆˚࿔ notes; and here we have another case of getting possessed by a new idea before finishing the rest of your wips, lol. i'm still lowkey upsetti spaghetti with the VR rollout, but it's fun playing around with his backstory pieces. <3 ♪ now playing; inspo from after hours by the weeknd

I know I made you fall then said you were wrong for me I lied to you, I lied to you, I lied to you (to you) can't hide the truth, I stayed with her in spite of you

ben masterlist ᝰ. main masterlist

He pictures your face more often than he'd like to admit.

Specifically from that night, when he ripped your heart from your chest and threw it aside without a second thought. He chose his power, his fame, and her over you. Like it was nothing.

And he's had to stew in that regret for decades.

Nobody could fill the void you left behind—not Clara, nor the women who threw themselves at him, or his dancers, or even Countess.

None of them compared.

Even now as he smokes a joint next to Firecracker, he feels that ache in his chest, the place you used to fill now empty and hollow. Thanks to his little trip, facing one of his ghosts at Harmony, he thinks about that day—when he last saw you.

"This is all temporary, Ben! We're nothing more than glorified puppets, cogs in a machine we don't truly understand. Why can't you see that?"

"We didn't go through all that shit to sit pretty on our asses doing nothing. We're meant to do something with these powers. To be great. Clara gets that, why can't you get it through your thick fucking skull?"

"Shut the fuck up, don't even get me started on her, she's obviously playing with you. Tell me, how many times did she tell them to lock you in the radiation room, hmm?"

“It made me stronger—”

“It was torture—”

"You don't know shit—"

"I know enough. And I'm telling you Benjamin, these people don't truly have your back. They wouldn't even spit on you if you were on fire. Keep going down this path and it's only going to lead you towards a sad and lonely life."

"Where ya off to?"

He didn't even realize he'd sat up, forgetting where he was for a moment as he got lost in the memory before grumbling out a short response and leaving the room.

Off to find more answers, in fucking LA of all places. Great.

Surely the universe must be messing with him.

"The fuck did you just say?" He growls, holding Mister Marathon's leg in his grasp.

He groans in pain, voice strained. "I'm telling you man, only person who'd know where fucking Bombsight's at is Nova and she's even harder to track. The average person doesn't even know she exists, only the most dedicated collectors do."

Ben clenches his jaw, getting lost in his thoughts before Homelander appears, crushing Marathon's head with his foot. "What happened?"

"I took care of it." He grouses. "No lead on Bombsight, cocksucker was full of shit. Means we gotta find him on our own for the V1."

Homelander says something he tunes out, his thoughts only focused on his next move, on finding you.

the past

Ben lived on the edge of a wealthy neighborhood growing up, despite whatever lies Vought sold the public about rags to riches.

It was always riches.

Located right next to a little group of smaller houses, the closest one being yours. You'd met when you were thirteen, when he caught you climbing one of the trees in his backyard for an apple red handed, literally.

He didn't snitch though, instead helping you down and asking for your name. You weren't sure why you trusted him with it, he wasn't sure why he kept your cover, but that had been the start of an unlikely friendship.

Where he was met with coldness and dismissal at home and at school, he found warmth and solace with you.

Soft, kind, humble—you were everything he felt he couldn't be. As the time passed and the world hardened around him, he did too. But not you. You remained gentle, compassionate. It made sense you decided to become a nurse, to help as many people as you could.

Somewhere along the way in your dynamic there was a shift. Years of something unspoken between the two of you coming to light when one of his comrades asked if you were married.

An uncomfortable feeling churned in his gut, sour taste in his mouth at the thought of anyone else with you. He realized then, what he felt for you was beyond simple friendship. Not that he'd admit it first.

But lucky for him he didn't have to, seeing as you kissed him first that same night on the roof of the building, under the beautiful night sky.

It was mutual, you were happy...for about three years. The period of calm before the series of raging storms.

Because he got the call about his mom in January of 1944, and it was downhill from there—the beginning of the end.

His father grew even more resentful, more bitter, after his wife's passing. And no matter what you'd say you couldn't ward off the thoughts of doubt, hurt and shame swirling within him at his father's disappointment.

He decided to enlist in the Army, make him proud, just like his brother. There was only a slight hesitation at the sight of your tears, but it wasn't enough to deter him fully. Not even when you expressed deep concerns at the revelation of the experiment he'd be participating in.

"Ben are you sure about this? It's dangerous."

"It'll be worth it, you'll see. It's gonna work."

"M'not worried about it working, I'm worried about you. Ben these are experiments, they're going to be pumping you full of god knows what. It'll probably hurt like hell, and who knows if you'll even survive." Your voice cracks at the last word, a tear making it's way down your cheek. "It's not worth your life, baby."

He brings a hand up to your cheek, wiping the droplets with his thumb gently. "Come with me. I'm sure they're in need of nurses, I can talk to them. You can watch over me yourself, see that I'll be fine."

You bit your wobbling lip in contemplation. It's not like you had roots tying you down here anyway, nothing major keeping you to the town besides Ben.

That made your choice for you.

And he was right, they were in need of another nurse. So you followed him to Fort Harmony, a place you grew to despise fairly quick.

Clara Vought, wife of Dr. Fredrick. She made it clear she didn't like you the moment you met. Watching you move with disdain, always a snarky remark to make, indulging in your stress and slight fear. It was highlighted especially when the day came for Ben to get injected with the Compound V.

He was terrified, there was no hiding it. You've all heard the echoing screams, the wails coming from down the hallway. Quinn mocked him from the other side of the room as you fastened Ben's restraints, making sure they weren't too tight on him.

"Quinn hush, you're getting injected next, if I were you I wouldn't be laughing." The monotonousness of your voice is what actually makes him quiet down. During your time here you were never unkind to anyone, always speaking with clarity and sincerity to both staff and patients (you were also the only who who called them that, everyone else referring to them as subjects).

Your voice softens when you lean down to whisper at Ben. "You want me to get you out?"

He shook his head no. "M'fine."

You run a gentle hand through his hair, soothing him with a kiss on his forehead. "I'm right here, okay? Not going anywhere."

The moment is interrupted when Clara walks in, a few scientists trailing behind her. She scowls at the sight of you so close to him, eyeing you with disgust. "It's time." She tightens his restrains, much to your chagrin, scolding you for leaving them 'so loose'.

"Actually I don't think you even need to be in here right now, I'm administering the dose." She quips, but Dr. Vought himself intervenes. "Leave her, Clara. The calmer he is the better, needs to save his strength to get through this successfully."

She glares at you, and you hold eye contact before focusing on Ben again instead, a hand on his arm and one atop his head, resting gently to soothe him, for support. Five minutes later they pumped the blue liquid into his veins.

His screams tore right through you. Agonizing sounds ripping from his throat, painful spasming from under the straps. You kept your hands on his skin the whole time, careful not to reach for his hand despite how much you wanted to. He'd completely crush it, no doubt.

It went on for minutes, as the poison got acquainted with his system. Your gentle hands were his anchor, grounding him in a way everybody could see. In which the previous subject was already convulsing half to death by now, Ben was holding strong, leaned into your orbit as the waves of pain kept washing over him.

And when it's done, he passes out quietly, successfully. He survived, and the gears in Mr. and Mrs. Vought's heads began to turn.

Clara had her husband with her when she was getting injected, and Ben had you. They determined the key was keeping the subjects' heart calm enough to withstand what it was getting put through with the serum.

So you found yourself with a new assignment—keeping the patients calm during the injection process. Granted it wasn't the same, you and Ben loved each other and had years of history behind you. These other people you didn't even know.

But your kindness made all the difference. With each person, you were gentle, patient. You explained the process so they could brace for it, kept a soothing hand on their shoulder.

Quinn ended up wetting himself, but you didn't mock him for it.

The blonde woman started having a panic attack, and you calmed her down by talking in her ear the whole time, reassuring and comforting.

There was the guy with light brown hair and eyes blue enough to rival the liquid in the vial who managed pretty well, being the only one to muster up enough energy to thank you before passing out.

The last man was startlingly quiet, in comparison to the others. He didn't say anything as you prepped him, opting to try and contain himself during the procedure, helped massively by your arm rubbing circles on his shoulder for support, though he wouldn't admit it then.

In between it all you would look after Ben, observing his vitals, his progress and recovery. It was on you to make sure he was stable enough before they continued with any sort of test.

Clara disagreed, wanting to start immediately but her husband refused, agreeing with you about how important it was to take their time. The best food is made over time on a low simmer, my dear. He told her in their native language, and it only enraged her against you more.

She hated you and your softness, thought it made you weak, nothing more than a fucking liability. So she brought in one more subject, without Fredrick's approval.

He'd gone to an important meeting in the city, and she brought in some random civilian—enticing him with her looks and her voice, vaguely promising great things. She ordered you specifically to administer the dose, much to your confusion, parting from Ben with the promise to come back. The feeling only intensifying when you didn't see Dr. Vought in the room.

"It's not your job to wonder, it's your job to be a fucking nurse." She'd snapped when you asked, and you swallowed your remark with a glare and clenched teeth.

Clara "secured" his restraints as you prepare the needle, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Might not be the best time to tell you, but she's about to inject you with something that's going to hurt. Really bad. Those screams you hear down the hall? It's because of this, because of her."

The man looks worried, and scared. Weary as she moves away and you approach. You ease him, same as you've been doing, but once he spots the needle inching closer to his arm he panics.

He breaks out of the loose restraint, grabbing your arm mid air. You're caught off guard, gasping in surprise and pain at his iron grip. In his fright, he takes the syringe from your hand after freeing his other one and jabs it into your chest, pushing the serum in.

It burns instantly, making you stumble back and fall over in agony. You scream so loud and so long it burns your throat, the pained sound ringing throughout the facility.

All the others look around in confusion, but Ben recognizes your voice in a second. He rushes out of his room, shoving off anyone in his way. Though everyone slowed when they realized he wasn't trying to escape, he was going straight to where you were within the facility.

Clara smirks at the sight of you before slipping the mask back on, shooting the man in the head before he can utter another word. Ben rushes in seconds later, zeroing in on your convulsing form on the floor. "Hey hey hey, it's okay, you're okay."

You thrash in his arms, tears running down your face nonstop, sweat soaking your forehead and small pained whimpers escaping your scratchy throat. He angrily looks up, "What the fuck happened?"

She feigns bewilderment, "I-I don't know, he broke out of his restraints and injected her with the serum instead, must've been crazier than we thought. And you know how careless she can be with the straps." She couldn't help but add in that last bit of snark, and he nearly growls in anger.

He holds you through it, reassuring you the same way you did for everyone else. After what feels like an eternity you slump in his arms, looking at him through bleary eyes for a moment. He knows you want to say something, he just nods and kisses your cheek gently understanding you can't get the words out. "I'm sorry." He whispers against you, before you pass out in his embrace.

There wasn't really a choice from there, seeing as you survived. You were now officially one of their test subjects.

Fredrick was furious, snapping at Clara for being so reckless, so stupid. And unfortunately her frustrations and anger with him, she took out on you.

You were held in a different sector, isolated from the others despite Ben's protests."You both need to focus, to get stronger, better. Believe me, you are the ultimate expression of what we could be, darling. You cannot grow, cannot blossom into your full potential if you're running to each other every time we need to run a test. Just be patient, it will all work out. I take care of you, don't I? I'll take care of her." She purred into his ears.

And he believed it.

He didn't know her plans for you were different. Sadistic.

She did to you things she wouldn't do to the others—beatings, other injections, radiation, various methods of torture. It was fun for her, your pain and suffering. A month in you would beg her to end it. Pleading for the sweet release of death, anything would be better than the anguish she was putting you through everyday. She'd just smile at you, condescending, mocking you at every opportunity.

"Adapt or die, sweetheart."

It was a complete 180 with Ben.

Without you the others got stuck with colder nurses. Ones who were only there for the money, or the mission. Nobody with your compassion. So Clara would use that to her advantage, manipulating who she could.

She was a wolf in sheep's clothing, sending them to the radiation chamber then feigning concern as if she wasn't the one who ordered it. Then she'd pander to their ego.

You're doing so much better than everyone.

You are meant to do great things.

All eyes will be on you.

Ben and Robbie ate it up the most, Angel gained her confidence, Quinn remained skeptical and Torpedo, well, remained quiet. Hard to get a read on that one.

But of course, she bit off more than she could fucking chew.

Months of everything she was doing to you, your abilities developed, solidified into something they could no longer control. It got to the point she couldn't hurt you anymore, couldn't kill you.

Not for a lack of trying, she got very creative.

Until you finally snapped.

She had you strapped against a diagonal platform, facing a massive ray. Laser. Powerful. Heat blast. You heard the scientists muttering.

Fredrick was in the room for once, observing. He usually focus on the others, letting his wife take the lead on your project. But he decided to stick around, being so close to the release date—the start of the next phase for Vought.

Everyone else was ready. Now it was time to see if you were too.

With her thick accent, Clara starts presenting you like cattle at an auction, a cold sadistic smile on her face. She powers up the massive ray after her spiel, after everyone's made it a safe distance, and it beams onto you.

You scream, the blast burning your chest enough for you to feel it, but not enough to penetrate your skin somehow. After a moment the air shifts—from somewhere within yourself you feel an energy pulse and release, amplified by your emotion. With a yell you snap from the restraints, focusing your power on the ray still blasting you.

Everyone watches in abject shock how you slowly turn the red hue into blue, slowing down it's effects, freezing it. Fredrick turns the machine off before it implodes, though it'll never work again.

With a purple flash you teleport directly in front of Clara, scooping her up by the neck and shoving her against the wall with a sharp crack, the concrete breaking from the force.

You begin choking her out, the guards shooting at you.

But the bullets merely roll off you. Even with her enhanced strength, she was no match for yours and your rage. She tries using her powers but can't focus with the disruption of her air supply, and she was starting to grow more and more desperate until—

"Let her go, or Benjamin dies."

From her left, Fredrick holds up a small remote. "One button and they kill him on my orders. They're not all as durable as you, we have our ways. Release my wife now."

Reluctantly you drop her, and she crumbles to the floor with a gasp.

"Y-you fuckin-g, bitch." She stutters out, and you scoff, teleporting across a safe distance from everyone in that room.

"Clearly, you can't kill me anymore. And if you do kill him, I burn down everything the two of you have built, I can promise you that. I have more than enough fucking motive." You spit, watching him help her up, a pensive look on his face. He knew you were right. They both did.

And you'd found yourselves at a stalemate, having to make a truce.

They would leave you and Ben alone, wouldn't hurt him. You'd have to play nice with Vought, be civil in return. Especially in front of the public.

You were released to a small house in a designated neighborhood, the only people on the block being the ones who survived the trials. It's for public safety, they said. But you know it's actually about control.

The second the door clicked shut, Ben was on you. Pouring months of separation, longing and love into every kiss, every touch, every press of his skin on yours. Relishing in your shared strength, in how passionately you could get reacquainted with one another, without the fear of injury.

For him, it was celebratory.

For you, much needed affection.

And for just a week, you lived in tranquility—closest thing to it before this whole mess anyway. Then he got a call from home, about his brother.

He went to war with a heart full of grief. It's like a flip in him, switched. And he focused on his power, the things he could control.

You hardly saw him as the time passed, Vought having him run around for their propaganda and whatnot with the rest of the team, the one you weren't publicly a part of. Only working in secret, behind the scenes. You were too much of a liability, they'd be fools to give you the power of positive public perception on top of everything else.

Things were strange for you, lonely. You tried calling your parents, but they never answered. So you teleported home to check on them. To your shock, you were met with nothing but pure disdain and resentment from them both.

"You chose to be a whore, followed that man without a ring on your finger into something you were never supposed to be a part of, and now look at yourself. At what you've become. You were always difficult, but now, instead of someone honorable you're a complete and utter abomination."

Your mother's words would ring in your ears for the longest time—your dad's look of disappointment and disapproval cutting deeper than anything he could've added.

It only got worse back at the house after Ben returned. He'd gone on about how they were going to honor him with a parade, the love and adoration he was getting from his coworkers, from the public. He went on about Clara, how she was mentoring him into greatness.

After everything you'd gone through over the last few years, you couldn't take it anymore.

"What if we run away? Somewhere far, somewhere peaceful. Just you and me."

He scoffs. "You can't be serious, did you even hear me? Everyone loves me, I'm at my fucking prime sweetheart. I'd be crazy to walk away from it."

"It's a cage, Ben. A massively glamorized one at that." You raise your voice in frustration. "They will suck you in and spit you out at their own convenience, their support isn't genuine. It's selfish."

He clenches his jaw. "You don't believe in me."

"I'm the only one who believes in you."

His father's cruel words from earlier echo in his mind for a split second, and ain't that the truth. He shuts the little voice in his head up, getting angrier by the minute. "Then why are you so against this? So many women would kill to be in your spot. And I haven't even laid a hand on a single one of 'em, because I choose you."

Oh yeah big thanks for not cheating you think, rolling your eyes.

"This is all temporary, Ben! We're nothing more than glorified puppets, cogs in a machine we don't truly understand. Why can't you see that?"

"We didn't go through all that shit to sit pretty on our asses doing nothing. We're meant to do something with these powers. To be great. Clara gets that, why can't you get it through your thick fucking skull?"

"Shut the fuck up, don't even get me started on her, she's obviously playing with you. Tell me, how many times did she tell them to lock you in the radiation room, hmm?"

“It made me stronger—”

“It was torture—”

"You don't know shit—"

"I know enough. And I'm telling you Benjamin, these people don't truly have your back. They wouldn't even spit on you if you were on fire. Keep going down this path and it's only going to lead you towards a sad and lonely life."

He had enough, and you saw it in his eyes.

The moment he chose it all, over you.

"Well then I guess I'll get a head start and take my lonely ass to get some company at Vought HQ, with somebody who gives a shit."

Your eyes sting. "With Clara?"

He pauses, taking one last long look at you. "It's done. Go sing to animals in the forest or whatever the fuck it is you wanna do. Fade into obscurity. Meanwhile I'll be the most powerful man in this goddamn country. A proper, supportive dame on my arm."

Your lip trembles, but you don't give him the satisfaction of watching you fall apart. "Goodbye, Ben." You manage to whisper before you teleport away, falling to your knees and crying your heart out on a quiet beach moments later, far away from it all.

Nothing but the wildlife around to hear your sobs of despair.

He never heard from you again.

the present

Everything was fucked.

Just when he'd started warming up to the insufferable twerp, he finds that damn footage. Clara reduced to nothing more than a charred cocksleeve—he couldn't believe it.

Still, it's not his main focus. There were no leads on you.

You seemed to be a complete ghost, no record of you anywhere. He doesn't even know how Marathon knew of you, collector or not. Growing more frustrated by the day, he was getting dangerously close to snapping completely.

And then he got a ping from the strange rectangle they called phones these days.

Cleo; Bombsight will be at these coordinates, right now.

He finally had a goddamn location, now all he needed were answers.

Upon arrival he sees Butcher and his crew scattered around, Goldie in a wheelchair and the jackass from his past standing in front of her. With a single punch he knocks him back, rolling him a few feet away.

"Hiya Robbie."

"Ben." He smiles.

Soldier Boy side eyes the antsy crew for a moment, before turning his attention back in front of him.

Robbie had become a nuisance to him the longer they worked together. Jealous of his status, the attention he got, from the world and especially Clara. Poor guy looked like a kicked puppy when she let him down, sneaking off with Ben instead.

There was a mutual resentment built between them both.

Because while Robbie envied everything Ben was gaining, the simple fact that the former was adored by everyone, including you (considering how he'd left things) filled him with an ache and jealousy he couldn't name, can't explain.

It's completely irrational, but it's just the way he feels.

"You know how long I've wanted to smash in that pretty face?"

Ben smirks. "Buddy the queen sat on this face, it's a national fucking treasure."

Bombsight simmers with rage, twitching to punch the shit out of the smug bastard. Until he remembers, he has the upper hand.

"What's so good about that if you're gonna use it to be an asshole? What would Nova think of you?" He pulls a small pager from his other pocket, pressing the small button.

Ben rushes him in a fit of rage at the mention of you and they start trading blows, the impenetrable skin actually hurting his hand. They kept fighting, and a few series of strong punches push Ben backwards to his extreme annoyance. He breaks a pipe off the valve in front of him, ready to beat Robbie with it, but as he brings it down it gets blocked by a sheer purple force field.

He looks over at Goldie but she's still sitting there, protected by it too.

Seconds later, a figure materializes into the compound with a purple glow, and for the first time in over eighty years, Ben lays his eyes on you once again.

You freeze at the sight of him, taking in your surroundings with caution. "What the hell Robbie—"

"I'm sorry, Goldie's in danger. I wouldn't have paged you if it wasn't serious." Those large sad puppy eyes are on full display when he talks about his love, and it softens you the smallest bit.

"Y'know I used your heart as the anchor for the bubble, it's covering her too. So freaking sweet, you absolute sap." You muse, rearranging the figures in the room with simple hand movements. Your fingertips and hair glow at the slight use of your powers.

You zap Robbie and Goldie next to each other, a good distance from the others. Standing protectively beside them, you finally acknowledge your ex in front of you as the whole room watches.

You both just, stare for a minute. Not only to think of what you wanted to say, but also to take in the features buried in memories. The good, the bad. The sight of him still makes your heart ache after all this time, his own thrumming with guilt.

He calls your name softly, and you shake your head.

"No, you don't get to do that. I don't care how much time has passed."

"I know," He starts. "I know. Just...where the hell have you been?"

Your eyebrows furrow. "Why do you need to know?"

"You just fucking disappeared. Vanished off the face of the fucking Earth with no goddamn warning. The team wondered for the longest time—"

"The team?" You click your teeth. "Or do you mean Vought? What, your precious fucking Clara wondered where her favorite punching bag went?"

"Ask Robbie, the whole team was concerned." He bites back, and you laugh in disbelief.

"Oooo shit's goin down." Sage mumbles to M.M. from the sidelines.

You step directly in front of him, and he shifts in his stance with slight uncertainty. "Ben I was ready to follow you anywhere. New, uncharted territory—I was willing to face it all because at least I had you."

He clenches his jaw.

"But it wasn't enough. You're right, I did fade into obscurity like you wanted me to." You throw his previous words back at him, and he swallows in shame, recognizing them immediately.

You continue, your voice starting to tremble the smallest bit. "I had nothing left." Your eyes shine with anger. "You choose that fucking psycho and your precious fame, my parents disdained me and I was too fucked up to fit into society anymore—"

"No supe fits into society—"

You scoff with faint tears building in your eyes, "But I never fucking asked for this! I was just a damn nurse, I only wanted to look after you. Because I loved you, because I cared. That vindictive bitch set me up. She didn't strap that asshole down, gave him everything he needed to jab me with that poison."

Everyone watches with different levels of interest—Robbie and Goldie with sadness for their friend.

"She fucking hated me; tortured me, laughed at me. I begged her to just kill me so many goddamn times, death had to be better than everything she was putting me through. But she'd just, mock me. Tell me I needed to adapt or die." You pause, looking down for a moment as you lower your voice when you say "And believe me, I've tried."

A stray tear makes it's way down your face at the admission, but you wipe it away with the back of your hand before it reaches your chin.

Kimiko can't fight the way her eyes water, even Butcher seeming a tad sympathetic for the new player in this game.

Before he could even ask, a thud lands a few feet away, and they watch as Homelander scans the room. The tension spikes, everyone suddenly nervous, and you eye the blonde man carefully, on guard.

"Well well, isn't this a fun little party?" He drawls, eyeing everyone with abhorrence, except you and Ben. He eyes you both with curiosity, before looking around the room once more.

When he tries diving to the frightened woman to the side, you shield her with a flat force field, and his eyes dart to you angrily. You simply stare him down. "All the people here, and you go for the human?" You deadpan, he bristles.

He gets ready to laser you and Ben snaps at him. "Don't you fucking touch her."

Homelander's eye twitches, a slow deranged smile slowly creeping onto his face. "Fine. Where's the V1?"

Soldier Boy clenches his jaw, but doesn't say a word.

"Alright. Don't tell me, it's okay. I'm asking the wrong guy anyway." He says, his tone a bit off. He sets his sights on Robbie, and you tense up in preparation.

"Where is it?" He asks, growing frustrated at his lack of response. He snaps, "Where the fuck is the V? I'll kill every single one of you until I find it god dammit!"

He doesn't make it two steps forward before you make your move.

You raise your hands and teleport everyone into a singular protective elongated dome to the side of the room, the sheer purple cover glowing in defense. You square up to the threat with a slight head tilt.

"You can try."

He snarls, diving to you in anger. But with a single punch to his face, you send him flying into the wall behind him. The room crackles with your energy, your hands and hair glowing softly—a bright vivid purple illuminating the compound.

Everyone watches in anticipation, Ben in worry. He never really did see you in action, never stopped long enough to ask what you could do, besides teleport. Guilt flares in his chest at the realization.

They watch as you zap to him, landing another hard punch, and again, and again, the last blow sending him back across the other side of the room.

You zap to the middle of the space between you as he dusts himself off, beyond livid. "You fucking bitch."

"Tsk, I've heard that one before. Try harder."

With a glare he lasers you with his heat vision, to his demise.

It hits you square in the chest, and Ben punches the forcefield in worried fury, but Robbie says "She's got it, trust me."

Overtime your abilities have only grown.

You're extremely durable—stronger than most, including fellow supes, you also excel in hand to hand combat because of it. You can teleport, as well as teleport others without having to touch them, and create protective shields/force fields similar to Goldie.

The irony of your greatest ability was in the words Clara would use to belittle and taunt you at your lowest. Adapt or die.

When you took yourself to space—to the moon—in your sadness after parting from Ben, and were completely fine, you realized you had the power of adaptability.

Guess your body literally took the words to heart.

A change in environment, any ability, power or force you're up against—you're able to counter it, adapt to it. The records of what they did to you were wiped by your hand a few decades ago, a stealth mission into Harmony to erase any trace of you for good from nosy minds.

So there was no explaining why your body developed to this for sure, why you manifested all this power. You destroyed them in a panicked episode before you could analyze them.

You just know the world should be grateful you're not an evil psychopath like the one's who tortured you. And the one you're fighting now, apparently. It doesn't take a genius to see something is clearly off with him, the eyes don't lie.

But they do shoot lasers sometimes, to which you counter. You hardly feel the burn on your chest, only seconds before you're lifting your hand and turning the red beams to blue from where it hits you, going back towards his eyes.

You're freezing the heat blasts (the lasers) slowly but surely.

His eyebrows furrow, confused. And he winces in pain. He tries to stop producing them, but because of your essential pull, he can't. Panic floods his system as the blue keeps bleeding into the red, getting closer and closer to his retinas.

The crew watches with baited breath and fascination; Butcher and Sage smirking deviously, the others watching in shock and awe.

"What the fuck." Ben mutters softly, and Robbie nods beside him.

"Yeahh, you do not wanna mess with that girl. Saw first hand how destructive she could get back in '99."

Ben wants to ask more but he focuses on the sight in front of him.

Homelander is on his knees, straining against his own eyes. He starts yelling and shouting in discomfort and anger, trying his best to do something but unable to overpower you. It's mere inches away from reaching his eyes when suddenly something from the side blasts you into the wall, catching you off guard.

The force field around the group stays in tact, and they watch as Homelander blinks hard, immediately flying off and away through the hole in the roof. Coward.

You groan slightly as you get up, dusting concrete chunks and powder off yourself, getting up to face a man in a white super suit with obnoxious padding.

Oh Father seizes you up, shooting a smile your way so fake you almost think it's plastic.

"Can't have you hurting our lord and savior now, can I?"

You squint in annoyance. "The fuck are you talking about."

Instead of opening his mouth to answer he just starts shouting his sonic scream at you, and you zap yourself away before it reaches. Unfortunately he simply turns his head in your direction too fast for you to teleport away again. The sound overloads your senses, you wince and cover your ears as the force field begins to flicker slightly.

Ben is beyond antsy, needing to do something to help you. But once more, Robbie assures him. "She's got it Ben, just watch."

You take a deep breath, planting your feet firmly on the ground before you start to glow. Your hair, your hands, your eyes, they shine the brightest as you capture the sound waves with your energy. And with a flick of the wrist, you shift it, so that he ends up absorbing his own scream.

Which causes him to burst instantly, chunks of him flying everywhere but you shield yourself too before any of it can hit you.

You're breathing heavily as you start to calm, the light emitting from you dimming slowly. Ben calls your name softly, and you give yourself another few seconds to try and stop your trembling before lifting the force field from around the group.

Their faces range from shocked to ecstatic to worried—Ben, Robbie and Goldie being the latter.

Fast steps lead him to you in seconds and you hold a shaking hand up. "I'm fine."

Ben still takes it into his own, holding it as he looks you over. He's getting flashbacks to that day, when he found you shaking and writhing in agony on the floor after the dosage. You know that's what he's thinking, you can see it in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He breathes, his voice full of genuine sorrow.

"I know." You counter quietly. Not cruel just, honest.

And you know you'll have to talk, about a lot of things, but for a simple moment you both relish in the feel of familiarity and old comfort—with your hand still held gently in his.

ben masterlist ᝰ. main masterlist

⋆˚࿔ end notes; soooo...what do we thiiiiink...🤠👉🏽👈🏽 personally this is my new favorite thing i've written <33 I had so much fun getting lost in it, though my qualms with how VR essentially took over season five still stand...lol. it's just fun to daydream yk :]

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