“Pasito a pasito, suave suavecito…”A speaker zip-tied to the leg of a folding table was doing its absolute best with a song clearly in need of a much bigger sound system, the bass rattling tinny against the community center’s cinderblock walls.“Nos vamos pegando poquito a poquito…”
Regardless, it still did its best to capture the attention of the eight-year-old among them, Ryan clearly enjoying the chance to put his limited Spanish lessons to work as he deciphered the lyrics as best he could to a patiently listening Becca. Hughie stepped through the door behind Frenchie, Ryan and his mother at his side.All at once, he felt the weight of at least a hundred sets of eyes clock all seven of them, the twenty-eight-year old blinking back at them as the noise kept going. Wow, it’s more packed than the outside. That much at least made sense, considering the crowd outside was still setting up. In here, the party was already going. The banner over the entrance was soft and sun-bleached from what looked like at least several autumn events of exactly this — some sort of neighborhood gathering repeated enough that it had become a tradition. Folding tables lined the far wall in army-worthy numbers, sagging dangerously under the weight of massive foil trays steaming with enough food to feed said army; the heavy smell of several fried, roasted and well-seasoned meats wafting over Hughie. A stack of massive blue Igloo coolers sat sweating onto the floor near the edge of the basketball court as a half-dozen little kids ran in shrieking circles over by a half-inflated bounce house.
Through it all, a boombox and an actual bluetooth speaker were locked in some kind of unspoken volume war neither one was really winning.“Pasito a pasito, suave suavecito…”
Either way, the bass bounced off the scuffed hardwood of the community center, vibration humming a backbeat against the soles of Hughie’s sneakers as he stood there with six other people around them. As different as they were, every single one of them wore roughly the exact same expression.
Simply put, the deeply uncomfortable and highly alert look of people who very, very much did not belong in a particular room.
"Right, so..."Mother’s Milk sounded off past the blaring music, voice rolling over Hughie’s shoulder as Butcher finally caught up to them from where he’d parked the car — turning their group of seven into eight. “Frenchie, your people meetin’ us here?”"Oui, oui." That unlit cigarette was still hanging off his lip off pure habit, hands loose in his pockets like the four of them weren’t America’s Most Wanted right now. "My contact, she does ze paperwork. Very good work. Very fast."
Paperwork. He knew what that meant.
At the very least, he knew what it was for.“Buck up, lad.” Hughie turned to face a still beaming Butcher as a hand clamped tight onto his shoulder, the man wearing more open happiness on his sleeve than he thought possible. “Ain’t a thing to have the shakes about.”“Just…” Hughie shrugged his way out of the man’s grip. “Just worried about adding one more illegal thing to the day’s itinerary.”“Aye, that…” The other man laughed as he leaned in close, smile going a bit darker to something closer to normal. “Not like we’re the most illegal thing in this place anyway.”Hughie couldn’t even be shocked at Butcher’s humor at this point, a sigh leaving him as Butcher cackled. "Yeah, I get that much. I’m just saying, you think no one here is gonna— " A single hand gestured to the whole of them, all eight of their number who looked distinctly out of place at a Hispanic block party "—notice us? Like, at all? Because I feel like we're maybe not blending as hard as you think we are, man."“And what, bring the fuzz down on their heads?” Another cackle left Butcher as the man walked off.“You know, Petit Hughie…” Frenchie tilted his head as the tall young man sighed again. “He’s not wrong. In here, who’s gonna run to the police to investigate a strange face?”
“...I think too much, y’know.” The admittance was far from hard, a truth the rest of the Boys already knew as much as Hughie did. “Just worried about staying in public too long.”
"You leave zat to me, mon ami." Frenchie was already moving before Hughie could get out a follow-up, the shorter man weaving between folding chairs with easy confidence.“Dile que tú eres mía, mía…”
As much as Hughie hated to admit it, Butcher wasn’t wrong.Sure, everybody noticed them the second they cleared the tables, but nobody said a single word about it, which was somehow weirder than the opposite. An older woman in an apron just handed Hughie a paper plate loaded with rice and something that smelled incredible before he'd even gotten his mouth open or hands up to wave her off.
"Thank you.” He paused, head bobbing on instinct. “Um — gracias."
She just nodded and moved on to the next tray like feeding a bunch of sketchy strangers of varying ethnicity and age was just another Tuesday.
Frenchie had already peeled off toward the back of the building and vanished through a door marked STAFF ONLY, most likely to where his contact was supposed to be, while MM had Kimiko (and that meant Kenji too) close by the wall already; all three of them eyeing the exits on pure reflex.
Butcher had Becca tucked into a corner as Ryan sat a few feet away working through a plate of rice and chicken at a pace only seen in children and competitive eaters. "Can't take you back to where we were." The Brit didn’t need to bother speaking all that low, not with the music blaring and so many voices around them. "Not with Vought's eyes crawlin’ the place. Bring Homelander's kid through that front door, might as well paint a bloody target on the whole street."
"I know." Becca's voice came out tight, fingers clenched tight at her side. "I know, Billy. I'm not asking you to."
"Get papers sorted. Get you both south by tomorrow, no problem. Mexico, maybe.” Butcher's jaw worked. "Somewhere he can't just walk in and take him."
"He could-" Becca’s hand pressed tight against her own mouth, the woman looking like she’d caught the lie before it fully left her.
"He would." For once, there was no cruelty in Butcher, the man speaking facts with as much kindness as he had in him. "You know he would, love. That's why you called."
She didn’t argue that one, and didn’t even look like she wanted to as her eyes drifted toward Ryan again.
Hughie drifted closer with his plate, pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be hearing any of that. A short sigh left him as he ended up dropping into the seat across from Ryan instead, because at least there he had a job.Granted, that was apparently distraction duty but still.
"So, Legos, huh?" Safe topics, Hughie.
"Yeah!" Ryan lit up again immediately, looking up from his mostly-emptied plate. "I’m working on the whole Blind Side movie, remember?"
"Yeah, that's a big one. Respect." As much as Hughie didn’t understand the appeal, he still meant it, actually. The small normal-kid enthusiasm was an honest relief, even if it was going towards a stop-motion version of Sandra Bullock Oscar bait.“¿Y dónde está mi gente?”
The TV bolted up near the gym ceiling cut through the music for a second as somebody found the remote, volume climbing over a chyron scrolling red: BLUSHIFT SIGHTED AGAIN?
"Oh, hey." Hughie pointed a finger high without really thinking about it. "I actually know that guy. Blushift. We're friends."
Ryan's whole face turned up toward the screen. "That's cool."
"Yeah, he's a good guy.” Hughie nodded slow as he said those words out loud. “Actually a really good guy." “I wish my dad was a good guy.” The kid frowned all of a sudden. "But he's… weird."
Weird. Hughie sat with that word a second, turning it over and around in his head, because "weird" was definitely a word for whatever Hughie personally knew Homelander actually was.
Just not the one he’d personally use.
"Weird how?" "I don't know. Just weird." A small shrug came with the answer, the eight-year-old already looking back toward his plate. "He gets mad about stuff that doesn't matter. And he doesn't really listen when I talk."
"That's… yeah. That sounds weird.""Last time he visited…" The kid added, voice a little quieter than before "He came with the lightning lady."
Hughie's head came up fast, eyes cutting toward Becca before he could stop himself.
"Stormfront." Becca didn’t even look at Hughie as she answered the question on his face. "The day before everything happened at the Senate. He brought her to meet Ryan."
"That's…" Hughie's stomach roiled in a way that had nothing to do with the beans on the plate in front of him. "Why would he…"
"I don't know." Becca's hand found Butcher’s in a tight grip. "I don't know what he wanted her to see. I just knew I couldn't wait to find out."
“That’s when she called me.” Butcher nodded to himself, a smile on his face. "Kept the burner like I told her."
The feed up near the ceiling cut from Blushift footage to a studio shot and MM's voice sliced clean through the gym floor noise, someone actually turning to look as he spoke up. "Turn that up."
That same someone was quick to find the remote, the TV volume climbing just loud enough to be heard over the music. "—onfirming reports, Stormfront has evaded custody following last night's incident. Vought International CEO Stan Edgar made his first address to the press just moments ago."
The feed cut to the familiar unbothered face of Stan Edgar at a podium, the head of Vought wearing a calm smile like the whole building behind him wasn't currently on fire in every metaphorical sense. "Vought takes the safety of the public with the utmost seriousness and it is for that reason that Homelander, along with the remaining members of the Seven, are currently conducting an active search for the secretive villain known as Stormfront and whatever affiliates she may have within Vought, intent on ousting this shadow organization."
"Wait." It cracked out of Hughie before he could stop it. "She actually escaped? How do you even…”
He swallowed slow. “How does anybody escape from Homelander?"
Nobody answered that. MM's jaw was tight like Butcher’s as both their eyes refused to move an inch from the screen above them.
"Homelander is currently searching the entire country. And rest assured, there is no one that can escape from the greatest hero the world has ever seen. With that in mind…”
Edgar nodded slow.
"We ask the public to remain calm."