On the quest to ascertain what really happened to Rebecca Butcher, meeting up with The Boys was perhaps the stage Mallory hated most. Not even meeting old Stan and prying the truth from his lips had been this unpleasant.
This all had to do with Butcher. She’d rather go straight ahead and rescue the woman and her son without informing him, the husband. However therein lay the issue; that relationship is what started everything.
It was Butcher’s love for his wife that allowed her to recruit him in the first place. It was also that and their subsequent experiences on the job that transformed him into the worst version of himself, his hate for supes magnified into something Mason rightly pointed out.
Nevertheless, she did not keep him out of the loop. She lured Butcher with the videos of his wife and Homelander, planting in him the hope that he would get her back or if that wasn’t possible, then justice.
Today, she would fulfill that promise.
“Where’s everyone?”
The hideout was still in that same dingy building and it hadn’t changed a bit, apart from the missing people that is. MM, Frenchie, Hughie and that Asian girl were nowhere to be seen.
Mallory took it as providence. What were the chances Butcher would be alone at the exact time she came to him with such sensitive news? Coincidences? More like the universe cutting her some slack.
“Mucking about.” Butcher answered and flipped the page of his magazine. “What are you on about? Your flaming matchstick leave you high and dry is it?”
“Cut the shit. We found her.”
“Found wh—” Butcher paused when he looked over. There was a video playing on Mallory’s phone, but it was the face she wore that gave him pause. He tossed the magazine aside and focused on the video.
It was short, but it captured an aerial view of a large community compound encircled by towering, dark gray walls. There was a car driving along an empty road toward a house in the middle of nowhere.
When it stopped and the driver got out, the camera zoomed in on her face. Too stunned for words, Butcher came forward, looking back and forth between the phone and his old boss.
She gave him the phone and he rewound the footage to where it zoomed in Becca’s face. A rare sight took place as he covered his mouth, his perpetually dark visage cracking and giving way to actual emotion.
“I showed Becca’s last seen video to Mason and he pointed out a few things. I went to see Stan next and the boy was right. We always knew that Vought had something to do with her disappearance. But we were completely wrong as to why.”
Perhaps overjoyed by the first actionable clue to getting his wife back, Butcher managed to repress his disagreement with the whole idea of getting help from a supe. He instead played the video and saw who Becca helped out of the car.
The little boy clinging to his wife immediately set off a dozen alarm bells. His approximate age and how long Becca had been missing, the way they interacted in this short clip, and the strange way Mallory looked at him.
“No…” He said it, hoping she’d refute him.
“I’m sorry. It's true. The boy is Homelander’s so—”
“Don’t you dare fucking say it.”
Butcher rewound the video again, pausing on the frame where Becca’s image was magnified.
He just wanted his wife back. He also wanted to take a crowbar to the asshole who put his filthy hands on her, who kept her away from him for years, but he knew better.
Nothing took precedence over his Becca. Not even his need for revenge and definitely not the child of his worst enemy.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“Is that right?” Butcher handed the phone back.
“Oh please.” Mallory put it back in her coat and watched him start packing up. “You couldn’t hide it if you tried. You want to get Becca and Becca alone.”
“What? Huh? Am I supposed to care about some little twerp belonging to Homelander? Of all people?”
“No. You’re supposed to care about your wife and from what I’ve heard, she cares about that boy more than anything. There’s no way you’re separating them.”
“Yeah well.” Butcher racked the slide of his 1911 and thumbed the mag release. “I won’t know if I don’t try.”
Mallory sighed, asking herself why she even bothered.
“There’s something you’re not considering.”
That stopped the animated Englishman in his tracks. “What?”
“The boy’s father is Homelander. What do you think that makes him?”
Telling him this when he just admitted he wanted to separate the boy from his mother was certainly a choice, but she made it anyway. If she owed this monster she enabled anything, it was the truth about why she roped him into this mess all those years ago.
“You’re a fucking nutter.” Butcher’s response was as colorful as ever. “What makes you think I’m chuffed about the lad now?”
“I don’t care. I just thought you should know.”
“Okay.” He dropped the backpack he’d been stuffing and walked up to her. “Anything else you wanna knock off your mind?”
“We’re planning a rescue. According to Stan, Homelander doesn’t know the boy exists and he thinks Becca’s dead. If there’s a chance for us to get you reunited with Becca and the boy far away from Vought, it is now.”
They way she said that last part nudged at his operator sensibilities. “You’re afraid. Of the boy.”
“Not of him.” Mallory scoffed and looked away. “Of what he can become. He has his father’s powers. He tore his way out of Becca long before his due date. Vogelbaum’s the reason both of them survived.”
“Vogelbaum?”
“Setting Becca and the boy up in that place was his idea. By keeping him with his mother and having her raise him like a normal boy, they could prevent a repeat of Homelander.”
“Fucking bastard. I bet that’s not all he had planned.”
“You’re right. He was supposed to be a failsafe against Homelander when he grew old enough.”
Butcher smirked. “I see. That’s what this is about innit. You don’t give a toss about what I’m after or what Becca wants, you just want to bag a weapon against the flag wearing cunt.”
“No.” Mallory actually sounded offended, and it took him aback. “Can’t you see that I’m trying to help you? Vogelbaum believed we could prevent the boy from growing up to be like his father if he was raised right. You and I know both know he’s right. However it’s not enough.
God, you’re so neck deep in your hate you can’t see what’s right in front of you. When we get Becca and the boy out, they’ll be shipped to a secure location. No one will ever find them. You can be added to that list too if you want. You can finally get out, get your happy ending. And not just that, you can actually raise this boy right. Show him what a hero should actually be.”
Butcher scoffed and looked away but she yanked him back.
“Listen to me. You’ve seen everything that is wrong with supes. You know how bad they are. This is your chance to teach one of them while he’s still young. Show him right and wrong. And if you can’t do that, show him what not to do. What not to become.”
The “please” went unsaid as she let go of him.
“Think about it. Becca and the boy will be relocated tonight. Let me know when you make a decision.”
With that gigantic weight lifted off her chest, Mallory left the hideout while Butcher stayed behind, lost in deep and messy thoughts.
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With Stan Edgar out of the picture, Vought didn’t even wait a day before putting a replacement on his throne. Madelyn Stillwell was the only correct choice, so her transition, though still in progress, went on smoothly.
Her sudden climb up the corporate ladder meant her previous job had been taken over by Ashley, her former assistant. They were both in the midst of working out the kinks when Homelander barged into her office.
It was currently night and he lived in the tower, so his surprise visit wasn’t really a surprise. Frankly the surprise had to do with how long it’d taken him to get here. That boy couldn’t go one minute without his mommy.
“Let’s hold off on the contacts Ashley. I’ll call you back later.”
Madelyn set the phone down and took off her glasses. “Hey,” she smiled. ”What’re you doing here?”
Still in his suit, Homelander stood near the glass windows giving both of them a view of the dark skyline.
“I heard you were here and I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” She stood up and approached him, rubbing his shoulder.
“Don’t be. I can only imagine the workload. That’s why I’m here. To see if I can help you with anything.”
Their previous conversation about how he could help more popped up. As much as she wanted him to stop doing that, there just happened to be a pressing problem only he could solve. Permanently.
“There is…” He perked up instantly. “...something.”
These reminders about how she had him wrapped tight around her finger would be enjoyable and even arousing if she wasn’t so scared of him.
“Well? What is it?”
Madelyn shook her head and returned to her seat. She located a bunch of files on her computer and opened them for him to see. It was the text chain between Mason and Annie and a picture and video evidence of their meeting.
“Starlight.” Homelander forced out through gritted teeth. “That traitorous bitch.”
“Calm down.” She grabbed him by the forearm. “It’s not as bad as you think it is.”
“How is this not bad? She’s talking with the enemy. Colluding.”
She flashed him a mildly disapproving look.
“Okay fine.” He threw his arms up. “What is happening?”
“Starlight’s not important. We can keep her in line. Mason on the other hand…”
“Just say the word. No one’ll ever see him again.”
“I know. But we have to be smart about this. He’s not like other supes. He’s also got people in the government on his side. When the time comes to deal with him, we have to make sure it doesn’t blow back on us. Vought’s already close to the edge. A huge mistake, at this time, will definitely sink us.”
Finding it hard to maintain the image of a dependable aid, Homelander struggled for a bit before agreeing. “Okay. Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “What’s the plan?”
This plan was unnecessary. All he had needed was the location of that shitty little kid and thirty minutes. Thirty minutes was even too much.
“There’s not a plan yet but we know he’ll be out of the country in the coming week. The top brass of the military were impressed with his work on Flight 37 so they’re giving him more work.”
The “okay? How does this help us?” was plastered across Homelander’s face.
“It gives us time to set the perfect trap.”
“You want to lure him.” Light bulbs went off in the supe’s head. “Starlight.”
“Yes and no. Starlight… there’s not much between them for this plan to work. We need someone he’ll go to the ends of the Earth for.”
“And who’s that? He has no family.”
“You let me worry about that. When we get this person, we’ll use them to lure him to a secret location. Far away from any and everything and you’ll—”
“I kill him. He disappears. Vought becomes the only thing left against the supervillains and your position as CEO will be set in stone.”
“And yours as the leader of The Seven, the world’s most powerful superhero.”
There was a moan from Homelander when Stillwell cupped his crotch, having timed the action with her words.
“Pretty… genius plan.” The supe forced out as his eyes rolled up in the back of his head.
What she just described to Homelander was just one of the things she needed to address as the new queen of the hill. Their contacts in the right departments had informed them of The Deep’s upcoming fall from grace.
There was also the matter of Translucent and his unsolved murder, a problem tied directly to the current number of The Seven. Currently, there were only six of them, five if you removed Starlight from the equation.
They had to scout out new blood and also make up a suitable explanation for the invisible pervert’s disappearance. Madelyn had her work cut out for her.
That’s why she didn’t dump everything on Homelander at once and rather ended things on a “high note.”
She tapped into her years of experience coddling him and used that to put him to sleep quickly, leaving her free enough to focus on the mountain of new responsibilities.
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Her mother was always reading. It didn’t matter what the book was about, so long as it contained words and it had been published, she believed absorbing its contents could push her already sky high intelligence even further.
They were currently in their Switzerland estate, the solitude of the property and the wide stretch of land it sat on serving as heaven on Earth for her mom.
Marie was preparing to head out to civilization. There was a club she wanted to hit. Before she ran off and did things with people her mother would certainly disapprove of, she wanted to say goodbye.
Contrary to what most might think, her mother wasn’t at all strict. Probably because her powers technically made her an expert on raising children. Marie honestly didn’t know what to do with this and had long stopped trying to make sense of it.
Without knocking, she entered her mom’s room and found the ultra wide tv showing an episode of Love Island and her mother laughing hysterically while she munched on some absurdly huge shrimps.
It was one of those days.
Marie sighed and cast her gaze over the messy room and stopped on the table in front of her mother.
“Ugh…” She recoiled at the sight of the glossy Black Noir dildo, the tv remote, the brain drain inhaler, and the bowl of shrimps, all these unrelated things bunched too close together.
She shut the door and waved to Zane, who almost never left his post as her bodyguard, boy toy, chauffeur, all of that. He grabbed her shoulder and they appeared in an apartment her mother had purchased in her name.
In the unlikely case things went absolutely crazy and it happened that she needed to run, she had a place where she could do just that. She gave Zane a reluctant nod when she pictured the things he and her mother would be doing.
Thankfully, he teleported back right away, so he didn’t see her disgust.
While getting into club appropriate clothing, she found it hard not to think of the virus her mother had her tuning up. She trusted the woman completely, but the talk of genocide appeared to be her limit.
As always, her concerns were brushed away with confident statements of what would actually happen and what wouldn’t.
“That’s why you’re working on it Marie. If you succeed, you can control who lives and who dies with the snap of a finger. We can finally create the world we’re looking for. All the bad supes and evil pieces of shit gone, just like that.”
Having been on the front row seat to the shitshow of supe and upper class culture, Marie wouldn’t deny she found the concept unusually tempting.
She may have the face and build of someone three years older, but in reality she was a few months shy of sixteen. When coupled with her fake id, she could enter any nightclub, not like that was hard for any averagely beautiful woman or girl.
This wasn’t unique to her. There were plenty of other girls who snuck in the same way she did, and most often were often way younger than she was. Her powers were advanced enough to determine the age of someone.
Some came in with men that could be their older brothers all the way to grandfathers and others met these creeps in the club and left with them.
Her mother had forbidden her from becoming a costumed, criminal beating hero, but down in the clubs, where the loud music and flashing lights overpowered the senses, which of those predators could attribute their sudden lightheadedness, heart palpitations, or runny stomachs to her?
She wouldn’t delude herself into saying this was anywhere close enough to fixing society. The girls she saved by stimulating intense fear and disgust in their brains would recover from the artificial emotions and return or go elsewhere.
Still, her actions had an effect. Once she set eyes on a club, she’d frequent it for a few weeks and haunt the patrons till the number of young girls and old creeps dropped to an all time low, then she’d move on.
That’s why tonight’s outing destination was a new club. It meant new prey and new girls to save. Now imagine she had the virus ready. She could wipe out all the scum in a single night.
“Ugh… I hate it when she’s right.”