First day back after a trying weekend, I chose to work on the personal report that I wanted to compile to keep track of Homelander's current misdeeds. Billy was still pecking away at the reports from meetings with supes that I barely recalled beside me. Between our steady typing, and the quiet conversations we had back and forth about what we wanted in each report (more, more, more details where Homelander was concerned, thorough, but less where the lesser known supes were concerned) the office was quieter than usual.

I was typing in the doctor's information when Billy asked me what I wanted for lunch. I squinted in thought and then asked for burgers from our favorite spot, but only if we could eat in the office. Standing meant I felt like I was wearing a diaper, and sitting kept that feeling at bay at least a tiny shred.

"Anything for you, love." He leaned over and kissed me before hitting the number on his phone and ordering our regular orders. After confirming he'd be picking them up, since they didn't have delivery, he hung up and checked his messages. "MM tells me that they've had more confirmed dead whereabouts unknown." I groaned. "Yeah, this V shit don't seem worth it, does it?"

I shook my head and kept working. Billy typed a response to MM and went back to his reports until he decided enough time had passed for the food to be ready without a wait. Another kiss and he was gone.

I was lost in the work in front of me, ignoring the tugging cramps and the feeling of more blood leaving my body. I felt warm, too warm for the jacket I'd kept on when I arrived at the office. Tugging it off, a glance at my arm told me I still wasn't steaming so I felt sure that the fetal tissue was the cause of my former embarrassing side effect. Blinking past a few dots that seemed to float into my vision, I stopped typing for a moment. Eye strain, I told myself, from staring at the laptop screen for hours now. Sitting back, I felt the cramping harder and fought against the worry building. The doctor said cramping was normal. That the bleeding was normal. And since I had a slightly more aggressive removal than normal, this all was normal.

Thinking that my diaper might need changing, I stood and felt a wave of vertigo hit me so hard that I wondered if I was hungrier than I thought. Holding myself steady with both hands on my desk, I willed the dizziness away as I felt a gush run down my legs. Shit. Before I could move to sit back down, or grab the phone, the dizziness grew into a full blown faint and I hit the floor as the darkness descended.

Snippets. That's what I heard. Pressure. That's what I felt. But the weight of the darkness was overwhelming and I couldn't, no matter how hard I fought, break free.

"Is it a complication?" Billy's voice, I would know it anywhere, even from my grave or heaven. Wait, was I dead? I felt a pulling sensation. A tug and a yank. Did that negate the dead idea?
"The test results, they don't make sense." A new voice, foreign to me, but concerned. That's good, concerned meant that they were at least trying to help me break free, right?

I couldn't really focus to keep track of time. The next time I heard Billy's voice he was closer. "Ronnie, you gotta fight this, sweetheart, you gotta open those gorgeous fucking eyes of yours and tell me to calm my fucking tits, because I tell you what, I'm gonna go fucking ballistic on his fucking ass." I tried, God did I try, to open my eyes and work my mouth to tell him to be smart, to not start a war until we had all our soldiers in line.

The next voice was another strange one. It was telling someone that a variant was used and until they found the right one, who knew what would happen? That sounded shitty as fuck. Noises that I couldn't place, more tugging and pulling, and then more nothing.

At some point, don't ask me for particulars, I managed to blink my eyes open. The glare of the lights overhead, the steady sound of machines working to do God knew what, and the steady beep of a heart monitor. That seemed like a good sign, the steadiness of the sound. I couldn't move, since I was hooked up to so much hardware that I wasn't entirely sure where it ended and I began.

"You're awake," I tried to smile at the sound of his voice, but I wasn't sure I managed, I felt so wrong. Then his face was above me and my breath caught, causing that steady beep to hiccup. "Calm down, Ronnie," his smile played on his lips and I knew he was touching my cheek even if I couldn't feel it. "Scared the fucking daylights out of me, becoming a habit, love."

I sighed, but couldn't think of what to say. What could I say? I had a million questions and I wanted to assure him I was fine, but was I? I couldn't move, I couldn't feel his hand on my face. What did that mean?

"They got you full of numbing shit," he offered, his eyes tight. "Got to keep you still while they work on-" he stopped and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Not supposed to boggle you down with all that, Veronica." I think my mouth opened, it must have because he shushed me before I could try to make a noise. "Your only job is to lay here and let the good doctors work. I love you, and-" he looked to the side, where I felt like someone was waiting, but I couldn't see them. "Yeah, I know." His eyes were on me again. "You're gonna go under again, love, best to keep you as-" I felt the tug off something pulling me away from him, my eyes heavy again, I missed whatever he said after, because the darkness covered me again.

The next time I heard anything it was a familiar if strange in the circumstances. "Dr. Taylor is extremely important, do you understand that?" A murmured affirmative came through over the ever constant beeping and machine noise that seemed as familiar as the voice. Mallory kept going, telling whomever she was speaking to that she wanted hourly reports on my progress, that she wanted to know how far they'd gotten and how much further they needed to go. Then the darkness pressed down again and I lost the world.

Blinking awake, who knew how long after the Monday that I spectacularly passed out, I heard Billy's voice but it wasn't next to me. And it sounded oddly confident and professional. Dear God, I was fucking dead! I looked up at the television that hung close to the bed, for who's enjoyment I didn't fucking know, but there he was. Wearing a plain white button down shirt, smirk nowhere to be found, he was speaking calmly to what I imagined was a bank of cameras and news reporters.

"The Office of Supe Affairs would like to confirm that one of our own, our head actually, is currently in an undisclosed medical center being treated for an attack by an as now unnamed superhuman being. Dr. Veronica Taylor, after being treated for the first attack, a violation that no woman should ever have the misfortune to experience, had complications brought about because of a second attack that was perpetuated by this suspect." I was impressed, he hadn't said 'fuck' once. And not a 'twat' or 'cunt' to be had. "This case is open and I will remind everyone that it is an attack on the very foundation of what created this office. A supe that will not play by the rules is a supe that will be punished to the fullest extent-" The television clicked off and I blinked.

"He sounds impressive doesn't he?" Mallory moved closer and smiled down at me. "Billy hated that I asked him to do that. But he did it after I told him that it would piss Homelander off so badly that he'd make another mistake, a bigger one." I wanted to speak but my mouth was so dry that I couldn't swallow. "Allow me." She grabbed a plastic pitcher and poured some water into a cup and added a bendy straw. "Take it slow, even with the feeding tube and the intravenous fluids, you still haven't had anything for days." I tilted my head to show her I understood and she placed the straw on my lips.

Taking careful, small sips, I waited until I knew I had enough moisture to speak. I swallowed carefully and took a breath. "Where am I?" I'd heard Billy's comment about an 'undisclosed location' and was curious.

"A private Vought lab." I nodded, happy that I had some movement. "Whatever it was that Homelander had that doctor give you, it wasn't normal Compound V." My eyes widened, but the conversation about 'variants' made more sense now. "They have access to the variations of the compound and could work on an antidote." Another nod from me and she held the straw to my lips again.

Once I was sufficiently moist again, I cleared my throat. "And have they? Have they found an antidote?" Mallory sighed and I felt a twist of fear.

"The machine you hear, the one that's driving me mad with the constant noise?" I smirked. "You're being given constant dialysis for now. Ronnie, they're cleaning your blood repeatedly while they try to figure out which 'variant' he chose." I sighed. "Progress has been made, but you're not in the clear yet."

"She's awake," Billy's voice was hushed, but then he was beside Mallory and his eyes were twinkling. "There you are, beautiful." When his fingers brushed against my cheek this time, I felt it, the warmth of him. "I missed the color of your eyes, Ronnie." He leaned over the side of the bed and kissed my forehead. "Til they remove that fucking tube, I think I'll leave your mouth alone." My hand raised, and I was happy with the ability to move, touching my nose I sighed again. "It's necessary, love, keeps you fed."

Mallory said her goodbyes, telling us both she'd be in touch. "She was giving me the bare bones." I offered, as Billy pulled up a chair and took a seat so he could hold my hand through the grated bed guard. "Saw part of your press conference, Mr. Butcher." I bit my lip as his dimples came out beside his smirk. "I'm impressed, and to be honest, that shirt you were wearing?" He'd changed back into the printed shirt I was used to seeing him in. "I think if you wear that, I'll be more inclined to wear that dress you want on me so badly."

"Deal." He kissed my knuckles. "Bare bones? What'd she tell you?" I filled him in on the minimal information she gave me. He nodded, and I watched as he worked on ordering his thoughts. "From what the quacks are telling us," I shook my head. "When we evicted wee Homelander spawn from your innards, we took away the stabilizing agent that held the side effects of whatever shit he had that fucking imbecile shoot you up with." The steaming? I was trying to make sense of it. "When you steamed, it was based on how you were feeling, right?" I nodded, still trying to figure it out. "'Parently, the little genetic invader was acting as a stunting mechanism. We dug it out, your body tried to heal, and instead it unleashed the shit that the nugget was holding in check. The bleeding alone was enough to scare everyone, Ronnie, but the temperature? Inside and out, it was like you were going nuclear." Shit. "Took a bit of talking to me to get me to agree to allow these twats near you, but they seem to know at least a little worth knowing." He shook his head, his eyes looking haunted. "Found you in that puddle of fucking blood and-"

"Told you not until I'm sick of you, Billy Butcher." I offered, trying to smile, but fuck was it hard. "So how long have I been here and how long do I have to stay?"

The truth was I had been in the care of Vought for over a week. As for how long I had to stay? That was tougher to gauge. The doctors and scientists were working their asses off, but even with the intel that I'd gathered, they had their work cut out for them. Apparently, and this was completely confidence instilling, there were so many variations of failed Compound V formulas, forever tweaking the mix they might have lost count, that narrowing down which one Homelander had pocketed was next to impossible. And so, they continued to churn my blood in and out of my body, trying to keep the formula from regenerating, telling me that my levels looked good, but for now leaving was out of the question.

Dr. Veronica Taylor, ladies and gentlemen, newly diagnosed guinea pig.