Work wasn't the calm and easy setting that everyone who popped their heads in our doorway was used to come Monday morning. A heavy layer of tension coated everything and it made it difficult to breathe, so I propped the door open - another warning sign that all was not right in the world of Dr. Taylor and William Butcher.

"This is new," MM's eyebrow was raised so high on his forehead that I might have made mention of it if I hadn't seen a similar expression on nearly every fucking face that graced my presence so far on the worse Monday of my life - and yes, that DID include every Monday that I had Homelander's self-destruct DNA code inside of me. He shot a look Billy's way and I steadfastly pretended I didn't notice. "So - uh, I've been working on Jane Kaboom." I nodded and he took the chair in front of my desk. "Here's what I find more odd than normal about Vought's file on her -"

I listened while MM told me how he compared the file I sent him of the supe I'd aligned with our anonymous head buster versus some random files he'd requested as a sample group. He explained that with our unknown element - her file was laid out differently, missing parts that didn't make a hell of a lot of sense to have absent, while the other files were filled to the brim with extra shit that no one needed.

"Are you saying Vought knows precisely who she is and is hiding her on purpose?" I tried to NOT sound as sarcastically unsurprised as I was feeling, but honestly, at this point I felt more Billy-like than ever before. "Why would they do it though?" She'd killed people on national television in the middle of a fucking hearing on why supes should or shouldn't be able to step into armed conflict.

"To cover their tracks, of course," Billy snarled and I fought to NOT look at him. "This is VOUGHT we're talkin' about, Ronnie," my eyes landed on my red stapler and I contemplated how badly it would really damage his oversized, condescending head if I DID throw it at him? "Never do anything without a fucking motive for hiding their own shit stains."

I was maintaining careful eye contact with my computer screen and MM had enough of it. "OK, that's it. What's going on?" Neither of us said anything. "Seriously, what the hell is going on between you two?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Billy's voice was quiet, clearly trying to shrug off MM's nosiness.

"Yeah, not buying it." MM didn't sound like he was leaving anytime soon. "Door is wide open. Ronnie isn't looking at you at all. Neither of you seem like you particularly want to be anywhere near the other -" I heard the chair he was sitting in make a noise I knew meant he was settling in and getting comfortable. "Spill."

"I'm the psychologist, Marvin, not you." I murmured, opening up my email and praying there was ANYTHING to focus on, but like the traitor that I knew my job could be there wasn't a damn thing there.

He snorted and tapped my desk to get my attention. Looking up, I saw him shaking his head at me. "Yeah, you are, but you're also pissed off at his stupid ass and it's making you both miserable." He nodded toward Billy's side of the office. "Let's talk it out, Doc." The reminder of Billy calling me that punched me in the solar plexus and I felt it all the way to my knees. "Saw that flinch, Ronnie, so come on -"

I wanted to argue with him, but he was right. Maybe what Billy and I really needed was a mediator. Someone who would sit between us and let us hash it out without picking a side - but was MM really that person? Looking into his face, I knew that for once beggars couldn't be choosers.

"Fine." I sighed. "Let's talk."

MM was looking at both of us, after the door had been shut and we both had unleashed hell upon him from BOTH sides about what we'd let come to a head during our visit with Ryan, like he REALLY wished he hadn't asked and then offered to mediate. Yeah, buddy, I thought that'll teach you.

"What you're saying," he was looking at me, because honestly I'd like to think I was the one that made the most fucking sense here. "Is that Ryan, a ten year old kid, asked some freaky fucking scientists from OUR fucked up government to test some inhibitor chips on him AND no one contacted ANY fucking adults to check and see if that was OK?" I nodded and was vindicated when he looked as disgusted and sickened by the mere thought of it as I was. "And you," he looked at Billy, "think this is somehow a GOOD thing, because it might give us a way to FIX the supe issue?" I glanced at Billy and saw him give the curtest of curt nods I've ever witnessed in my life.

I waited for him to - I don't know, grant me some kind of "YAY you're the winner in this round of coupledom fighting! Now Billy has to cuddle you and stop being an annoying ass." certificate.

"I think the bigger issue here is what are the two of you going to do about Ryan in general?" I stared at him, wondering what the fuck he meant. "Ryan -" he looked between me and Billy. "You know the TEN YEAR OLD boy that is willing to be a fucking science experiment on the off-chance some asshole who he shares a last name with will spend time with him?" I blinked at him. "DOCTOR Taylor, surely you get what I'm talking about -" Seeing that clearly I didn't, he shook his head. "Ryan Butcher lost his entire fucking life when Becca died -" Billy stared to speak, but MM held up his hand and stopped him. "I don't care how she died right now, Butcher. Ryan is a kid, he didn't know how to control his powers and he was lost and alone. And, being alone and lost, he did what he THOUGHT was right. He got rid of, or at least stamped down the shit that made him alone - his powers - on the chance that some asshole might come back and make him less alone." He was looking between us again and I realized he was right and I had known it and even thought about it, but I'd focused on stupid shit when the rage at Billy hit me. "So, I'll ask you two again - what are you two going to do about RYAN?"

For the first time in what felt like days, but was honestly only hours, Billy and I made eye contact. And I think we both felt exactly like we should feel - like complete and utter shits. Because MM was right, Ryan truly was the most important part in all of this - not the argument about what kind of mom Becca was, or why he allowed the inhibitors to be implanted, or even if the inhibitors should be a THING - no, the most important thing should be how to make Ryan's life BETTER, because honestly, if we didn't - chips or no chips - I'd hate for Ryan to end up with the same issues his sperm donor grew up showcasing.