Billy scrabbled through the empty pill bottles on the kitchen counter, shaking each one until at last, mercifully he heard a rattle. He popped the lid and downed the contents.
The TV screen showed Homelander at a Vought rally, an overlord waving automatically-greeting his fans. Along side him stood Ryan, bedecked in a garish red, white and blue hero costume. The matching Cheshire cat grins sent shudders down Butchers spine.
He switched it off, the pain in his head was nauseating enough without having to watch that horror show.
He closed his eyes and sat still in the dimly lit room. Death was coming, he could feel it.
Billy smiled wryly, leant over and retrieved a half empty bottle of vodka. He didn't have to go quietly though.
Homelander stared at his reflection in the mirror. People had seen a part of him, a real part and they still loved him! Of course there had been some media spin, the demonization of the man he'd killed {some mention of mental instability and a threat of possible hidden explosives} Nothing now, he felt, could touch him.
The supe inspected his naked image. He felt strange without his suit. What was he? Hero? Villain? Deity? Maybe all those things. He was changed, someone's son now and a father. Homelander ran his had over his chest. Why did he still feel completely empty? There was an unfathomable darkness, an abyss inside. He had Ryan now and yes that made him happy... So why was it so hard to keep smiling?
Cold blue eyes stared back at him. There was no more time for self reflection, he had to get ready, yet another father son promotional event had been scheduled.