Chapter 7: Communication
A/N: Season 3 of The Boys has finally been announced and I couldn't be more excited! Expect the Homelander fic in the coming months leading up to the premiere.
Parker lay comfortably on her side along the couch in her living room. It's nice to spend a Friday lounging around with nothing to do. She's bundled up in a soft Sherpa blanket with a purring kitten resting over her shoulder. In short, she doesn't feel bad for spending her day off doing absolutely nothing and she'd really enjoyed it thus far. Once she folds the blanket over her feet and rubs them together, there's a one hundred percent chance she didn't even want to entertain the thought of moving again.
It's not like she gets the chance to relax and unwind often. In fact, she considers it to be a recharged period, notably since she'd been putting in a lot of overtime at work lately. Ms. Donna practically had to beg her to take at least a day or two off as she feared the other women might start slaking in their own duties. The woman wasn't wrong to make the assumption - some of Parker's co-workers can be somewhat lazy when it comes to pulling their own load. It would be right up their alley to allow someone else to pick up their tasks.
For all intents and purposes, it seemed that Parker was fully committed to being a cat owner. Something she never thought was possible, especially in this stage of her life. She began the process by making sure the kitten had all the necessities that were needed to help her acclimate to her new home. Now that Parker thinks about it, it honestly felt like she was raising a child.
Admittedly, it wasn't as challenging as she first believed it would be. She's still in the adjustment period so Parker was willing to continue being patient. These things tend to take time anyway. Honestly, she hadn't really begun a solid routine with her but with enough patience and coaxing, one was sure to stick eventually. Regardless, Parker kept a watchful eye on the cat even as she explored the giant space around her.
Parker figured that Quinn would continue to explore the apartment until she grew used to her surroundings. She's just so curious about any and everything around her. It didn't matter what room Parker walked into, Quinn was usually trailing right behind her. Additionally, that meant that Parker would have to keep accommodating the little burst of energy she gets at random times throughout the day. However, there were a number of instances where Parker had to prevent her from climbing the living room curtains even though she hadn't exactly mastered climbing just yet. Although it probably won't be a problem when her claws begin to grow longer.
Cats are strange creatures by nature and Parker will stand by that observation for as long as she lives.
Parker learned quickly that the tiny feline liked to hide in strange areas around the apartment, some of which she would never even think to check. So it made sense for her to cat proof her entire apartment.
From her work, Parker already knew that giving a kitten or any kind of cat for that matter cow milk could cause digestional issues so she made sure to purchase specially formulated milk specifically tailored to cats.
The small kitten remains curious about the litter box but she hadn't actually gotten around to using it just yet. Parker also had to remain hyper vigilant of any little accidents around the apartment as a whole. She refused to have the house smelling like cat pee. Cat urine was much too pungent to be ignored and she could do without the smell lingering in random places of the apartment.
She's still a bit too young and easily influenced to go to the pet daycare though.
Feeding time had quickly become one of Quinn's favorite pastimes besides playing and napping. For her to be such a small kitten, she ate like a cat two times her size. After each meal, she'd taken to placing Quinn in the litter box and letting her sniff around in order for her to be capable of making the distinction between the two. For that reason alone, Parker's very careful about the quantity of food she gives the gluttonous feline.
At night, Parker kept Quinn in her carrier to prevent the cat from wandering and getting into things whilst she slept.
Not only that but Quinn's personality had certainly begun to shone through and she can accurately say that there's nothing shy or timid about her. Nothing about her disposition that indicated that she was under any sort of stress. So far her favorite thing to do was play with a fleece blanket that Parker had placed in the bed inside her carrier for her to sleep on.
Overall, she's turning out to be a loving, well-behaved cat and that's really all Parker could ask for. She hadn't gotten to the point where she started silently judging her owner's choices and habits. Cassidy was absolutely over the moon when Parker finally spilled the beans about Quinn. The woman was even talking about playdates between her cat and Quinn. Truthfully, Parker didn't want her demon spawn anywhere near her furry angel.
Bearing in mind that she's not supposed to have pets in her apartment, she's insanely careful about keeping Quinn's presence concealed from the landlord and any that would reveal said presence to the landlord.
Once she's gotten all her playing and exercise out of the way. The kitten gets tuckered out and looks for a comfortable place to nap wherever that might be.
She engaged in a lot more naps than Parker expected despite her technically still being a baby. She seems to look forward to her naps and doesn't miss a single one. That's probably why they're called 'cat' naps in the first place.
For the most part, Parker can't deny that she doesn't feel a special bond between her and the orphaned kitten she just so happened to rescue.
The furry feline was also becoming more accustomed to her scent and tended to enjoy curling up on Parker's lap. She adored any kind of human contact.
Parker pondered as she watched Quinn go to town on a ball of yawn on the floor. The way she playful pounces on the ball will forever make her smile.
Parker could always tell when she was tired as the contented kitty would rub her body against her legs until she was picked up. The high pitched meowing easily got her attention with no problem.
Her cell phone's screen illuminated with a call notification from its place on the small living room table. Once Parker caught a glimpse of the number, she waited patiently until the vibrating stopped and the notification disappeared. It was an action she repeated many times before over the past couple of days and she hadn't felt the need to cease. The facilitator had taken to calling her to get to the bottom of why she'd stopped coming to the session. Parker's reaction upon finding out that Vought was one of the group's main beneficiaries left more questions than answers. Sadly, Parker had no intention of answering any of those lingering questions.
There was nothing for her and the woman to speak further about and she wouldn't go back even if she desperately wanted to. The woman wouldn't understand - none of them would understand. Having to come to the crushing realization was devastating and in some aspects affected her recovery process altogether and finding out the way she did made it even harder to grapple with. That's why she could never go back.
The only thing she felt sorry for was leaving abruptly and possibly never seeing or speaking to some of the women she was able to bond with in the program. They were truly nice people and she credits them for helping her make significant progress in working toward healing from her trauma but it felt as if she'd carelessly walked out on them without saying her goodbyes first. Thanks in part to that group of women, Parker was able to live day by day without having an emotional breakdown or being overwhelmed by her thoughts and past experiences.
They essentially helped Parker realize that she wasn't as isolated and powerless as she believed herself to be. Though she wouldn't consider herself completely recovered, Parker acknowledged that she was in a much better place mentally. For the first time, she was able to put her experiences out of her mind and in doing so, it was heavily instrumental in her being able to go about her daily routine normally.
Under no circumstances did she want to end up back within that headspace - where she barely even trusted her own friends. At the very least, she could find another support group, preferably one that wasn't sponsored by the company her attacker worked for. Worse still, Parker had no idea if Vought was even aware of the circumstances surrounding her involvement with the group. If they didn't it would be very surprising.
The TV had been playing a low budget show she wasn't paying much attention to before the ultimately evening news started. Parker chewed on the candy bar indulgently - it was the third one of the day. Honestly, she was supposed to lay off on the candy intake but lately she just can't help herself. She lives for the surge of dopamine the chocolate provides her, it's probably why sugar was so addictive. The sweets did a perfect job at providing her the needed satisfaction. Recently, she'd gotten into Almond Joys despite initially hating the taste of coconut. What's even crazier was that she'd begun to favor the aftertaste.
As she shifts into an upright position on the couch, Quinn lets out a startled mewl and quickly climbs down to take up a more comfortable position near her legs. With a sudden sense of interest, Parker snatches up the remote and presses the volume button up enough to hear the broadcast better. She listened as the reporter began speaking.
"Gruesome details on a still developing story…the man found dismembered and stuffed in the trunk of his own car left in a popular nightclub parking lot has now been identified as Quentin Waller of Syracuse, New York. Police say there aren't any new leads but they will continue to investigate the crime."
In the middle of petting Quinn, Parker then froze, every limb going stiff and unmoving. A picture of the deceased man was being displayed and it felt as if all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. The picture being shown was a strikingly familiar face. She recognized it straight away as though it were burned into her memory.
It was him - the guy from the club that night. Quintin.
Parker leaned back against the couch cushions in a state of shock. In spite of the fact that it wasn't her first time hearing of the story, it was definitely the first time she actually observed just who the crime involved. None of that diminished the severity of what she just learned.
It was strange - to know that a random guy who tried his best to flirt with her in worst of ways had been viciously murdered that same night. She doesn't exactly know who she feels about it but it did leave a lasting impression. Naturally, she was unsettled by it especially since she could barely remember anything from that night.
The man ended up dismembered and stuffed in a trunk to rot. Someone really hated him to do something so horrific. She couldn't help but wonder just who he'd made an enemy of.
Perhaps the man attempted to try and pick up another woman whose boyfriend didn't like it. Some people don't play games about their significant others and he had learned that the hardest way possible. From the vibe gave off, she certainly wouldn't put it past him as he was definitely the type. She doesn't consider herself to be a spiteful kind of person but it was hard not to think the persistent asshole didn't get what was coming to him.
Although Parker's sympathy levels for him are exceptionally low on account of how he treated her that night, being killed in the manner he died from was beyond harsh.
Being dismembered and stuffed in his own trunk? Christ.
The whole thing was twisted.
Vought's party went underway as it usually did. Waiters are walking around with saucers serving the guests drinks and morsels of finger food. Various politicians, business associates, and more than a few high profile figures were invited to the event. Therefore it could automatically be classified as a political event that will likely go on for the next few hours.
For Maeve, it was nothing but a mass of scampering suits and cocktail dresses helping themselves to the copious amounts of alcohol offered by the company servers. Already, she'd downed about six glasses of champagne and was working on the fourth. She's been trying to cut back on her alcoholic tendencies but she couldn't resist the occasional drink every now and then. The liquor loosened her up enough to converse with some of the attendees without issue. She felt as if she desperately needed it to get through the night. In an environment like this, alcohol was supposed to flow freely. But still, Maeve found herself watching her intake. As an employee and member of the Seven, she can't do anything that might smear the reputation of the company and its image.
The general atmosphere was as stuffy as it could possibly be in one single setting. One would think the people with sticks lodged up their asses would all hate being piled into one big room. She's seen way too much to be fooled by these people. Most of them didn't care about the safety of the public - all they truly cared about was the prospect of making money.
She was well aware that the purpose of the reception was to coax the senators and state governors in attendance to allow the presence of supes into the military and persuade the other members of the committee. Madelyn might've set the precedent for it for the notion to be considered but in truth Vought still wasn't any closer toward that goal than when the idea was first introduced.
Most of the guests and clients were gathered around a pristine and regal Edgar, eager to pay their respects and discuss business.
She ignored the laughs and general chatter of the crowd, her eyes sweeping over the large room and its many occupants, noting the select few that stood out. Homelander, in all his righteous grandeur, was in the middle of giving a rousing speech to the governor of Maine. Others were standing eagerly in the vicinity for their chance to speak to the charismatic supe. Not that it was all that surprising - the enigmatic man just had a magnetism about him that pulled people in and made them want to follow behind him.
That's mainly what Homelander was about - being a reliable leader figure that people will blindly follow. Those same people have no idea that underneath the carefully crafted façade lives a deranged egomaniac. And this particular instance was a prime example of him hiding it well.
A-Train was nowhere in sight, something that was a bit out of character for him. The new girl…
From her peripheral, Black Noir could be seen standing just off to the side with a glass of champagne perched in his gloved hand. It was actually the first time she'd laid eyes on him in a while and seeing him in attendance was surprising. He made quite the sight fully clad in his dark suit especially given the type of event it was. It wasn't like he was expected to forgo it in favor of a tux, none of the supes were expected to dress formally. Even with most of the Seven still in costume, strangely he still managed to stand out. Come to think of it, he hadn't been seen much in the past few weeks. From what she's heard, Edgar's been sending him on extended, covert missions.
Without much thought or prompting, Maeve begins an even stride over to the silent teammate, who had turned his back away from the party. His masked head was angled downwards and she thought he might be taking a sip from the glass and didn't want anyone to bear witness to the act. It was only when she got closer that she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a photo in his hand. Once he became aware of her presence, Black Noir unhurriedly tucked the photo back into his suit.
Maeve immediately wondered if it was the same photo of that woman she'd seen in his quarters but she had no real way of knowing and unfortunately, she wasn't able to make out the contents of the photo before he hid it from view. She doubted he'd be willing to reveal the truth given his typical uncommunicative behavior.
Who exactly was that woman to him?
Frankly, there's not much about the other members of the Seven that interested her but she just so happened to take a particular interest in this circumstance. It's known that some of the supes still had loved ones but never once had Black Noir indicated that he had someone he cared for or showed interest in. For years, mostly everything about him remained a mystery.
"Hey. You enjoying the party so far?" It was a loaded question, one she didn't expect to receive an answer for either. No one really enjoyed these things.
As expected, there wasn't an answer provided. He stands stiff and unmoving, something that wasn't all that surprising given how partial it was to his normal behavior.
"Are you still not going to tell me about her?" She questions.
"Is she a relative? A friend? Something else…"
The subtle tension in his frame alerts Maeve that she might be onto revelation can't be too far off.
"If she falls into the something else category…my advice would be that you try and be open with her. She'll appreciate that more than anything else."
From Maeve's point of view, it felt weird giving him advice that he in all likelihood wouldn't use in the first place. As a matter of fact, she doesn't know why she's even giving to him. These days she doesn't know why she does half the things she does.
"If you can, show her what she means to you."
The masked cowl continued to survey the room and its mingling occupants. Luckily, Maeve knows him well enough to know that his lack of a reaction could still count as a reaction itself.
"Fine. Suit yourself." She shrugged.
She dropped the conversation as quickly as it started and walked away without another word.
After some time spent standing still in one spot Black Noir simply walks away.
Parker splashed the lukewarm water from the taps over her face one final time before switching it off. Eyes still clenched shut she felt around the countertop for the nearby face towel. Afterward, she gently began to dab the moisture from her face. Once Parker toweled her face completely dry, she reached for the tiny bottle of overnight oil and started applying it. The small bottle was expensive as hell but it worked wonders for her skin so she couldn't complain too much. The oil was basically the backbone of her whole routine. She couldn't just not let its purchase leave a dent in her funds. At this point, she's just resigned to a state of pliant acceptance about it.
When she finally leaves the bathroom she nearly steps on a wandering Quinn who had been exploring the expanse of the carpet just outside the entrance to the bathroom.
"Time for bed." She said to the pouncing cat.
Quinn might be receptive to everything but going to bed. Honestly, it shouldn't be that hard for Parker to coax her into her bed but that's the reality she deals with. She'll protest at first but once she gets settled on her blanket, she'd be fast asleep and soon Parker would follow her and do the same. She could wait to peel back the covers on her neatly made bed and settle in snugly.
There's only one problem with that plan and that's the dull ache imitating from her stomach notifying her that she was hungry again. Like most greedy people that loved food, Parker cannot go to bed on an empty stomach.
Did she really want to raid the kitchen one last time for food? She considers it carefully especially since she'd basically been eating junk food all day. She summarizes that one nighttime snack won't hurt, in fact she probably won't be able to sleep soundly without it. She tried to brush it off at first but the feeling refused to dissipate.
So with no pretense for hesitation, Parker saunters into the hall toward the direction of the kitchen. She didn't bother flicking on any lights along the way, having long since memorized the layout of her apartment. Her bare feet made soft noises against the cold floor of the kitchen.
Much of the food from the refrigerator required warming up in the microwave and she just felt as if it was too much work. Instead, Parker started rambling through the nearby cabinet. There's a range of snacks to choose from but it all depended on what she had an appetite for, which was nothing in particular. Thoroughly undecided she eventually settles on a box of cherry pop tarts. Pop tarts weren't all that in terms of what her tastebuds craved but they would surely help her hunger disperse.
She pulled a packet out of the box and it's at this moment that little prickles of awareness had begun to creep over her skin with the sudden unexpected feeling of being watched. The feeling had just come out of nowhere. She briefly thought about ignoring it but after everything she'd been through doing so would be completely out of character for her.
Despite the darkness of the corner, the outline of a hulking body could still be seen and the image horrified her beyond reason. Her entire body went numb all at once, the pop tart in her hand forgotten. Her heart didn't skip a beat, more accurately, it felt as if it had stopped beating completely. The sudden realization that she was not alone in her home petrified her. It was an image out of her worst nightmare.
For a moment or two, the figure in the corner did not move and neither did she. It felt like she was paralyzed out of fear
It took the figure to only move a fraction before Parker came back to herself and when she finally did, she bolted from the kitchen. Parker's feet pumped back to the bedroom as fast as they could manage. The thought of shutting and locking the door didn't even cross her mind in her blind haste. In her blind haste, she didn't have time to stop and think rationally. Not when she was panicking. She headed right for her phone on the nightstand, if she could just dial the number to 911 then -
Before she can react further, a hand wrapped tightly around her wrist, kneading the bone there. The resulting pain made Parker grit her teeth. The supe managed to snatch the phone from her hand and fling it across the room.
The ensuing scuffle soon ended with her unceremoniously falling to the floor in an overpowered heap. Parker hit the floor hard and pain radiated over the expanse of her left hip, not at all diminished by the carpet. Regaining her bearings, Parker immediately started backing away on her hands, fingers digging into the carpet.
He started to advance toward her with measured deliberation.
"What do you want? You were to attack me?" Parker's trembling voice was edged with crippling fear. "If you're here to kill me, you won't get away with it. I won't let you." She said resolutely.
He'd already gained forceful access into the apartment and she already knew what to anticipate next and her stomach twisted with dread. Though she tried to conceal her fear, she doubted that she'd be able to keep it masked. His mere presence felt like a threat in itself. In little to no time at all, he'd shattered her sense of safety and security.
Why can't he leave her the fuck alone? It couldn't be that hard of a thing to do.
He seemed deadset on terrorizing her for no reason aside from the glaring fact that he could. That made it unbelievably cruel.
This was what he did - break into her home and attack her before engaging in the most damaging act of all. She could only go by his actions and that's what he always did to her.
He hovered over her downed form, the dark visor displaying her reflection instead of his eyes.
A tiny mewl snapped her from her thoughts.
Quinn, being the ever curious creature she was, came up to sniff around the unfamiliar figure and every muscle in Parker's body tightened. She wanted to order the kitten to move away but her mouth refused to open. She was afraid that if she made any sudden movements, he'd react violently. He was too unpredictable to underestimate and she wouldn't take any chances. That feeling intensified when Quinn started rubbing her body against the man's legs.
He bent to pick up the kitten from the floor.
Parker's eyes widened in alarm and her heart leapt in her throat and stayed there. Just what the hell did he think was doing? If he hurt her cat, she'd personally see to it that she ended his life with her bare hands, frightened or not.
To her immediate surprise, the supe held the tiny cat with shocking gentleness. Quinn then began to mewling happily and rub her head against the gloved hand scratching softly behind her ears.
Parker watched the bizarre scene unfold as she sat huddled anxiously against the wall. The sight of which greatly confused her. She couldn't find it in herself to be upset at Quinn's reaction to him; she enjoyed any sort of affection no matter who it came from. Nevertheless, Parker wanted to dive in and snatch her away from the masked assailant.
But what purpose did he have to suddenly start petting her cat?
Black Noir was known universally for his mysteriousness and brutality towards his enemies. He was possibly the most feared member of the Seven besides Homelander. What he was currently showing her was a grave incongruity of his character and she was more than taken aback by his behavior. She only knows that there's a man underneath that tactical armor because she's had the displeasure of feeling it. Of touching his skin. Had she not, she would question whether or not he was even human at all. To Parker, he was more monster than human - his transgressions against her were proof of it.
Sheer anger was quick to overtake the confusion however. He'd shown her cat more respect and kindness than he'd ever shown her - not that she wanted any kindness from him to begin with. She just wanted him to stop and give her kitten back.
"Give me my kitten. Now." She hissed behind clenched teeth.
As opposed to ignoring the desperate request, Black Noir quite literally handed Parker the squirming kitten, to which the latter shifted her body away as so to thwart any further attempt at him somehow retrieving the cat.
Once Quinn was tucked safely in her arms, she nervously braced as the masked man began shuffling around his armor. It took a few seconds for him to pull out a shiny silver watch. The watch gleamed under the bedroom light and she could tell that it probably cost quite a bit of money. He extended it out to her.
The way he held it, it was like he was presenting it to her - almost like someone would a gift.
Parker turned her face away in a bid of unyielding refusal. "I don't want it."
He held the gleaming watch even closer to her face, almost as if he were trying to convey something instead of merely giving it to her without purpose. With the item just inches from her face, Parker took a brief second to actually look at it.
"I said I don't want it."
At Parker's refusal to take the watch, Black Noir laid it down within view on the carpet.
In her observation, she noted that it looked much more familiar than she cared to admit. At that moment, she'd had an epiphany.
The watch - she was sure she'd seen it before. In a split second, she was searching the recesses of her mind for a possible hint as to where she'd seen the item from. After a few weighted seconds passed, a very recent memory came to the forefront of her mind.
The man from the club that had turned up murdered - Quintin. That watch belonged to him.
She instantly felt like she'd been punched in the stomach; all the air just vacated her lungs.
That's where everything got clouded.
Wait. Did he…Was he responsible for - No. It couldn't be possible. She had to be overthinking things. If there was any truth to the presumption then it would mean that the supe had to have been there that night. He had to be in the vicinity of the club at the time of the murder to be in possession of the dead man's watch. But that would also mean that he was likely the one who killed Quintin Waller.
What would he gain from killing some random man he in all probability had no prior contact with?
In the end, there was only one common denominator. Her.
"It was you…you killed him." She whispered in pure disbelief.
For long moments, the two of them just stared at one another. One gaze melded with anger and fear and the other with blank and indecipherable purpose.
In a strange turn of events, Parker flinches as one of his hands begins a series of movements that oddly mirrors sign language. In fact, she's almost certain that it was sign language. She's fluent enough in manual alphabet to discern what word he'd just conveyed to her.
"Gift."
Gift. Supposedly, the watch was a gift to her.
She couldn't recall a time where he'd ever attempted to communicate anything with her. There was no communication to be had between them.
In a move that was highly unexpected, Black Noir begins to lean closer towards her and she tries to angle her face away as far as she can manage. The supe was not deterred by this, as a matter of fact continued leaning in until his forehead pressed against hers and she felt the cold surface of his visor on her skin.
The action was soft, intimate and indicated something that she did dare give a name to. It scared her. Most of all, it confused her. The sudden rise of emotion in her chest threatened to overwhelm her.
"Please…please get out." She whispered.
She didn't even realize that she was clenching her eyes shut tightly, likely in a pitiful attempt to keep any tears at bay. When she finally finds the courage to open her eyes again, he's no longer present.
Her heart is left pounding and confused.
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