The lights streaked in through the windows as Butcher drove down the highway in the dying hours of the night. There was no destination he had in mind, he was not even paying attention to which highway he was on, he just drove. The conversation with Hughie and the aggressive rejection of his proposal haunted Butcher to a point where he surprised himself. He found himself begrudgingly admitting having more of a connection with Hughie than what he had thought would be the case. Truth is, since his isolation after Becca's death, he had spent a lot of time with his own thoughts and in that time, he had found himself thinking a lot about how he treated Hughie. Today, as he stood in front of Hughie and tried to get him back on the "team", he was also hoping to rectify his abrasive treatment of Hughie in the past. But it was probably too late, and Hughie's reactions today told the story of that.
Almost by instinct, Butcher's mind was jerked out of the internal loop and back to the reality of the road. It was just in time too, because he slammed his foot down hard on the brakes as his car stopped within inches of the silhouette of a woman that had briefly lit up in the proximity of the car's headlights. However, the sharp braking caused Butcher's head to crash back into the headrest of his seat, momentarily stunning him. He stumbled out of the car, rubbing the back of his head.
"Oi, cunt," he yelled without turning his eyes up, "Find someone else's car to die under, would you?"
Instead of a response, he felt the person coming taking a step forward towards him. He forced himself to pay attention to her, trying his best to ignore the pain at the base of his neck.
"Call me that one more time, and I'll break you in half," the figure responded, prompting a sharper effort from Butcher to keep his wits about him. The voice was familiar, and not one he particularly wanted to hear at that moment.
Queen Maeve stared down at Butcher, her jaw hard with displeasure at Butcher's comment. For the first time in his life, in the face of apparent danger, Butcher took a step back. He felt a sense of fear creeping up his spine where the pain had magically faded away to the background. He had been faced with Supes several times in his life before, even at this close range, but for the first time ever, he was alone. No support, no preparation, no one else on this lonely road in the middle of the night, nothing.
"Queen Maeve," he said, gathering his wits about him as best he could, "am I supposed to bow, Your Majesty?"
"So, this is the mighty Billy Butcher," Maeve snickered, ignoring his jibe. "This is the man who's been a thorn in the side of the strongest man in the world and yet all it takes to bring him to his knees is a bumpy car ride?"
"Well, we can't all be unbreakable, can we? Some of us have got to have to remain human, or is that counter to Vought's agenda?" Butcher fired back with a smirk, as he shrugged his shoulders.
"You've got heart, I'll give you that," Maeve allowed herself a brief smirk at Butcher's response, despite herself. "But I hope you've got more than sheer pettiness and foolish guts if you're going to go after Homelander again. Especially when he's in such a mood," she continued.
Maeve's comment wiped Butcher's smirk off his face as an ashen look befell him. He had thought that he was being careful and covert in his movements to MM and Hughie, but evidently not.
"Oh, you didn't know?" Maeve said, recognizing the change in Butcher's face, "Vought has had its eyes on you the whole time, ever since you popped back up in New York."
"Well, I'm flattered," Butcher recovered quickly as the smirk returned to his face, "I suppose people do keep track of folks of interest to them. Speaking of interest, where's your happy romance? Did it have something to do with that face I saw splashed all over the telly? Something about America's favorite lesbian couple breaking up and the other girl jumping off a balcony?"
The allusion to Elena's death hardened Maeve's expression. She stared menacingly at Butcher, as he realized that he may have touched a nerve with that comment.
" You know," Maeve said in a low tone," you really ought not to piss off someone who can snap you in half."
"That makes two of us, doesn't it? I heard about the airplane footage on the radio looks like you also don't mind pissing off someone who can easily kill you," Butcher attempted to be unperturbed by the menace in Maeve's voice.
"There's another thing we have in common. We both lost someone we love, and in both cases it was Homelander's fault, " Maeve maintained the anger in her tone, though maybe Butcher could tell that it was more aimed at Homelander than at him.
"You're not here to kill me, are you? Vought didn't send you." Butcher was slowly catching on to Maeve's intentions.
"I don't give a fuck about Vought anymore. I just want to see Homelander in the ground. He will pay for what he has done to me," Maeve responded with raw rage in her voice, "And you will help me put him there," she continued, taking a step closer to Butcher.
Butcher quietly shook his head and extended a hand. Maeve met it, and the two shook on it in silence as no further words were necessary. As the first lights of the crimson dawn scattered off Maeve's costume, Butcher smirked.
I'm coming for you now, you star-spangled bastard, he thought to himself.
"Ah, Homelander. Come in, please," Stan Edgar's welcoming smile was not exactly what Homelander was expecting as he walked in to the CEO's office. "You've become a hard man to get a hold of."
"I don't like being summoned, you know. I'm not some secretary of yours," Homelander's tone reeked of frustration.
"I'm aware. If my secretary was being even a little bit as difficult as you've been, I would've long since replaced him," Stan continued with a smile, adjusting his glasses.
"If you've been thinking of replacing me, I'm not sure you're such a good businessman, Mr. Stan," Homelander continued with a laugh of his own.
"Oh, don't worry, I've not called you here to fire you. Though I must admit, your recent extracurricular activities have been quite expensive for the company," the smile seemed to dry up a little in Stan's voice as he said this. "We've had to spend quite a bit of money and resources on tidying up your messes all over the place. Lots of witnesses to buy, lots of cleanup crews to pay."
"Well, what can I say? I'm glad to be creating jobs for people in this company. What would they be doing otherwise? At least you're getting your money's worth from them. You should be thanking me," Homelander seemed to be taking all of this quite jovially.
" And then, there's this, "Stan said as he picked up the newspaper on his desk and passed it to Homelander. On the front page, there was a large picture of Homelander, with the headline "Bombshell video about Homelander does not land well"
"I'm assuming you've heard?" Stan continued.
"I can't say that I have, but I can imagine what plane incident it's talking about," Homelander said as he glanced over the article.
"Obviously, you can imagine how the people are taking this. They've been protesting outside Vought all morning. Neuman is supposedly on her way, along with Congressional leadership. It's not a good look at all," Stan's smile had completely disappeared by this point, as Homelander looked down from the glass windows to the massive group of people gathered below.
"Oh, I'm not too worried about it. It'll all blow over, just like last time," Homelander said as he turned back to Stan.
"I'm afraid it's different this time. I've received multiple calls from board members and some of our partners and all of them have been asking me to do something about this," Stan paused as he took a deep breath and clasped his hands behind his back. "I think it's best, Homelander, if you step away for some time."
"Excuse me?" Homelander was caught by surprise by Stan's words. " You're going to suspend me? Do you not know who the fuck I am and what I've done here?" he added with increased hostility in his voice.
"The last time you were in this office," Stan continued without paying much attention to Homelander, "you reminded me that your contract is up for renewal at the end of the year and threatened to move on, wondering what our shareholders would say to that. Now I'm telling you that per those same shareholders' advice, I've decided to not renew your contract when it expires. The truth is, " he turned towards Homelander and looked dead in his eyes, "that you've become more of a liability than an asset and your most recent spree of tantrums proves that more than ever."
Homelander stood speechless, grinding his teeth and seething in rage.
"Of course," Stan continued, "for your years of service to this company, I've arranged for a departure gift for you, one I think you'll appreciate very much." Stan walked over to his desk and pulled out a yellow manila envelope from his drawer. He handed the folder to the thunderstruck Homelander.
"What the fuck is this?" Homelander said as he opened the envelope. There were some photos inside as he pulled them out. "Why do I care about this stupid boat?" he said, pointing at the CCTV snapshot of a yacht in the first photo.
"If you look beyond the first picture, perhaps you'll find the answer to your question," Stan responded quietly.
Homelander flipped over the second photo. His expression immediately changed, all anger evaporating from his face as he stared into the picture with wide eyes.
" We received word that at a little after 2 am this morning, a group of men boarded this yacht at Baltimore harbor and your son, Ryan, was with them. We've not been able to identify the yacht or track its route, but I trust that with your newfound time, you'll be able to do that yourself," Stan allowed himself a light smile at the brilliance of his arrangement.
"Now, I believe time is of the essence and I suggest you get going," he finished. Homelander said nothing, as he silently walked out, eyes still fixed on Ryan's unmistakable face in the picture.
By the time Homelander got off the elevator in Vought Tower, he had gotten over the initial shock of finding Ryan. He was already planning his next moves, and the first step along that would be going to Baltimore harbor and figuring out what boat Ryan was on.
"Homelander," a voice called out. Normally, Homelander would not break his stride on such an important task at a random call out. But this was a familiar voice. A Godsend, almost. He stopped and turned around.
"Deep! My friend," he said with a wide smile. The Deep returned his smile with a wide smile of his own.
"How are you, Homelander? It's been so long since I've seen you, " he asked Homelander.
"Gosh, it has been a long time, hasn't it? We should sit down and talk," Homelander said as he put an arm around Deep.
"Ooh, right now? I don't think I can do that right now, I have a meeting with Mr. Edgar soon. He said something about a vacancy in the Seven and wanted me to get back. Isn't that exciting?" Deep responded.
Homelander tried not to think too much about the fact that the vacancy that the Deep was referring to was on his own account.
"Oh, come on, he'll understand. Two old friends catching up after so long, he won't mind," Homelander said, ushering the Deep into a small meeting room. There were a few people in there, who quickly left when they saw the two Superheroes enter. The last one to leave shut the door behind him.
As soon as the door shut, Homelander turned to the Deep and grabbed his neck. He raised him a few feet off the ground, as the surprised Deep flailed his legs and gasped for breath.
"Let's catch up, shall we? I'll start with a question, " Homelander said with menace. "Y'know, it hadn't occurred to me yet but seeing you made me realize, that plane they're talking about in the video, it went down in the water, didn't it? I've always wondered how Maeve got her hands on that video, from the bottom of the ocean. You wouldn't happen to know who helped her, would you?"
The Deep tried his hardest to break Homelander's vice grip on his throat but to no avail. He tried to speak but could not eke out any words. Sensing his inability to verbalize his thoughts, Homelander slightly loosened his grip.
"I'm sorry, Homelander. She said she would help me get back in the Seven," the Deep managed to get out.
"And you believed her? You honestly think you'll ever be a part of the Seven again? You're old news, buddy. No one gives a fuck about you anymore," Homelander said as he tightened his grip again. "Look at you now. Flapping and flailing for air like a fish out of water," he continued with a smirk.
A teardrop escaped the Deep's left eye as it trickled down his cheek and on to Homelander's gloves. Whether it was born out of physical pain or the hurt caused by Homelander's words, he could not tell.
"But I'll tell you what, I'm better than Maeve. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to let you go and, if you do something for me, I'll make you a promise I intend to keep," Homelander's sinister smile spread across his evil face.
"You're going to ask your fish friends to track down a yacht that left the Baltimore harbor this morning. On that boat is my son, so it's important that I find it. I need to know where it is by the end of the day, or I'll find you and burn you into a crisp and then feed the bits to the fish and sharks. How's that sound?" he said.
The Deep did his best to nod in agreement. Homelander let him down, as the Deep collapsed to his knees, drawing big breaths.
"Now fuck off," said Homelander, as he walked away.