A/N: Sorry for vanishing the last few days.
I wanted this chapter to feel like an episode from the Boys itself. Hopefully I succeeded. We've also got a Language warning. This might get upgraded to M, and soon. I'm all caught up with the latest episodes, and just...wow.
As ever, the Embers rule remains.
If people don't like this story? If they don't enjoy it? Well...I'll not continue it. That's no joke, folks. I'm so busy these days with two jobs; basically, I don't have time off. Not anymore. My free time is limited and as such, I can't afford to focus on something folks don't like. Reviews keep me writing in these times, and keep the daily updates flowing. Silence...silence only hurts. I hate having to beg for feedback, but without it...well, it feels like I'm not making an impact.
Now for your questions, comments, and concerns.
Q: Naruto does know what Black Noir means, no? It is essentially black, black, in English and French.
A: Yes, and Frenchie's gonna take the piss out of him for it.
Q: Naruto's giving me vibes from the Lucifffffffffr show.
A:...Hmm? That's a thing? Guess I'll give it a watch. Ought to be fun.
...well damn. I've dipped a toe into it. Now I've got a few ideas for some scenes.
Q: How in bloody blazes does he know Butcher? Fucking diabolical.
A: As stated, Naruto wants the Seven dead and gone and buried. As to how he and Butcher are pals...well, that involves SPOILER and SPOILER not mention SPOILER. One mustn't forget SPOILER of course, because not a soul would think SPOILER could be involved with SPOILER. Just wait until SPOILER arrives in all her sparky glory.
Phew! Had to redact that answer pretty heavily. In other words, read and see.
Q:...just how much has the timeline changes? Because even with Naruto's masquerading as Noir, there's no way in hell he'd put up with what Vought is/are doing.
A: You are correct, sir!
Naruto's been working as Noir for YEARS now. And I do mean years. Naturally, while some things remain the same, there's been some changes. Now some of those changes come to light.
I'll not spoil them up here. That would ruin the fun!
Q: So can we have a list of who's in the Seven, both past and present and future? I mean, Lamplighter, season two and all...
A: While I can't speak to future members, sure, you may have your list. Noir -Naruto!- has been a busy boy. Excluding him from this list, we have:
Homelander = Active.
Maeve = Active.
Starlight = Active.
A-Train = Active.
Translucent = Active.
The Deep = Currently Comatose.
Lamplighter = (Revealed in the story)
Q: Wait, wait, wait! Surely Naruto/Noir didn't let Lamplighter do...well...you know...
A: Can't say. You'll have to read and see.
Q: So is Naruto working for Mallory and the CIA in this, or...?
A: Yeah...no. Alliances are one thing, but he doesn't trust this mission to anyone but himself and possibly Starlight at this time. To paraphrase the great of Mordin Solus, "Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong."
Alright, then! That's enough questions! I think I've kept you all waiting long enough, no?
As ever, I own no references, quotes themes, or memes. Not a wit, not a one!
They're all tributes to legends far, far greater than I.
There we go. Disclaimer over. Hope you enjoy~!
Minor verbatim from the Boys.
"See, that's what Noir does. Scorched earth.
Shock and awe. Blood and bone.
He's a real pal."
~Homelander.
Getcha Hands Dirty
"Welcome to the Seven."
Four little words. A simple set of syllables. Nothing more, nothing less. They should have comforted Annie. Brought her some semblance of peace to her fraught state of mind after what she'd suffered.
They'd given her a sleepless night and a crippling headache besides.
Now come dawn, she found herself standing before those doors once more, knowing full well who awaited her on the other side. Had they seen the footage? What had happened to the Deep? It had barely been twenty-four hours since her harrowing ordeal; since the footage was released, since she'd been taken aside and rigorously questioned for her part in it. She'd seen neither hide nor hair of the Seven since. Not a single member. Not even Noir.
And now she was expected to face them? Alone. She couldn't do this!
A hand lapped her on the shoulder. She yelped and immediately flung an anxious look that way, fearing the worst. Imagine her surprise then, when she found Black Noir stood behind her, silent as the grave. When had he arrived? He hadn't been there a second ago. She'd not even heard his footsteps. When she turned to look at him fully, she glimpsed a tiny note held between two fingers. A single word lay scrawled within:
"Breathe."
Starlight nearly laughed outright. Breathe?! Easy for him to say! He was the one planning to overthrow the Seven. That took nerves of steel. Oh god and she'd thrown her lot in with him. Had she made a terrible mistake? Deep aside, surely the other members of the Seven couldn't be as bad as he said they were...
.
..
...could they?
Noir pivoted a little, turning to face her fully. Although his mask reflected nothing, Annie thought she saw something there, a spark of empathy behind his gaze. An actual spark. His other hand came down on her opposite shoulder, squeezed for all of a nanosecond in what she could only assume was a reassuring pat.
Then he held up the note again and mimed a slow inhale, followed by a long exhale.
Oddly enough it gave her confidence. He should've been in there with the rest of the Seven. Instead here he was, offering her his silent support...even if she knew it wasn't silent at all.
No, no. She was reading into things again. Focus.
"Alright." having him here bolstered her courage, if only a little. "Alright." she repeated word as much for her sake as she did his. "I'm okay."
Black Noir flicked her a thumbs up, moved to stand beside her, and offered her his arm.
Annie found herself quirking a brow despite it all. "You can't be serious."
Noir only tilted his head. For someone reason, she found herself reminded of a fox. Strange. Still, she wasn't about to enter on his arm. Noir must've realized it too; because he lowered his arm, and fished out his notepad once more. A quick skrtch-skrtch-skrtch of his pen and he had a message for her to see:
"United front. Less likely to bully ya if they see you enter with me."
Something in her bridled at that. "I understand, but at least take me to dinner before you try holding my hand."
Noir didn't make a sound. He didn't have too; because he'd just perked up like an eager puppy. Up came the notepad again. "Sure~!"
When he stepped forward she followed in lockstep with him.
The doors parted for them.
And she saw.
"There you are, Starlight." Homelander himself turned away from the window, smiling like the sun. "Wouldn't want to be late to your first official meeting. I had a whole welcome speech planned...oh?" he trailed off, that same smile taking on a quizzical fashion now as he beheld Black Noir sat her side. "Well, well, well. Made a friend, have you?" if anything that grin only broadened. "Didn't think Noir was your type." those keen blue eyes swept to her erstwhile ally. "Good for you, buddy."
Heat hit her face. She hoped it didn't show.
Her gaze raked across the room. Homelander, Queen Maeve. Translucent. A-Train as well.
They were all there...all of them, save Deep. His empty chair spoke for itself. One of the Seven. Gone. Just like that. She hadn't expected anything less, but still, there had been a part of her that feared he would be here, staring at her with that insufferable smirk of his. But he wasn't now, was he?
He'd kept his word.
"Didn't know he had a type." A-Train snorted.
Maeve rolled her eyes. "Ashley's gonna lose her shit."
Homelander made a noise of bemusement. "That's our Noir. Always surprising us."
Oh, god. This was not happening. Not even a minute in and they were already cross-examining her.
Remember what he said. Breathe. Don't let them get to you...
Starlight forced herself to stand her ground, even as Noir stepped away, leaving her to fend for herself. His arm nudged hers in passing, spurring her on. But Homelander was looking to her now and she must attend. She forced herself to smile for his sake. "Sorry, sir. He was just getting me up to speed."
"Please, just Homelander is fine." the Leader of the Seven waved her worries aside. "By all means, take a seat."
"Can we get back to the matter at hand please?" Translucent whined, diverting their attention. "A bunch of assholes pirated my movie three weeks before release! We're losing profits here and I for one won't stand for...
A-Train physically slumped in his seat. "C'mon man, not this shit again. Nobody cares."
"Quiet, you! You're not the one who needs to worry about money!"
Starlight tried not to zone out as the meeting dissolved into pointless squabbling between him and A-Train; really, she did. She just couldn't help herself. Her gaze shifted to Noir, sat beside Maeve. The former gave her a tiny, sympathetic shrug. The latter...well, Maeve just kept drinking. Wasn't even ten in the morning, and she kept knocking 'em back...
"Hey, c'mon guys, stop." Homelander held up a hand, cutting through the fog of war. "What's Starlight gonna think, listening to us haggling over pennies?" he swept that hand toward her and she had to fight down a flinch despite herself. "We're the seven for God's sake. Whether we're out there," a thumb hooked over his shoulder toward the window, "or in here.
Silence fell over the chamber.
"Now," he spoke into it. "I'm sure you've all heard about the Deep's little...mishap last night. Needless to say, he's out."
Maeve knocked her glass back. "Stupid bastard. Should've known better."
A-Train shrugged. "Better off without him, I say."
"Such a shame."
"..."
Starlight twitched at the second-to-last one. Shame, Translucent said?! That sick bastard tried to...!
"Fortunately for you!" Homelander clapped his hands, eliciting a flinch from the lot of them. "Noir was there. He doesn't take kindly to that sort of thing. Never has."
Noir's gaze pinned Translucent across the table. The unseen hero glared back. "What? You got something to say, mute-boy?"
"...!"
"Quiet, you." Homelander silenced Translucent with a quelling look.
As she looked on aghast, Vought's greatest hero stood and circled around the table with crisp, measured steps. Her heart stilled. Surely he wasn't coming over here...he was. Her very soul stilled as he stopped before her chair. She couldn't even bring herself to breathe as he laid a hand on her right shoulder. If he'd seemed tall before he was outright imposing now, all but looming over on her.
"Starlight, on behalf of the Seven, would like to personally apologize for what you went through." he almost sounded sincere. Noir claimed he was a monster. What if he wasn't? "If there's anything you need, and I mean anything at all, my door is always open."
She inclined in a fractious nod. "Yes, of course...
Noir grunted.
"Of course, the same came be said of Noir!" Homelander added after a moment's pause. "He's a great listener."
Starlight gulped. Homelander had no idea. "Is he now...?"
"Y'see, that's what Noir does." he pivoted to smile at the man in question. "He listens. And then he takes action. I suppose you could say he's our enforcer. He takes this super hero stuff very seriously." his grin was almost boyish now, like an older brother speaking of their younger sibling. "Scorched earth. Shock and awe. Blood and bone, that sort of thing." his hand tightened on her shoulder and something dark flashed across his face, so quickly she could've sworn she imagined it. "He's a real pal. Couldn't ask for a better friend."
His words sounded kind. Encouraging, even. So why was Noir stiff as a board?
Did they know? Did they suspect?
"But enough of that!" Homelander's hand came away as he sauntered back to his seat. "What I do wanna hear, is who you saved this week." he held up his hands as he reclaimed his seat. "Who's up for that?" she didn't miss the way Maeve and A-Train looked away when he laughed. "Lets start with you, Noir! After all," a finger wagged his way, "You've been a busy bee this week, you little rascal! So? How many was it this time? Two hundred? Three?
Starlight's gaze sought their across the table. Noir didn't flinch.
Calmly, almost lazily, he plucked forth his pad and wrote something down.
Starlight's jaw popped open when she saw it. She closed it just as quickly. Those...those were a lot of zeroes.
"Not bad." As ever, Homelander was all smiles. "Little less than mine this time around, though." quick as a beat, those bright blue eyes sought out the rest of the team. "And how about you three, hmm? Maeve? A-Train? Translucent? Care to share?"
The silence was damning.
"Well?" Homelander all but hummed. "C'mon, don't be shy. Lets hear it!"
Maeve found her nerve first, knocked back another shot, and rolled her eyes. "Sixty-Nine. Happy?"
Translucent chuckled. Homelander skewered him with a stare. "Found that funny, did you? Go on. Share with the class."
No one could see the man's face, but even a blind man could tell he was seething. "...six."
Homelander clicked his tongue. "Tsk, tsk. Getting sloppy there. And you, A-Train? How many this week."
If Translucent had been humbled, A-Train was all but humiliated. "...none."
Homelander tilted his head. "None?"
Maeve leaned back with a smug smile. "My, my...
"Well, I've got that big race coming up and I've been training...focusing on that."
"No, no, no." Homelander wagged a finger at him. "No excuses. You can do better than that and you know it."
"Hey! Now don't go picking a bone with me just because I didn't-
Homelander quirked a blond brow his way. "Didn't...?"
A-Train clammed up. Starlight found herself rather reminded of a small dog she'd once seen as a child. All bark and no bite.
"Right." he sank back into his seat with a sigh. "I'll do better."
"C'mon, guys!" Homelander almost sounded dissapointed. "We need put on our A-game for the new girl. Show her the ropes! You've all been slacking. Not you though, Noir. You've been great." Homelander reached around and slung an arm around his shoulder as he faced those at the table. "Maybe you should all try to be a little more like him...ain't that right, buddy?"
Noir flicked him a thumbs up.
This time, his smile seemed purer, somehow. "See? He gets me!"
Annie wanted to bury her head in her hands. Just what had she signed up for?
Surely her upcoming patrol would be better than this fiasco. It had to be better...right?
...screw this, she needed to lie down.
(.0.0.0.)
Maeve cornered him easily enough.
It wasn't hard; Noir's little pet was eager to be on her way; the minute the meeting was over she made her excuses and all but fled to her room. Poor thing. Maeve almost pitied her. She'd been that way once; bright-eyed and bushy-tailed full of boundless confidence and enthusiasm. She'd wanted to save the world. Before reality -and Vought!- broke her. Starlight would learn sooner or later, just as she had so long ago.
The house always won.
Noir was broken too, she supposed, in his own way. Every day he went out there. Every day he saved lives, tirelessly, often to the exclusion of everything else. All without speaking a word. Homelander treated him like a bloody brother, all but named him his second in command. And for what? The mask never came off. Not in public, not here in Vought Tower, probably anywhere at all. Even after all these years, she still didn't know what he looked like under that damn thing. No one did. Stillwell and Edgar might, but if they did, they weren't talking. It infuriated her. Made her sick...
.
..
...or maybe that was the whiskey?
Perhaps she'd had too much to drink this morning.
Didn't matter. She was pissed, he was there, and she was going to have words.
"Happy with your new toy?" she called out to him as he signaled an elevator. "She won't last long here. Not with an attitude like that."
"..."
Noir flicked a lazy glance her way, but didn't respond. He never did. No matter how hard she tried to rile him up. Infuriating. She knew he wasn't mute, not in the true sense of the word. She'd heard him make noise before on their patrols. He just didn't speak. Made her wanna claw that mask off. See who he really was underneath. She'd never worked up the gall to try; to do so would answer her question once and for all.
Maybe today would be that day.
Perhaps, had Queen Maeve been sober, she would've reconsidered the enormity of the challenge before her. But she wasn't sober now, was she? She hadn't been for quite some time. Instead, she stole a glance over her shoulder. The halls were all but empty, save a few clerks. Homelander wasn't nearby. The others wouldn't give two shits. Noir was strong, but he wasn't that strong, surely. He was a quick bastard; bigger than her, too, but she remained confident in her strength.
Maeve took a step toward him. Steadied herself now, as the world swam around. Yup. She'd definitely had one too many. Didn't matter.
"Hey!" When the elevator doors parted with a soft ding, Maeve moved to block him. "You ignorin' me?"
Noir rolled his shoulders with a shrug. He was holding up something. That pesky pad of his. She had to squint just to see the word within, etched in big black bold letters:
"YES."
His peace said -written, really- the silent champion shouldered her aside as though she were no more than a child and stepped inside. Maeve stumbled; hell, she half-expected the sarcastic sonuvabitch to flash a wave her way, but no, he just stared at her, arms crossed before his chest. Waiting. Challenging her. As though he knew exactly what was going through her head. She imagined his mouth behind the mask, twisting in a smirk.
Damn.
Damnit.
Damn him.
Maeve's pride howled at her, demanding retribution. She slammed an arm into the gap. The doors parted with a pleasant him; she ignored it and bulled in after him. Someone made the mistake of entering after her. She snarled and swung back blindly, shoving away a woman who tried to enter after them. Her gaze sought his as the doors slid shut again, sealing them in together.
Noir didn't react in the least. He just kept staring. Straight ahead. As if she weren't even there.
She counted to three, then slammed the emergency stop button with her palm. The carriage slammed to a halt.
Here at last, he looked at her. Even that action smacked of scorn; as though she were a little girl being reprimanded by her parents for a tantrum. She felt weak beneath his gaze. He wasn't even looking down on her; to do such would've implied he felt something. This was different. He stared right through her. As if he didn't even see her. Not even Homelander looked at her like this.
It was too much.
"Why did you help Starlight that night?" she planted a fist on her hip and scowled up at him. "You never gave a shit about anyone here before. Not me, not Homelander, not anyone. Why now? What's so special about her, anyway?"
He didn't respond, and so she drew her own conclusions.
"Do you want her? Is that it?" Maeve scoffed at him. "Little miss country girl, all lost in the city. Must've been easy pickings for you. She probably fell right into your arms after you "saved" her the other night. Was she a good lay?"
That empty mask stared into Maeve's very soul. She could feel his scorn. It felt cold. Like she'd plunged into ice water. It was almost enough to sober her up. Almost.
"Answer me!" her fist thumped the wall beside his head, denting it. "Write something damnit!"
Noir reached for the elevator console instead.
"No." She batted his hand away. "We're not going anywhere until I get some answers." He reached again. She deflected him with a quick swat to the wrist. "I said no!
Noir sighed and fetched his pad. "Annie isn't the one I pity."
Then he flipped to a clean page. Wrote again.
"I pity you, Maeve."
Something ugly reared its head in her weary, broken heart. Pity? Her? She'd been in the Seven long before him. He was only here thanks to Edgar. She'd clawed her way to where she stood now, sacrificed so much, lost so much, given away pieces of her very self and he had the nerve to say he pitied her?
"Excuse me?" A disbelieving laugh bubbled out of her lips. "That's rich. Why on earth would you pity me?"
His pen scribbled a quick line for her to see. "You've given up on life."
Maeve felt her face twitch. She couldn't even deny it.
His pen returned with a vengeance.
"And for that, you have my sympathy. But leave Starlight out of this. She's not you."
The twitch became a spasm. "Maybe not yet." she forced herself to breathe, grinding the words out through grit teeth. "But she will be, sooner or later. Vought will chew her up and spit her out. Just like it did me."
A low wordless noise rumbled through the elevator. His shoulders shook. It took her a moment of watching him realize he was laughing. His "response" only confirmed her fears.
"You really think this is about you, don'tcha? Never has been. Get over yourself."
Maeve saw red, stepped in, and slugged Noir across the face. It was a good punch, she felt. Simple and clean, it crashed into his nose, smash his smug mug to one side. It felt good. So she hit him again. And again. When she went for a fourth blow, her arms shrieked in pain. She pulled back, alarmed to find her knuckles red and sore. Like she'd punched something incredibly hard.
Noir's head swung around. He wagged a finger at her. Maeve swung again.
Her fist slammed into an open palm. Five firm fingers clenched around her fist and held tight. Then he twisted. She felt something pop in her arm, cried out as he wrenched it behind her back, only to find said cry muffled against the elevator wall. Instinct launched her into a frenzy of motion; it availed her naught. He held her tight, all but pinning her with his body. Then he was moving, spinning around to fling her away.
All her training meant jack-shit in a confined space.
She stumbled forward, hit the wall, bounced off, and landed right on her ass.
Black Noir beckoned to her, making a come hither motion with his right hand. It pushed her right over the edge. Maeve lunged upright.
He pressed something on his belt. Out went the lights.
She had time enough to holler at him. "Coward!"
And then there was pain.
Something slammed into Maeve's chin. Her head snapped back, stars detonating behind her eyes. She was still reeling when a hand closed around her face and slammed her down. She flailed blindly, warding him away to shield her visage, only for a boot to ram against her ribs, leaving her folding in on herself with a gasp. Somehow she made it to her feet again - and instantly regretted as his fists pummeled her from every side. By some miracle she managed to catch one in the dark, then the other. He crushed her against the wall for it, forcing Maeve to arch her back lest he snap her spine.
He held her like that for a long moment and as he did, her anger gave way to something else.
She'd never been beaten this badly before. She hated him for it, and yet...
She smashed her lips against his, uncaring of the cloth. Noir made a startled noise and let her go.
Without warning lights snapped back on, and doors opened with them.
Maeve slumped against the wall, wasted and gasping for air.
He left her there, sprawled out on her ass.
She touched hand to her lips.
"Bastard...
(.0.0.0.)
Butcher knew pain.
They were proper mates, the two of them. Old friends. Pals for as along as he could remember. Anger and hatred twisting inside him, a burning need for justice-no, not justice. Vengeance. Had to be honest. He'd gone well past justice here. This was personal. He'd been this way for a long time now. Always had this rage inside him. Losing her...losing Becca...made it worse.
She wasn't dead-couldn't be.
His missus was out there somewhere, waiting to be rescued.
Butcher knew it. Felt it in his bones, he did. He'd do anything to get her back.
Which led him to this seedy little superhero bar in the ass end of nowhere, waiting for fucking Black Noir of all people.
...the hell's taking him so long?"
A long suffering sigh escaped him as he checked his watch for what felt like the umpteenth time this evening. He'd been nursing a drink for the last five minutes now in this private booth, and seen neither hide nor hair of the silent Supe. And so he waited. Again with the waiting. Always, always, always, with the waiting. He was starting to think it was a kink of Noir's or something. Didn't matter.
He'd been on pins and needles ever since he got that text.
"I found her. She's alive. Meet me at the usual place. Tomorrow. Midnight."
Mallory said he was alright. And maybe Noir was, after what he'd done for her grandchildren. They'd be a proper pile of ashes if it weren't for him. Wasn't everyday you had a Supe like that on your side, let alone a mole in the Seven. Proper useful. Butcher would never admit it of course. Supes were Supes. Always had been. Always would be. If one went rogue, that was no concern of his. How did the saying go? The enemy of his enemy was his friend...or a convenient meat shield. Meh. One of the two.
But if this git was messing about with him...!
His phone chimed. Butcher flicked it open. Two words awaited him in a singular line of text.
"Behind you."
Against his better judgement, Butcher pivoted in his chair, craning his neck back.
A soulless black mask gazed into his eyes, mere inches from his face. It wasn't there a second ago. Hell, he hadn't even heard the booth door open. It was like he'd just...appeared in the room. Materialized from thin air like a ghost or some sit. Bloody smoke and mirrors. A faint wisp of smoke threaded away from Noir's body, bleeding away into nothingness as he looked on. Had he imagined it?
Anyone else would've flinched in such close proximity to one of the Seven. Billy merely quirked a brow. "Had ya fun?"
Noir made a faint noise behind his mask -might've been laughter?- and slid into the seat opposite him.
Butcher offered him the bottle. "Thirsty?"
The laughter died.
"Right, sorry," he sneered. "Forgot about the mask."
None of that pomp and circumstance shite from this one. Noir was a killer through and through. Right sneaky bastard too. Never said a word. Never took off his mask. How he'd managed to tiptoe around Vought this long, Butcher never knew, but the picks hadn't cottoned onto him yet. Maybe they never would. He almost pitied the bloke that tried. Noir wouldn't go quietly. He'd once seen him kill a dozen men with his pinky finger. No guns. No pencils. Just one finger.
His little freakin' finger.
There were times when he wondered if this bloke could kill Homelander.
Butcher was a hard man, but he wasn't stupid. No point in pissing off their golden goose...yet.
"Right, to business then." he steeped his fingers and laid his chin atop them. "Saw the news about the Deep this morning."
Noir nodded and flicked him a thumbs up.
"Bloody good work." he granted him a grim grin. "Never liked the little shit."
With damning footage like that, Deep would never see work in New York again. Maybe not the entire country. Too bad. So bad. In a single stroke Noir had disposed of a long-hated rival and simultaneously elevated himself in the eyes of the public, while endearing himself to the new girl. Not much information on that one yet. Simple country girl. Seemed nice. Probably wasn't.
They never were...
.
..
...shite. Nerves were getting to him. Again. He was stalling. Man up, Butcher.
"Right, I'm here." straightening up, he leaned back against the padded wall. "You're here. Out with it. You seen my missus?"
Silence pervaded the room.
Butcher growled into it. "You're a right cunt, you know that?"
Noir didn't say a word. He just sat there. Staring at him. Cheeky prick.
"Fucks sake." Billy flung up his arms. "Look mate, I'm not in the mood. If you're just going to faff about then I'm out of here-
Noir pulled something out from behind his chestplate armor. A manila envelope slid across the table. Butcher caught it with one hand. Trembling fingers fumbled with the clasp before he gave up with a growl and tore the damn thing clear open. Papers hit the counter. His eyes raked over them, drinking it all in. And then he saw the pictures.
Funny how a few photographs can break a man.
Just a few tiny pictures.
...heh."
A lump rose in Butcher's throat and he choked on it alongside a bitter laugh. There she was. His Becca. She hadn't aged a day. Didn't take much to guess who the little lad with her was. Spitting image of Homelander with a bit of Becca in him. No, no, don't worry about that. Whoever, whatever the runt was, he looked normal. Harmless. If he wasn't...well, that was a bridge he could cross, or burn, later.
He raised his gaze fixing the silent Supe with a stoic stare. "...where did you get these?"
Noir regarded him for a long moment.
Butcher thumped the table.
"ANSWER ME!"
The masked Supe made a noise akin to a sigh. He held up a hand, five fingers splayed in obvious intent. Wait. Then he plucked something from his belt. Set in on the table. Turned a knob. The light in the room dimmed. A squeal of static filled the booth, low background noise buzzing in Butcher's ears. He growled and touched a hand to his head.
"The fuck is this? Answer me, you mute cu-
And then Black Noir spoke.
"Lower your voice."
It was enough to shock the rage right out his system. Fucking hell, the mute could talk after all. "Since when can you...?"
"Be. Quiet. Butcher. It took me ages to find these." a gloved finger stabbed down on Becca's image. "Vought's got your girl locked in one of their compounds, sealed up tighter than tuna in a can. Lucky for you, I happen to know which one she's in." he tapped a finger to his mask. "Homelander isn't aware of this...for now." that same finger tapped down on the boy's image. "I've been keeping him distracted. You're welcome, by the way."
...fine." he had him by the balls and they both knew it. "Alright. I'll bite. What the bleeding hell do you want in exchange? Bet its a doozy."
"Three things." Noir took his hand from the picture and pulled another from his vest. "First, I need you to help me find this girl."
Little asian lass? Difficult, but doable. "What's she to you?"
"The key to A-Train's downfall and Vought's dirty laundry." Noir's finger tapped down just above the picture with gusto. "I've put out some feelers, but nothing so far. I can't exactly go tearing through Chinatown without making a scene, even in disguise. Feel free to do whatever you need. Get your old gang back together if need be." that finger ground down now, denting the table beneath. "Whatever. It. Takes. I'll be keeping an eye on Translucent in the meantime. Might be able to give you carte blanche on other corrupt Supes, too. That's the second thing. Probably gonna need your help disposing of a few...bodies."
"Nothing simpler." Frenchie and MM could be convinced; hell, they'd come running if it meant a chance at saving Becca. "And the last one?"
"Help me put Homelander's head on a pike. Literal or figurative, don't care. I need him...indisposed for what a few day. Best have your girl out of there by them. Can't give him or Vought leverage. One last thing," Noir leaned forward then, and for a moment, he thought he saw bright eyes spark behind that mask. "Whatever happens, you take care of that boy, Butcher. Don't throw him away. He's as much a victim in this as you and Becca, he just doesn't know it."
"I'll give him a chance." Tch, bloody bastard read him like a book. "You do realize Vought won't let him go easily."
...leave that to me." Noir made to stand. "I'll keep digging. Got a meeting with Little Nina later this week."
"Little Nina? Fuckin' hell, Frenchie won't like that."
"Then don't tell him," came the retort as he walked away. "There's a lead I'm chasing down, and I need her for it."
"Wait."
The dark hero paused.
"Homelander." Butcher considered him for a long moment, trying to gauge his reaction behind the mask. "Why do ya want that bastard dead so badly?" he knew the pain in his voice all too well. "Who'd he take from ya?"
Noir inhaled slowly. Deeply. "My faith."
What was he on about? "Didn't take you for the religious sort. Care to run that by me again?"
"You don't seem to understand." Noir's retort was nothing short of caustic. "I used to believe in Heroes. I was one. And then I saw the heroes here, and I realized. Absolute power corrupts. Absolutely. I tried to do things the right way. The right way didn't work. No one wanted to believe that their golden son, their Homelander, was the devil incarnate. The world plugged its ears, ate Vought's shit and carried on just as it always had."
"Right, so you want the prick dead because Vought's PR department made a fool of ya-
"Not just dead!" Noir slammed both fists down on the table and snarled like a man possessed. "I want him gone; destroyed in the eyes of the people. Erased. He's everything a hero shouldn't be. No one should have the power he has, let alone the ego to go with it. So he's gotta go. They've all gotta go. Them, Vought, all of it."
"Even the new girl?" Butcher sniped back. "I saw the news. You were right quick riding to her rescue like you did."
Starlight was the chink in his armor. His weakness. He couldn't help but prod him.
Noir absolutely hissed. The temperature plummeted wit it.
"If she turns out like them, I'll kill her, too."
No hesitation. None.
"And what happens when they're all gone, eh?" here it was, the moment of truth. "You've been working with us for awhile now, and aye, you're proper useful, but what'll ya do when you and that lass of yours are the last Supes standing? What happens to us?"
"We won't be the only ones."
Ominous. That implied he was working to turn others. Butcher didn't much like the sound of that.
"Maybe we'll build Vought back from the ground up. Make them a legitimate company selling shoes or something." Noir rambled on spitefully. "Then again, I might just piss on the ashes and call it a day. Haven't decided yet. The aftermath can come later.
"Well, well, well." he couldn't quite keep the smile from his face. "Now you're speaking my language. What say we shake on it?"
Noir considered him for a long moment. "Swear to me." he said at last. "I want your word."
Cheeky prick knew him too well. "I swear on me brother's soul."
Lenny would understand, if he were still here.
Noir's arm slammed across the table and seized his palm. "Keep your word and I'll keep mine."
"She'll be safe in the meantime?"
"I've got people watching her. Homelander won't find her on my watch."
Butcher glanced down at Becca's photo again. "He'd best not...
A merry little jingle filled the air. Noir looked down at his phone.
"I've got to take this. I'll be in touch."
A faint rush of air had Butcher looking up with an baffled look.
Noir was gone. Only a wisp of fading smoke remained.
"Neat trick...
(.0.0.0.)
Hughie pocketed his phone with trembling fingers.
There. He'd done it. His shift was over in five minutes, now he just had to wait-
Tap-Tap-Tap.
He nearly rocketed out his shoes.
"Shit!" he rounded on Noir, clutching at his heart. "Where did you even come from?!"
The capeless-crusader brandished his notepad like a shield. "You don't want to know. Safer that way. The girl?"
"I haven't, ah, seen her." he held up his hands quickly to fend of the flat look Noir gave him. "But I heard these two guys talking about someone that sounded like her." When Noir continued to stare, he held out his phone for him. "They said something about a girl in a cage. Here, I snapped a picture of them when they weren't looking."
Noir leaned in, memorizing it. Hummed once. Nodded.
"Good work." A fat stack of bills thunked down on the counter, causing his eyes to bulge. "For your trouble."
"Again?!" Hughie pocketed it quickly, praying no one had seen. "Do you...just carry that much cash on you? All the time?"
Noir waffled a hand then clapped him on the shoulder with that very same palm. Nearly knocked the wind clear out of him. The embrace that followed actually did.
"Okay, okay! Ow!" his voice piqued in a yelp as he felt his ribs begin to creak. "Didn't take you for a hugger!"
His erstwhile -what was he, an ally? Employer? Hustler?- pulled back and gaze at him for a long moment. He nodded anew. Then he made for the door. Just like that. Barely even sixty seconds and already he was leaving. Almost didn't seem fair. He could do more. Couldn't he? This was something. He was making a difference.
"Wait!"
Black Noir stilled.
"Could you ah, wait a few minutes?"
Noir stared at Hughie. He stared so damn hard. Shit. Don't panic...!
"Its just...no one believes that I meant you." he faltered beneath that stoic stare. "Not even Robin. Its just, well, she's coming by in a few minutes...
Noir held up his pad. "Girlfriend?"
"Yeah." his heart swelled a little despite the impassive mask staring into his very soul. "She's the best. We've been going steady for awhile now. I really think she might be the one an'...sorry." He caught himself rambling a moment later. "Didn't mean to gush. Don't know what got into me."
Noir crossed his arms, leaned against the counter and settled in.
Hughie felt his heart skip a beat. "Seriously? You'll stay?!"
Noir granted him a brisk nod.
"Great! Thanks!"
A moment of uncomfortable silence passed between them.
"So," Hughie began, "You and Starlight, huh? How'd that happen?"
Noir grunted and smashed a fist into his palm. Once. Twice. Thrice for good measure.
"Right, right," wasn't hard to read his intent. "I saw that bit on the news. Who knew the Deep was such a creep?"
Black Noir made a commiserating noise and nodded in agreement. An awful idea hit Hughie then. He just couldn't help himself. "Guess you gave him a pounding he didn't expect, huh?"
Noir's head snapped toward him with an audible creak of leather.
"I'm sorry!" he raised his hands to ward off the blow he feared was coming. "I'm sure he was your friend, and I didn't mean-
The pad came up. "Good joke."
"Really?" his spirits soared. "Because I've got some more, well, if you wanna here them.
"By all means."
Four minutes ticked by in the blink of an eye as they bantered back and forth. Well, he did the talking; Noir mostly listened. It felt...nice. To just have someone to shoot the breeze with. No customers to bother him, no angry Gary to dump menial tasks on him; it almost made him feel human again. Like he mattered.
Soon enough, the shop door clicked open with a soft chime.
Robin stepped in. Saw Noir. Blinked. Her jaw clicked open. "Holy shit."
"I know, right?!" Hughie stepped out from around the counter, chest all but swelling with pride. "Told you he was real."
Noir levered himself off the edge and flicked a finger between the two of them. Hughie didn't need the pad to know the question.
"Yeah, that's her. Noir, this is-
"Robin Ward." she beamed and offered him her hand. "Nice to meet you."
Noir clasped her palm, sketched a little bow, and let her hand go. Nothing more. A consummate gentleman through and through. With that, Hughie felt a knot come loose inside him. He hadn't thought Noir would go after his girl, but seeing him be so polite eased his fears all the same.
"So you really signed Hughie's shirt?" Much to his amusement, she quirked a brow his way. "He won't stop gushing about it."
Of course not! Black Noir, for crying out loud! Noir flicked her a thumb's up too, bless his soul.
"So what brings you down here?"
Hughie exchanged a glance with Noir. Great. Ball was in his court.
"He's, ah, looking for someone in the city." Hughie coughed into a fist. "Missing persons case."
Robin quirked a brow his way. "And you're helping him?"
Noir clapped a hand on Hughie's back, spurring on another coughing fit.
That got her grinning. "Ohhh, I get it. You're like his sidekick or something? Is that it?"
Noir waffled a hand. Hughie did a double take. "Sidekick? Me? No, no, no." he waved his hands frantically. I don't have any powers or anything like that."
"Dunno," Robin didn't stop smiling, cheeky minx that she was. "This could be your origin story."
"Stop teasing me!"
"Alright. Lets go."
Hughie gulped. "Go...?"
"Not like I've got anything better to do today." she rolled her shoulders. "Always wanted to see a Supe in action." she flicked a look Noir's way. "That alright with you, big guy?"
Noir shook his head.
"C'mon, we won't get in your way. Scouts honor. I'm sure it would mean a lot to Hughie...
The silent supe shook his head anew, slipped past her, and walked out the door. The message was clear...
.
..
...Robin grinned. "We're totally following him, right?"
A woman after his own heart, this one.
"Definitely!"
It wasn't hard to track Noir; an outfit like that stood out in the city, and he didn't make a concrete effort to lose them on the sidewalk. In hindsight, Hughie should've found that odd; why would a Superhero bother walking at all? Perhaps, had he given the matter more thought, he might've avoided what followed. As things stood, he didn't.
More fool he.
"So," Robin said apropos of nothing as they trailed him. "Did you ask him?
"Who?" Hughie blinked out of his daze.
"Gary." she nudged him with her elbow. "You know, your boss?" Did you ask him for the raise...?
Urk. He'd forgotten all about that. Don't tell her about the money. She wouldn't understand. "Yeah, yeah, look it was a crazy day and he was super busy, but tomorrow for sure...
His girlfriend looked away. "M'kay."
He knew that tone. "What was I supposed to do? Kick his door down? Like Black Noir?"
The silent supe raised a finger ahead of them, all but flipping them off, and lengthened his stride. Right, super-hearing. Forgot about that.
A small smile touched Robin's lips. "I said okay...
"Yeah, but you didn't mean it.," he jabbed back. "Hey, I see the look, Robin I see it." a quick skip had him just a pace ahead of her. "C'mon.
"I'm just saying this is like when started dating." Ooomph. Sucker punch. "I had to ask you out remember?"
Hughie wilted, but managed to rally. "Excuse me for waiting, you ever hear of chivalry?"
"This isn't about chivalry." she jabbed a finger against his chest and paused, one foot off the curb. "Its about you getting what you deserve Hughie. I'm killing myself at school because i think its gonna be worth it. For both of us. You know when we move in together?
"Hey, what?"
She didn't answer.
"Robin? What was that bit just now?"
"Well," Her face burned and she whirled away, mastered herself, and looked back, a coy smile lighting up her face. "We can't keep laying pipe at your dad's place forever, trying to be quiet, staring up at that dumb Billy Joel-mmph." her cut her off with a kiss, only she returned eagerly before finishing. "Poster. I know, I know, he's your favorite, but I'd appreciate a little loyalty.
Cheeky girl. "Hey, don't you ever besmirch-
Movement in his peripherals.
Black Noir was suddenly there between them, thrusting them apart with both arms. Robin hurtled across the street. Hughie crashed backwards to the curb. Pain lanced up his spine as stars -whole galaxies!- burst before his vision. He forced himself to grit his teeth and sit up, even as his back protested hideously. Robin? Where was Robin-
CRUNCH.
Something -someone!- struck Noir's extended arm with an awful sound and flipped clean over it, smashing into the ground. Distantly, he registered a blue-and-white costume. A-Train? Hughie barely even saw him. If he said something, he couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears
Noir appeared over him, hand extended. Thank god. A familiar face. Or mask. Not the point! Hughie clasped it and muttered a half-hearted thanks as the Supe hauled him to his feet.
He saw Robin them, sprawled out in the street, clutching her right side. What was left of it.
Oh.
Oh god.
God above, why?!
Bile rose in his throat. He choked it down.
"Hughie...?"
Her voice reactivated him.
"Robin!" he knelt quickly, pulling her into his arms. "Shit, shit, shit! You're okay! You'll be okay!" He said it for her as much as himself. "We'll get you to a hospital-
He didn't need to look to know what the doctors would say. She had minutes at best.
Fuck, ow! my leg!"
Behind them, he heard A-Train stumbled to his feet. "Who the hell-oh, shit. Noir?! I'm sorry man, I'm so sorry, I can't stop. I can't-
Noir stepped in calmly, serene as an afternoon breeze. A hand came down on A-Train's shoulder, steadying him. Rooting him in place. The punch that followed was anything but. Clenched knuckles hammered into the side of A-Train's head. The speedster dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Then he turned to face Robin.
Noir held up a hand. Laid it on Robin's ruined torso. He raised the other to his mask, a single finger held up for silence.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Shhhhhh."
It wasn't words. Not really. More like a slow released breath. Whatever it was, it did the trick. A flash of gold sang from his palm, visible for a split second. Nothing more. Robin arched her back with a gasp. Hughie averted his eyes, unable to see. When he looked back, she was hale and whole, just as it had always been. Noir kept a finger to his mask, making his intent clear.
Hughie drew Robin's trembling form into his arms and held tight as he babbled his thanks.
Just like that, things changed. And yet some...
...remained the same.
A/N: Ze plot, she thickens!
As ever, we're following the Embers Rule here. That's no joke. Really, it isn't. If folks don't like this...well, it won't be continued. Every bit of feedback helps. Reviews are the fuel which keeps me writing in these crazy times. With my tight schedule -two jobs!- I simply don't have time to write a story folks don't like. Without them, my inspiration cannot take wing and I can't write a word. So by all means, speak up!
So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...Review, Would You Kindly?
And enjoy some previews.
SPOILERS AHOY~!
(Previews)
"My blood's potent. It carries a little something called chakra. I could make an army if I wanted to."
...then what's stopping you from doing it?"
"Who's to say I haven't?"
...what the hell was that?!"
Noir closed the door behind him. Cranked up the radio.
"It must be a terrible thing, to live your life behind a mask."
"We all wear masks." She still couldn't see his face. He sounded almost amused. "All of us."
Starlight flung up her arms. "You're not going to tell me what you're after, are you?"
...safer for you that way."
He walked away with a spring in his step.
He eased open the door.
Popclaw stormed her way in. "Got anything to drink?"
Noir waved a hand toward his wine cabinet. She all but stomped toward it.
"See, this is why I like you, Noir. You don't ask any questions. Not like HIM. Fuck him. Fuck him and his fucking race and his fucking Compound V...
"Ah, my friend! It is good to see you again!"
Naruto smiled behind the mask. Frenchie would always be Frenchie.
Kimiko stared at a man in a mask. The man stared back.
He swept an arm toward her cell.
Held out a notepad.
"Open?"
She tilted her head. Wiped a hand across her grimy face. He wasn't speaking. Was he like her?
Butcher grinned down at the crater and the smoldering corpse within. "Ha! Got the bastard."
Nina tilted her head. "And what can you offer me?"
A bag of cash thumped down on the table. Her eyes flicked down to it. Back to him.
"Pity." her lips curled in a coy smile. "And here I had hoped for a glimpse under that mask of yours...
Crimson Countess held out her hands. "Please, Noir. I just need a little more. Just a little...I...I want to stay like this. In my prime."
Noir sighed...and held out the vial. It wasn't blue, or green, but a deep crimson, just like her namesake. She didn't know where he got the stuff. Frankly, she didn't care. All that mattered was that he cared; enough to keep coming back after all these years; enough to visit an old has been like her. A smile fluttered across her face. She surged forward, wrapping her arms around him, and laid a kiss on his chest.
"Thank you...
"I've done my research on you.
"Yes, well, your research may have been a little...inadequate."
...you can talk? Wait, no, no." he stumbled back, balking at the now-bent gun in his hand. "You shouldn't be able to taaaaaaaaaargh?!
"Hurts, doesn't it. What do you feel? Confusion? Disgust? Terror? I wonder if that's what they felt before they died. I mean, it can be quite jarring to discover someone's actually a monster...
"That face...you're not Black Noir. Not the one i know."
"Nope," the man smiled at him and clapped him on the back. "I am not. C'mon. I've got some spare clothes in the trunk."
"Wait." A hand gripped his arm. "Did you kill him?"
"Yup. Which brings me to my next talking point. This is your one and only chance, Soldier Boy."
"Chance for what...?"
"For redemption. For vengeance. Let's make it count."
R&R~!