A/N: Wow, I'm pleasantly surprised by all the interest so far! Thank you!

There was a corpse of one of the most famous men in the country. In the Back. Of the car.

Unfortunately Hero Killer had called shotgun, which meant Hughie was in the backseat, closer to the fucking corpse.

He closed his eyes. This was just a bad dream. He was going to wake up alongside Robin, and they'd laugh it all off.

"You need to take a shit, son?" Butcher asked, looking in the back mirror. "You're all sweaty."

"What!" Hughie opened his eyes. "Uhh- no-"

"Oi, get yer mitts outta there!" Butcher snapped.

Hero Killer had opened up the cabinet and was rummaging around. She pulled out some biscuits that had seen better days. She shrugged, putting them in her mouth regardless.

"Fuck me," Butcher grunted.

"Uhh…" Hughie coughed. "So… where are we going?"

"We're meeting with an old friend of mine," Butcher replied. "Good bloke. He'll help us deal with the rest of 'em Supes."

And once again, reality hit.

"Oh god," Hughie whimpered. "We killed someone."

"I killed him," Hero Killer corrected.

"Let's not get into semantics," Butcher grumbled. "Point is, he's dead, and we're moving against Vought."

"Let them come," Hero Killer spoke up. "I'll kill them all."

"Take it easy, would ya?" Butcher asked. "We can't handle 'em all now."

"I can," Hero Killer replied. "I don't need your help."

"God, love," Butcher replied. "I don't think you understand what's really going on here."

"I get it just fine," she replied.

"Then which of 'em supes killed your sister?" Butcher asked.

Hero Killer shrugged. "I'll kill them all. I'll find the right one eventually."

"You from the villain clan?" Butcher asked.

"Are you?" she asked.

"I've been in with a lot of folks," Butcher admitted.

Welp, it didn't really surprise Hughie that Butcher was super shady. The guy had apparently worked for the FBI, after all. Both of these people scared him so bad, he almost wished he were the corpse instead of Translucent.

"So, are you from the villain clan?" Butcher asked again.

"No more questions," Hero Killer decided. "I don't trust you."

Butcher tilted his head. "Yet."

Hughie wanted to vomit at the thought of seeing any more of The Seven. He'd had enough of them in the past few days to last a lifetime. And he certainly didn't want to get involved in any of the clans. He did not want to end up being collateral damage, as so many civilians did.

Civilian… if he stuck with Butcher, would he really be a civilian anymore?

Hero Killer didn't seem bothered at all that she'd literally just killed someone. Then again, her name was Hero Killer after all. If anyone was going to be unaffected by murder…

"How did you?" he found himself asking.

"Huh?" Hero Killer asked.

"How did you kill Translucent?" Hughie questioned. "He has, like… titanium skin."

Hero Killer shrugged. "I stole his abilities."

"What…?" Hughie paled.

"That's my gift," she said, matter of factly. "I used his powers against him."

Ah, yes. Some folks had gifts. Many got it through artificial experimentation, whereas some were developed naturally. HK's gift was nothing to scoff at, that's for sure.

"Do you have a gift?" Hughie asked Butcher.

"Nope," Butcher shook his head. "Just bare-fisted knuckles."

Wow. For a guy who fought with just his 'bare-fisted knuckles', he was pretty tough.

Higher sat in silence with his thoughts. His head continued to throb. He had no powers, no fighting skills. Was it really a good idea to go up against Vought?

"Will there be food?" Hero Killer asked.

Butcher rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah…"

"Good," Hero Killer replied.

Welp, at least she had a simple mindset.

Some time later, the group pulled up by an old warehouse. Hughie just sat in the car in silence. His head snapped up when Butcher banged on the window, forcing him to come outside.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked.

"This is where the bloke is," Butcher replied. "C'mon, son."

Hero Killer was already striding ahead. The two men headed after her, entering the warehouse. Inside was a young French man, his head shaven, dressed in a black tank. A beautiful woman was hanging off him; she shot Hughie a wink. Normally he would've been flattered, but today he just felt sick.

"Oi, Frenchie," Butcher walked over to the man.

"Ah, Monsieur Butcher!" Frenchie grinned. "Bonjour! Long time no see, eh?"

The two shook hands. Hughie stayed in the background, gritting his teeth.

"That's Hughie over there," Butcher pointed at Hughie.

"Oh yes," Frenchie eyed Hughie. "I heard about your girlfriend. Very sad, no?"

"Yeah," Hughie looked away. He felt like he was in highschool, being leered at by the whole class.

"Ahh, Mademoiselle!" Frenchie leaned over, kissing Hero Killer's hand. She just stared at him, making no visible reaction.

"What is your name, ma chérie?" he asked.

"Hero Killer," she responded.

"Tres bonne, very… classy," Frenchie grinned with a nervous edge.

"Listen up, mate," Butcher clapped. "We're getting the gang back together."

Frenchie tilted his head. "Hold on, mon ami. You think we can go after them after-"

"Come and see what we've got," Butcher gestured for him to follow.

He led Frenchie back to the car, showing him the corpse in the back. Frenchie shriveled back.

"Translucent," he uttered. "Shit. How did you…"

"All thanks to her, really," Butcher pointed at Hero Killer.

Frenchie side-eyed the strange girl, who just stared at him, eyes leering into his soul.

"Pretty tough for a little lady," he chuckled, "though, not weak. I see muscle under there."

She was silent for a moment, scanning him over.

"Where's the food?" she finally asked.

"Um, guys…" Hughie spoke up. "What's this 'gang' you keep talking about?"

"Frenchie and I have gotta deal with America's favourite invisible wanker," Butcher told Hero Killer and Hughie, "and some other errands. We'll be back soon. Hang in there for the meantime." He drew closer to Hughie, lowering his voice. "Don't leave this warehouse, and stay close to Hero Killer, got it, son?"

Great. Hughie was stuck at this stupid warehouse with the scariest woman he'd ever met, with more questions than answers. He wanted to cry and cling onto Butcher's jacket, crying PLEASE DON'T GOOO but he'd embarrassed himself enough.

"Food?" Hero Killer asked, like a seagull.

"Help yourself to the cupboard, Mademoiselle," Frenchie winked.

And once more, that was that.

Hughie could feel the sickness again. He tightened the grip on his cup, forcing himself to take a sip of water. The coolness woke him up for a brief moment, before his mind became cloudy again. His eyes burned. He eyed the bleak walls, the piles of guns, machines, and whatever else lying around. Clearly, this Frenchie guy was a bit trigger happy.

He felt a buzzing in his pocket. He pulled his phone out, biting his lip.

Ah, shit…

Over 20 missed calls from his dad. Hughie sighed. Welp, no point putting it off.

"Hughie, where have you been?! Someone said a wacko drove into Gary's store and took off, someone else said some psycho crashed in, I thought you'd been hurt, or kidnapped… or human trafficked, or-"

Hughie grimaced. His dad's voice was shaking so bad.

"Dad, I haven't been human-trafficked, okay?" he assured his father. "I closed up early, it must've happened after I left."

"But where'd you go?" his dad asked.

"Just been drinking at Anthony's," Hughie replied. "Just blowing off steam-"

"No, no, I called Anthony," his dad argued, "I called everyone. No one's seen you. Don't lie to me."

Hughie grimaced. "Yeah. Um, listen, I gotta go."

"Hughie, please," his dad sighed, "look, I know Robin's accident hit you hard-"

"It wasn't an accident," Hughie ground out.

"Well, whatever," his dad continued, "you're a good boy. You're a sensitive boy. Come home. Please, before you do something-"

"I gotta go," Hughie hung up.

"Wait, Hugh-"

Hughie panted. He cursed, punching the sign behind him. He continued panting, sweat dripping off his cheeks.

He realised Hero Killer was staring at him. Not mockingly, not even curiously. She was just… staring. As if she were a statue. Quite frankly, it was creeping Hughie the hell out.

He looked away. "... did you want something, or…"

"I'm broke," she said. "You recently got a check from Vought."

"Are you serious?" Hughie sneered. "You think I'd actually accept a check from those psychos?!"

"Money is money," she said. "You could've spent it on ruining their organisation. Their money money used against them."

"Well, sorry for not being a greedy, capitalistic bastard," Hughie snapped.

She stared at him for a while.

"That money was to make me shut up about Robin," Hughie uttered, "as if she never existed."

Hero Killer turned away. "I need to piss."

What the hell is her deal?! Hughie scowled. And Butcher thinks she can protect me…

She came back some time later. Hughie looked away. He remembered Butcher mentioning Hero Killer's sister - a sister that had died a similar fate to Robin. He felt his heart swell with empathy. He'd been too hard on her.

"Um…" Hughie looked away. "I'm sorry. About your sister, I mean."

Hero Killer shrugged. It was hard to tell how she was feeling. She was staring ahead, her eyes empty of any emotion.

"I get it," Hughie sighed. "I mean, you know about my girl-"

"Shut up," Hero Killer told him.

Hughie raised his hands. "Whoa, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up." Hero Killer held up a hand.

Hughie made a face. "Look, you don't need to-"

KABOOM!

Hughie screamed, jumping back. Hero Killer stood in front of him. A young man stood between the smoke. He had fair skin, dark orange hair, and one blue and one green eye. A brown jacket covered his small form, a sadistic grin on his face.

"Chaos…?" Hughie asked, recognising the hero.

Chaos grinned. "Well well, looks like I finally found you… Hero Killer!"