Home. I drove up and saw how lit up the house was and my stomach did an uncomfortable backflip when I noticed that Billy's car was in the driveway. So much for him being out of town for a few days - thanks Mom.
Terror was looking far more energetic at returning to the homefront than I was feeling, but then again who doesn't prefer shitting in the comfort of their own space? Letting him out of the car while taking such a deep breath than I thought I might have sucked in one of his favorite lightning bugs, I hoped like fuck I was ready for whatever confrontation Billy was willing to use Mom's help to orchestrate.
Terror chased his bugs around the front yard as I took my time to walk to the front door. Stalling wasn't necessarily my style, but I had no problems tapping into it as I worked to push down the shitty discourse I unleashed with the simple question of what Joe had done to make our marriage unthinkable to my parents and the looming darkness of the methods Billy was willing to take to get to his ultimate goal of a world sans supes. And sans him - the twist that went through my belly warred against the flip it experienced on my arrival and a silent prayer rose through me that I wouldn't end up losing whatever lunch remained inside me.
"There's my boy," the rumble of his voice, forced my gaze to find his where he was standing at the door, waiting - for either me or Terror, but since his eyes were locked on me, I had to think Terror was safe to play with the lit up asses he was currently focused on. "And here's my -" he faded out, and left it hanging, whatever part of me was his, whatever that made me to him, just left empty.
"Here I am," it was lame, but we'd never really been awkward. Even when we were getting to know one another, the vibe between us wasn't awkward or strained, it was - well it was building to something more and better. And now here we are. Still lame, so lame.
We went into the house after Terror was promised treats and toys by Billy and so the rest of the lightning bugs were safe for the night. For now there was a truce while we got the bulldog settled with a fresh bowl of food and water, and a few of the treats that he might love more than defiling stuffed animals and killing insects.
The quiet was complete and absolute, aside from the sounds coming out of Terror while he devoured his food, drank his water, and inhaled those snacks. We waited it out, even when Billy unlocked the pet door that would give our four-legged - fuck, what was going to happen to Ryan?
"Your face was pale when you got here," he wasn't as close as he would normally be, and I was thankful for that, but he was just as fucking observant as always. "But it just got to the color of porridge and a part of me wants to know why, but another part -" he shook his head and looked away.
A flash of pain sliced through me, the distance between us making it grow, but I couldn't reconcile feeling for him while I knew he disregarded what he swore he felt for me to gain leverage and put him closer to his goal - while making his own demise a fucking reality that grew with every dose he took. Fuck.
"Ronnie," tortured, his voice was hushed and filled with pain as if he were being tortured and the only word he was willing to let out was my name. Damn him.
Swallowing down the piercing pain and my urge to comfort him, I stood up taller and met his gaze. "Mom said you were out of town for a -" And I let my focus follow his gaze toward the door we'd come in through. A duffle bag and his coat was waiting. "I see."
"Do you?" He wasn't coming closer, leaning against the kitchen island with his arms crossed over his chest, he forced my attention back to him. "What do you see?" Was he baiting me? Did he want a fight?
"That you're leaving," at least for a trip I added internally when he didn't interrupt. "Is this a trip that should have been approved through the office?" My own arms came up to mimic his pose, as I waited for him to push back, to give me something to go on.
"If it ain't, I'm sure you'll have your ways to see what we're up to," ouch, making it seem like I created the mess we're in by doing my fucking job. That was a low blow. "Thought I'd make sure you knew the house was free of me and my -"
"You cheated," his eyebrow went up, but I didn't wait for his counter argument. "You fucked someone else, after telling me that you love me," his mouth was tightly shut now, so I went on. "And you made a pact with the very devil that you swear no one can trust. An asshole that didn't just attack me," I knew that I was about to deal a low blow of my own, but fuck this. "He attacked your precious Becca," that did it, he pushed off of the island and was nose to nose with me, even if he did have to bend to make it possible.
"Don't you," his rage was coming off in waves that anyone with two brain cells would be able to feel. "Don't make it sound like -"
"Like it was never about us?" Not backing down, not while he was wound tight enough to explode, but I knew that I couldn't let him have it. The last word, the higher horse. Fuck him and that. "You, Billy Butcher, aren't doing whatever fucking shit that you're doing because of some gallant revenge for what Homelander did to her or to me." His eyes were so narrow that I wasn't sure he could even see me. "You are pissed off because he took and attached what you feel like belongs to YOU." He was breathing hard enough to suck all the oxygen from the room, but I wasn't done. "When did you decide supes should die, Billy? Was it when all those babies died from their parents ill conceived greed allowing them to be used as guinea pigs for V?" We both knew that it wasn't, especially since no one knew about that - "Was it when any supe actually hurt or maimed some random normie through whatever bullshit encounter that pushed them into the same space?" Definitely not, because we both knew when his mission to end it all became his obsession. "No, it was when Grace showed you a video of Becca," her name came out in a bite, "leaving a room she was in for HOURS with HIM. It was when she disappeared and everyone decided she killed herself. Cause we both know you sure as fuck weren't all that pissed by their existence when she took that job at Vought."
If Billy were prone to domestic violence, now would be when he hit me. I could see the pain and anger rushing through him and I knew that he was wound so tight that he could snap, but instead he stepped back, glaring at me like he didn't know me at all - but that was two of us. I didn't know this Billy - the one who would truly fucking lie about what he felt for me, or at least push it aside just so he could - well fuck him and fuck that.
"I guess that's it then," he muttered, back to me as he stalked to where his bag and coat waited.
And while it hurt to watch him walk away, I wondered if the hurt that would come when he died would match it.
The door slammed as he left, and I knew he left holes in the gravel as he hit that part of our driveway the growling of his car's motor told me as much - and I slid to the floor while I let everything that seemed to constantly build up - the pain and frustration that wasn't just from Billy and his actions - finally settled and my sobs brought Terror running. Or maybe he just felt like I did - that everything just snapped into a thousand sharp pieces and neither of us knew how to fix any of it.