Parley

There was a strange sensation, deep inside his head as consciousness slowly started to come back. It was familiar of course, for he had been exposed to being drunk multiple times, ever since Becca had been gone from his life. However, there was something strange about this one.

This specific occurrence, as his head was very much comfortably laying on something soft when normally he would be strewn across a solid surface, with cramps and various pains coming after when he was fully awake. There was also soft humming as if emulating a cheerful tune. It was not the soothing kind that mothers would usually do for children, or when he was a wee lad, but it was comforting in the sense that he used to remember Becca doing it for him when he was tired.

It was certainly not the same tunes Becca would hum or whistle, but the action was still in some way the same that he was now sure that's why he felt, at peace. Even if a burgeoning headache was about to come its way.

Slowly, his eyes opened as his senses came back to him and the first thing he saw, was the scarred face of the woman with whom he had just shared a drink at the gala. She was… smiling at him as if anticipating him waking up at that opportune moment as her red locks flowed freely around her face and her stormy, blue eyes. Her hair was loose from its usual braid and her smile was by all accounts, the same daring and radical grin that she was known for.

The embodiment of adventure and the untamed storm.

Wait… why was he, of all people, complimenting her?

"Mornin' Billy."

He blinked at her current state of wear, which he only noticed to be a bathrobe, tied neatly near her waist as her cheerful smile made the light seeping into the room brighter for some reason. Billy Butcher then groaned as he felt the air touch his skin. Then his eyes widened as he realized he was down to his trousers.

"The fuck happened?" he said as he groaned, slowly getting up from her lap as she giggled at his expense. His head became fuzzy as the headache was now approaching, only for him to feel her tap his bare shoulder as she offered him a pill and a glass of water.

"You're welcome by the way. It's already two hours past lunch and if you're going to ask, I woke up just an hour ago. We were both hammered, heh." She said as she looked at him while the sound of the news being played in the background was heard while Billy drank his pill and water. Savoring it as if he was parched. Breathing deeply, he turned back to her who was still staring at him.

"Fuck… d-did we?" he asked the unsaid question as her grin became playful.

"I thought I was ugly, huh, ye bastard? And now you're asking that of me?" she replied as she began stretching. The bathrobe hugged her form tightly as Billy Butcher began sighing to himself. "I'll give you a hint as to what happened last night." She said as she pointed towards the wardrobe of the hotel, he had booked for himself in this now failed attempt at a cover. The wardrobe showed a hung, terribly dirtied dress where a large brown stain was as clear as daylight. It was then that he started connecting the dots and realized that it was her dress, and that was probably the ultimate conclusion of all the booze he had just drunk the night before.

"It's a shame, it was a very nice dress, and I quite liked it, but eh… you had your first shot, so I had to retaliate with mine." she smugly said as he looked at her, confused.

"What?"

She then gestured towards the edge of the bed as Butcher inevitably saw what she was referring to. His entire suit, jacket, shirt, and all were in a dirty, neatly folded pile just next to the mattress they were both in. If the vomit stain on her dress was bad, his was worse as she began laughing at his expression.

"Not your idea of a dirty night huh? But eh, wasn't in the mood anyway so don't get your imagination up. 'Sides, I think we both enjoyed ourselves enough to leave each other satisfied. I know I did." She confirmed to him as he settled back down on the bed.

"What the fuck happened? I remember the party then-

"Oh, a lot happened, Billy." She teased as she got up and began stretching.

"Stop calling me that. It's Butcher or nothing, Billy's not been my name in a while." He said a bit of annoyance with his tone as it invoked a lot of baggage. However, Drake simply did not care as she sauntered towards the nearest table where a glass pitcher of water and what looked like breakfast was placed there. She poured herself a glass as she turned back to him.

"Whatever you say, Billy Butcher. If you ask me, that's a terrible name, I might just call you William in turn. Sounds better, but as a pirate name? If you earned it, Butcher seems like something that would make even the hardest blowhards in the navy either cower you or straight up laugh at you for how ridiculous it sounds." She said to him as he groaned.

"Drake's not that much of a real name either, thank you very much."

"But Drake sounds amazing! Such as my prideful self. A Dragon. The kind that made men tremble under their breaches as they piss and shit over the mere mention of it. The kind that rallied armadas and burned the very essence of bravery once the cannonballs came raining down." She dramatized with her free hand in a gesture of pure amazement as Butcher watched.

"That's a name I'm very much proud of. What about you? Are you proud of yourself?"

Was he? Did William Butcher feel the same?

"Would you keep pressing me, if I asked you to fuck off from asking that?" he started as she grinned, the gesture being the answer as he scratched the back of his head in slight frustration. "In some way yes… am I fully proud of it? No. Definitely no."

"Why not? A name is your identity. Even if you die, what people remember you for, will always be the lasting impression, a portrait as to who the individual was, regardless of their actions." She said, losing a bit of her teasing as the discussion became semi-serious.

"Butcher isn't the prettiest name to be remembered by, Drake."

"Then do something about it. You have baggage, I can certainly feel that. You're still alive and kicking, and if you actually do something that matters then perhaps… you might reach that point where you derive satisfaction with the name you're born with. Maybe you wouldn't need to feel ashamed or frustrated with what that name is attached to." He then stared at her as she finished those words, thinking about them, as he sighed inwardly.

"But who am I to tell you what to do, I certainly got to where I am without the need for any sort of guiding hand, just my own with the wind at my back and the direction of the sun on the horizon. Wouldn't need anything else but a crew and friends along the way." She said as she carried both their trays where their breakfast was on and walked beside him, lending him his share.

"Thanks… but again, what the fuck happened?" he asked as she began chewing on toast.

She then pointed towards her own chest in a gesture as Butcher looked down on his own.

A large scar was now freshly marring his skin as if it had already healed. Eyes widened, he looked very disturbed at what this was as he began touching it. "Jesus, what the hell did we just do? Did we fucking kill anyone?" he said with a bit of concern as he looked at her.

She merely shrugged at his question as she finished eating her toast. "If you consider undead being 'killed' then maybe? I don't know if it counts, I guess, skeletons and ghosts are already dead if you ask me."

Billy Butcher then began staring at her as if she was a mad woman.

"W-What? The hell are you looking at?"

She was already a mad woman, there was no question about that.

"Be real with me," he said as she began eating her salad.

"Didn't I tell you last night, as you were being your charming self that I'm the kind of person that's terrible at lying? Or am I supposed to bloody repeat that to you?" she snarked.

"A fucking ghost did this to me?" he said, incredulously.

"Sam Bellamy, I think his name was. Old Coot got angry we nabbed his treasure or something. I didn't give a damn, he's already dead as bones, and he won't be able to use that gold, while we could. Good thing his crew comprised mostly of creaky vulnerable skeletons. Otherwise, I'd have to be the one to pull all the weight." she proudly stated as he kept looking at her as if she was joking.

"You tellin' me we went treasure hunting and we fought imaginary undead slobs that hid treasures in what… a goddamn cave where all their gold was stashed?" he asked with all the irony and annoyance in his voice as possible only to be met with a nodding, almost innocent smile.

"Terrible liar, remember?" she pointed to herself.

He just groaned as he emptied his coffee on his tray. The bitterness settled in as she ate her own fill. "Am I still dreaming, or is the booze we drank still affecting my noggin?"

"No, to both. Though if you still have a hard time believing me…" she then reached into her cleavage only to grab what he now noticed to be a necklace hung around her neck. She then picked up the pendant at the end of it and Butcher saw that it was the kind of trinket found only in museums, it even had some form of erosion and damage to it that no simple man could replicate through artificial means. "This beauty was our prime prize last night. You want to know what the best part of this was?"

"What?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"It's your gift for me! It was your find and treasure after all, so I didn't take much of it, but you were kind enough to give your good ol' Admiral some loot, even if it's in the form of this cute little pendant."

"R-Really?" he asked, considerably confused. Hardly believing that he of all people would gift her something. Though then again, he was drunk. "

"Speaking of deals by the way…" she pulled out the vial that she offered to him last night and pulled one of his hands towards her before pressing it into his palm. "… a deal's a deal and I'm pretty sure that was the most fun night I've had in ages A little ol' treasure hunting scratched that little itch I've been wishing to find this past few months. So… thanks for being there." She happily said.

Butcher looked at the vial one more time before realizing that the woman indeed, was not lying, despite all of her antics. "Thanks. I think." He said until she pulled a small axe out of nowhere with a grin, and before he could question her about it in alarm…

SLIC!

She slit her own palm and took another empty vial before pouring her own blood within it.

"…almost forgot my part of the two-package deal. I don't really know what good you'll have with something as mundane as my own blood, but… if it's to show that we're willing to work together, then I'll happily oblige. 'Sides, from one leader to another, this is practically my boss' attempt at a nice old fashioned, parley." She amicably said as she finished up, filling the vial before her wound closed on its own. She then capped it and offered it to him.

Nodding at her, he reached for the vial and as soon as he touched it, she looked at him.

"Hey… sadly you don't remember much of last night, but if I could give you any sort of advice on how you're going with your life… just take heed that a captain can't steer the ship without its crew, and a crew is the most important part of any captain's life." She then let go as Butcher stared at her.

"You don't need to burn bridges all the time. Learn to find people that you trust, people you feel happy with, and cherish that bond down to the very end. Life's not a one-man show Billy and I hope you always remember that." She finished as she stood up and began walking away from him.

Wordlessly, Butcher was left to his own musings as she went to grab something.

He did not know if it was because of his current clarity or the pill she gave him that was now keeping his thoughts straight, but… she was right. Even with the ship-hand analogy. She was right. Her words cut through him deeply as he thought about every bridge that he burned to the ground with great fervor. Then he recalled Becca, the only person that he thought would make up his world…

And now she's gone and he's back to the circle of hell that he essentially made for himself.

He sighed deeply until she happily sat back down next to him again.

"Maybe this'll clear your memory a bit? The quality's kinda ass but it's still great in my eyes." she excitedly said as if it was a pair of actual, printed photographs now strewn on his lap. It was then that Butcher found himself recalling faint echoes of the memories shown in the pictures.

"This isn't… edited. Right?" he asked, a bit horrified and amused in a macabre sort of way.

"Do I look like someone that's knowledgeable on those thingamajigs? I can barely use a camera that I prefer over those things people call as phones and you're asking me if I can edit photos?" she snarked back as she began sifting through the pictures with glee.

"Fuck me, then." He said as small glimpses…

…of wild gunfire…

…of swords clashing against each other as sparks sprang away…

…of mighty treasure with all the loot they had taken in…

…of laughing as they decapitated The Deep's statue as well as defacing some monuments dedicated to other supes, with Butcher even pissing on them while Drake vomited on their feet while they laughed loudly into the night.

It was a lot of memories for such a sparse, few hours that as the more Butcher looked through the photographs and saw how much he was smiling while talking with her about it, he began to have an epiphany. It was there that he realized that he was… happy after such a long time of being miserable.

He even laughed at her as they happily discussed through the photos of their merry time together. So much so that she even began teasing him about it to which he just either shut her down or told her to get out of her case. Neither worked in any capacity.

He didn't mind it though. Much to his own surprise.

Even as the Room Service maid came to get their food, the two managed to speak to each other quite closely to the point that it was now close to sunset. Drake had already changed clothes to her usual 'casual' outfit which was still strange to his eyes.

Butcher, now clothed in his own signature trench coat watched her take a hand on one of her own old-fashioned pistols and offered it to him. He took it slowly into his hands as she gave him one last smile to end their journey that day.

"You gave me a parting gift, may as well make ourselves equal on that front. Don't want to owe anybody after all, for an Admiral always keeps his debts paid in full. Much more when said debt is owed to a friend."

"You're really taking this whole 'friendship' thing seriously, huh?" he said as he looked at the pistol, her name emblazed on it. Admittedly, he was starting to question why she was named after a historical figure, for Butcher despite all of his bluster was good enough to know where the name 'Francis Drake' belonged to. However, this was Olympia they were talking about and this woman as enjoyable as she was, was as mad and mysterious as all of them combined.

That was probably part of the charm.

"A Lady's satisfied for a night worth remembering. So yeah, friends." She said, now offering her hand as he shook it gracefully.

"Friends." He said, accepting the offer, if only to be in Olympia's good graces through her.

It wasn't the first time and while he would never call the woman before her gullible, she was very friendly to the point that it surprised him.

"Keep yourself safe Billy. I'd hate to see you get in trouble again. I'm not as lenient as other people are in this business." She said with a bit of warmth in her voice as she waved to him before walking away and stepping out of his hotel room. As he watched her disappear, Butcher pulled out a photo that Drake gave him. It was him and her laughing at the destroyed monument of Homelander's statue strewn across a field. He actually smiled at it as he tucked it away.

Then he heard his phone ringing to the number of one Susan Raynor.

About thirty-four calls were made as he sent her a text, not bothering to accept at that moment as he still had things to do. He walked towards the closet door of his room and as he opened it, a flood of golden coins and various other treasures came rushing out…

"Ugh." He groaned, recalling that he was now rich ten times over with all of this loot they had apparently stolen from a fucking ghost pirate captain named Sam Bellamy. He was still questioning the reality of that, but the gold there was pretty much real. Gold that he had no idea how to exchange.

Well… he did have Frenchie who had contacts with a lot of guys in the business.

It was also high time that he visited his Boys again, even for just the luxury of meeting them.

Fuck, she's already influenced me this bad…

Butcher shook his head as he began packing the loot in the government-sponsored bags and supplies that Raynor had given him. The crew working for the undercover business group had probably left the hotel earlier that day, but he still had enough cash to get all of this together.

An hour later, early that night as he was finishing up, he heard a knock on his door that he answered quickly. What stood there was the maid from earlier looking a bit ashamed at his presence.

"Mes excuses, sir. I seemed to have forgotten that the Madame ordered you dinner." She said as she held a cart with just that. He huffed for a moment before letting her in non-verbally.

That bitch, he mused as he looked at the maid.

"Where are you from, if I might ask?" the maid simply tilted her head as she served him his food.

"Caen, sir. It's northwest from Paris."

"Ah. Well, you don't need to go all polite around me. I've got a friend that's also French." He said as she smiled warmly. As she was about to leave with a goodbye, he called out to her. Lending her three gold coins for all the trouble while her eyes widened in amazement.

"Sir… you didn't need to-

"Just take it. I'm feeling a bit generous tonight."

"Oh, what was the occasion?" she asked, innocently.

"I made a friend." He admitted.

TWO DAYS LATER…

"Don't be nervous… don't be nervous…" he kept repeating to himself after entering probably the most prestigious and popular company around the world. Even with the news buzzing with activity over the debate of Vought and Olympia over the various news and announcements made, he was still very much amazed at the building that he was in.

So amazed that he was starting to turn into a nervous wreck just from being there.

Holding and hugging the envelope that he brought for himself along with all the requirements possible required for his case. His dad had edged him on with a proud fervor with what opportunity was thrown at his lap after a very specific and isolated incident that had him talking with one of the people that Olympia had on its top ranks in the organization.

He was still in disbelief that this happened for a nobody like him as he gazed at the amazing white walls and futuristic but pleasing-looking aesthetic that their main office in New Hampshire showed. Its employees looked amazing as well down to what he assumed to be the uniforms that had the air of tomorrow and progress ingrained into them.

Even the guards looked astonishing.

Decked out in partial armor that resembled something Greek or Roman in aesthetic but made purely into something that felt futuristic in tone. They were disciplined to the point that he thought they looked like statues, which primarily showed that they were both dangerous and overly serious with their craft. Something that he was very much intimidated by and felt overwhelmed by.

Because if this whole deal went through, then he had to practically do the same.

To make up for the opportunity given to him.

His dad and Robin were giving him full confidence, even if he was unsure.

"Hugh Campbell?" one of the employees holding a tablet called out despite him being the only person in the overwhelmingly amazing but empty lobby. He stood up, wrinkling his envelope for a bit as he awkwardly fixed himself.

"Y-yes, Hugh Campbell, madame-ma'am."

She smiled at him as they shook hands. "You may call me Lisa, glad to have you here."

"I feel the same." He quickly replied.

"I'll be escorting you to Ms. Medea quickly, do note that she's a bit busy today but she was expecting you," Lisa explained as he nodded.

"Understood and… thank you." He awkwardly replied as she grinned at him.

Without another word, the two walked through a bunch of hallways where various rooms with glass windows showed him a series of labs, departments, and other important sectors of Olympia's growing economy. If he was not forcing himself to be professional he would have geeked out and taken a few pictures for Robin and his dad…

Especially when he saw one of them.

"I was to visit Lady Raikou by the morrow, but I was called back suddenly, Odysseus… it's a shame, we were to share tea together." A beautiful woman riding a large mechanical bull said as they walked past them with Rider, or what Hughie basically remembered as the Rider with the huge mech.

The sensation that every young boy was virtually in love with his character as said person was walking with the woman riding the bull.

"I understand Lady Europa. But we believe your services are required, desperately."

"I see… that's too sad." He heard the woman say before the two noticed them. Much to Hughie's inward glee and joy. "Oh, my darling Lisa… how are you today?"

"I'm doing well, Lady Europa. I am escorting a possible hire for Lady Medea, currently."

"Oh! How wonderful! What is your name, young man?" The woman, apparently named Europa said with so much motherly aura that Hughie almost forgot that he had to act professional.

"Hugh… Campbell ma'am."

"Hugh Campbell. Dear Hughie! The name is so cute. I hope darling Medea treats you well. She's very busy but accommodating, if a bit… energetic with her wares." The motherly woman said with a smile that radiated, making Hughie feel his heartbeat with the support.

"I wish you luck, young man. I know Lady Medea's aunt personally. Just be respectful and everything will be alright." Rider, and apparently named Odysseus said with Hughie geeked out with the greeting of support in both admiration and joy.

"T-Thank you, ma'am, sir. I won't let you down."

They reciprocated one final slew of greetings as the two walked away.

Europa was readily amused as she began talking with Odysseus again.

Hughie, feeling better with the boost of confidence was led to a room with what he assumed to be Greek Letters written in the form of the name Medea. The door slid open as Hughie was greeted with a much more traditional room.

A wide space that was a bit messy but resembled a workshop with various books, mannequins, figurines, and various paraphernalia that made Hughie interested. In the middle of it all, swarmed by textiles and various tools, was the woman that he had met in the shop days ago.

Medea, known as Caster like his comrades in the public, was wearing a set of heavy glasses as she peered down on her sewing kit while meticulously creating a marvelous ribbon for a dress.

Lisa respectfully called out for her attention as Medea perked up, while still wearing the heavy glasses. "Lisa dear, after we talk can I ask you to get me some coffee?"

"Yes ma'am, but uh, your guest has already arrived," Lisa stated as Medea focused her eyes before removing the heavy glasses and a small smirk appeared on her face.

"Oh… young man. You're here," she said lightly.

Hughie gulped a bit in nervous excitement as the woman stood up and began hovering towards them. The casual display of power blew his mind as she moved a finger and her entire cluttered desk neatly arranged itself to a degree of spotless cleanliness in a matter of seconds.

She then prompted him to sit down in front of her.

"I was waiting for you."

AN: Yes, the maid was Charlotte. Also, consider this as a sort of epilogue for Changing Tides as well as a light transition chapter for the next (which will probably be a very heavy Kore Act 3 with Homelander and the Seven as well as the PHO-like interlude). Lastly, yea boi… Hughie is now here. Details on how they met will be shown in the next few chapters, but anyway….

Hughie is now in the house hahahahha!