Four years ago, 1938 Sullivan Lane, Penthouse, New Troy, Metropolis. Kent Residence.
Arthur Curry knocked on the patio door, and Lois, still clad in her funeral attire, came running in nearly as fast as The Flash. She flung the patio door open like lightning.
"Arthur!" She exclaimed, her gaze darting between him and her sons. She was unable to hide her surprise at how the boys were dressed. "Thank you so much for bringing them home!"
Arthur chuckled as he turned to leave. "No trouble at all."
"Where were they?" She asked
"Alaska. Might wanna turn on the news if you want to know more." He replied with a laugh. "Try not to be too hard on them, okay?"
Aquaman bounded away toward the bay as Lois ushered Conner and Jon into the apartment.
"Alright, I suppose I can guess what you two have been up to while you were gone." Lois said wearily as she shut the door, and flicked on the television. "Where are your suits?"
"In the fortress." Conner said sheepishly. "We didn't mess them up or anything."
Lois nodded, and retrieved a suitcase from the closet, and tossed it to Jonathan.
"Alright. Put them in here, and try not to wrinkle them too badly."
"You're not mad at us?" Jon asked as his mother changed the channel to the news.
"Though they weren't available for comment," a male reporter's voice said over footage of the White Portuguese. "The two young men the captain claims are 'the Superboy's' appear to have performed admirably in their first recorded outing. The Man of Steel left some big boots behind, but filling them doesn't seem to be a problem for the sons of the Last Son of Krypton. Back to you, Kat."
Lois knelt down to look the boys in the eyes. A smile grew across her tired face, and she pulled them both into a tight hug.
"I couldn't be! Your dad and I knew this was coming someday. It's why he showed you what to do, how to do it! Just in case you needed to." Lois disengaged from the embrace to look the boys in their eyes. "Just try to be careful, okay?"
Jon and Connor nodded in unison.
"And try not to disappear without telling me, okay?" She said with a chuckle. "I was this close," Lois held her index finger and thumb approximately a centimeter apart. "To sending the Justice League out to look for you."
Four years later, New York City, Vought Tower, on a world far away...
Annie January walked through the front doors of Vought Tower in blue-jeans and a tank-top, with Hughie's denim overshirt on top, and her ruined monokini clutched in one hand. She stormed past the front desk towards the elevator, scanned her hand, and entered. Once inside, she tapped the button for the ninety-ninth floor. The doors opened, and she saw Ashley rush out of her office towards the elevator.
"Starlight!" She exclaimed. "Where have you been?"
"I was helping Homelander." Annie retorted as she stormed down the hallway.
"What the hell happened to your suit?" Ashley asked incredulously as she examined the charred remains Annie held.
"Homelander got hit in the head by that creature." Annie recited as she walked to her room. "I distracted it while Superman pulled him out of the fire." Annie stopped in front of her door, and tossed the remains of her suit to Ashley. "Next time, I want a suit that can keep the tentacles away from my tits and ass."
Annie paused as Ashley gaped in horror at where the suit was damaged, immediately realizing how poorly she'd phrased that.
Fuck it, let her think what she wants. Annie thought as she opened her door.
"Bye!" Annie said as she entered the room and slammed the door in Ashley's face.
Somewhere between Metropolis and Gotham, on a World Far Away...
Superman soared across the bay between Metropolis and Gotham, towards the waterfall entrance of the Batcave. He thought back to every circuit he'd built back on the other Earth, to every line of code he'd written, as he jetted across the Gotham City skyline. His mind drifted away, and then snapped back sharply as a chorus of gunshots and a screeching crunch of metal rang out in the night.
A high-pitched, raspy cackle echoed across the streets.
"Excellent work, my cybernetic pal!" It was The Joker's voice.
Superman spied the Clown Prince of Crime on the streets below, near an armored car that had been dismantled by the talons of a cyborg with a heart full of radiation, contained only by a lead-lined case inside his chest cavity. John Corben, AKA Metallo. He was supposed to be locked up, without the Kryptonite heart.
Even inside the lead case, far up in the sky, the radiation made Clark's skin crawl. Metallo loved to open up the cavity, and as such, it leaked out like a cracked bottle as the rays fought against their insulted prison.
"Shut your trap, Joker." Corben snapped as he grabbed a heavy locked case from the back of the dismembered vehicle. "Have your stooges keep their eyes peeled! If Batman shows up, we need to know!"
Joker cackled as he yanked the driver's side door open and yanked a panicked security guard from his seat. "He's preoccupied with big blue!" The clown prince of crime bellowed as he tossed the guard out into the street, amidst a gaggle of his henchmen. "And while the Bat's away, the Joker will play!" Joker withdrew a revolver from his jacket, and aimed it at the cowering guard.
The Man of Steel dropped from the sky as The Joker pulled his trigger, and landed in the midst of the henchmen, between Joker and the guard, scattering dust in his wake as he touched down on the street as lightly as a feather, but despite the grace of his landing, the crowd of hired goons scattered like a bomb had gone off. The gunshot rang out up and down the streets of Gotham as Superman plucked the bullet from the air with his thumb and forefinger, as effortlessly as one would swat a fly.
"Dammit!" The Joker exclaimed as he allowed the hand clutching his revolver to flop comically to his side. "I was hoping he'd be gone for another week!"
"Hope into one hand, laugh into the other…" Superman said as he examined the bullet. "Hollow point… You wanted to make sure you hurt somebody tonight, didn't you?"
Metallo made a mechanical sound of disgust.
"You said this job'd be easy!" Corben screeched. "I didn't sign up to tangle with the man of steel again!"
"If you've done it before, you should be good at it by now!" Joker cackled.
"One more crack, clown!" Metallo said, gesturing with a metal finger at the Joker's face as he started to unlock his chest plate. "Step back, unless you want a-"
Superman's heat vision shot out, and sliced off the tips of Metallo's silver left thumb and index finger. The cyborg exclaimed in pain as the last son of Krypton welded his chest panel shut.
"And here I thought you were still in Stryker's, Corben." Superman said as the cyborg clawed uselessly at his now solid metal chest plate.
"Not every party needs a pooper, Superman!" Joker said as he reholstered his revolver in disgust. "That's why we didn't invite you!"
"Lotsa things slip through the cracks when you got the Justice League scouring the known universe for you instead of keeping track of little old me." Metallo retorted, ignoring Joker as he dug what remained of his hand's talons into the welds. "While the cats are away..."
"That was my line earlier!" Joker yelled.
"Right." Superman replied as he crossed his arms. "You're not getting out of this, and you're not going to get away, so you can tell your goons to stand down, or we're going to have to do this the hard way."
"You know us, Superman!" Joker exclaimed. "There is no easy way!"
An object whistled out of the shadows and struck Corben in the back of the knees. The cyborg exclaimed in surprise as a black bolas wrapped itself around his legs, sending him tumbling to the ground.
"John Corben, you have the right to remain silent." A deep voice growled from above as The Dark Knight dropped out of the shadows to land near Metallo. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law… But you already knew that."
The Joker made to hop away into the night, but Superman appeared in front of him like a bolt of lightning.
"Damn!" The Joker exclaimed. "And I thought Batman appeared out of nowhere!"
"You know how this ends, Joker." Superman said evenly as he stepped forward, forcing The Joker to step back. "We can get you back into a cell at Arkham before you get hur, or you try to run, and inevitably wind up in traction. Take your pick."
The Joker appeared to contemplate Superman's offer mockingly, before throwing a dismissive, limp-wristed gesture Kal-El's way.
"Nah, I think there's a third option." Joker said as he clenched his fist. "You know me, Superman, I just hate false dichotomies!"
Corben roared, and snapped the cords around his legs as he lunged towards Batman. The Dark Knight dodged out of the way nimbly, but the metal stumps of Metallo's hand snagged his cape, and tore through the fabric.
A stream of red mist ejected itself from the flower on Joker's lapel. The spray immediately caused a gagging reaction in Superman's throat and chest as he felt the Earth's gravity pulling down on him.
"Liquified red sun radiation, courtesy of our mutual frenemies at Argus, Kal-El!" Joker gloated as he straightened his tie. "Seems they don't like you very much. Something about rising from the dead doesn't sit well with them. Perhaps you remind them too much of the last guy who did that." Joker retrieved a radio handset from his belt. "Harley, my dear, I believe it's time for a getaway!"
"Copy that, Mista J!" Harleen Quinzell's voice crackled through the radio.
Batman shot a kick at Metallo's head. His boot connected with a metallic CLANK! And Corben let out a mechanical cackle as he snagged Batman's ankle, and tossed him bodily into the armored car.
"You're out of your depth, caped crusader!" Corben declared. "You should've targeted the clown."
"And Big Blue here should've gone after you, Johnny boy!" Joker said, rubbing his hands together.
Superman breathed out hard, and jumped upwards, striking Joker in the nose with a closed fist.
The strike sent the Clown Prince of Crime reeling backwards as a woman in a red and black jester costume drove up on a low-rider motorcycle decked out in Outsiders gang insignias.
"Excellent timing my dear!" Joker said through the hand he clenched around his now-bleeding nose. "This little venture appears to have gone further south than I anticipated!"
"Hey, where's my bike, Joker?" Corben demanded as Batman extracted himself from the ruined armored truck.
"Sorry, my metal friend!" Joker said as he pulled a string of multicolored hankies from his pocket to stifle his bleeding nose. "This bike's built for two!"
Batman shot his grappling gun at Metallo's shoulder, piercing the cyborg with a tri-tipped barb. The Dark Knight shot out a leg at head-height as he reeled the grapnel in at full speed. The kick connected with a sickly rattling sound as Superman took a deep breath of clean air, and rose back to his full height with a fury in his eyes.
Lightning crackled across the Gotham City skyline as Harley revved up her stolen motorcycle.
"Aw, cripes!" Harley exclaimed. "That rain's gonna ruin my hair!"
"Nonsense, dear!" The Joker retorted as he strolled lankily up to Harley. "You could never look anything less than divine!"
"Aw, that's sweet of you to say, puddin'!" Harley replied as she turned her head to nuzzle Joker's nose. Then, lightning crackled across the sky again, and zapped Harley, Joker, and Metallo, until they fell to the ground unconscious.
The air buzzed with electricity as a woman in a deep purple jumpsuit with red lines, and black accents descended from the air, as lightning crackled around her, but somehow didn't electrify her dark brown hair, which she wore in a side-cut with long hair on the left side of her face, and a tight-cut shave on the right side.
"Thanks for the help." Superman said as the woman shifted her hips to one side, and turned around with a sweep of her legs that left her with her feet planted approximately four feet apart. Her skin was pale, almost transparent in its' lack of pigmentation aside from her bright pink lips. Her purple and black suit had a silver belt with an eagle at the center of the buckle, emphasizing the width of her hips as the curves of her rippling abdomen descended from her generous bust.
Her eyes locked into Superman like a predator on its', prey, and her mouth spread into the salivating smile of a ravenous beast.
"My pleasure." She purred, shifting her weight to one leg, and crossing the other past it with her step, and repeating until she was a few arm's length from the man of steel, allowing her hips to sway what looked like several feet with each step. "You weren't so bad yourself. Fighting back even when you're on the ropes… You're the right kind of man."
Superman raised an eyebrow. "Thanks." He replied uneasily. Batman narrowed his eyes in suspicion as the woman sashayed around Superman, giving Kal the first, second, third and fourth over as her arms drifted closer to his chest and shoulders.
"You're everything they said and more." She purred as she caressed his shoulders and chest as lightly as a feather, then slapped his pecs like with the force of a magnum bullet. Clark's eyes shot wide open at the action. "You're... Dare I say it, you're better than perfect." She moaned as she danced her arms across his muscular frame.
Superman grabbed her arms gently, but firmly, and removed them from his chest.
"Thanks, but I'm not interested in whatever you're doing."
The action seemed to have the opposite of its intended effect, as the woman's predatory smile grew wider. "Hot damn. Not afraid to be a little strict, huh?" She asked as she gave her suit's zipper a small tug, allowing the catch to release, and the zipper to descend slowly. "What do you say we ditch the rodent and get out of here, big blue?"
Superman's eyes grew wide, and he stepped backwards as the woman advanced, placing her hands on his stomach and sliding them down his abs as her bosom forced her zipper down, down past her chest, past her toned navel, as her breasts strained at what remained of their confines.
Superman seized her hands once more before they could descend past his belt line, and pushed the woman away.
"Sorry to break it to you," he said, crossing his arms. "But I'm taken, and this is hardly the place regardless."
His stiff rebuke caused a sudden change in her demeanor. The ferocious nymphomania was replaced with a sudden facade of flirtatious modesty.
"Well." She replied as she cupped her breasts, then slid her hands down her bare abdomen, allowing them to visibly bump across her abdominal muscles. She slid two fingers inside her suit, where the slider of the zipper had come to rest, and pulled the mechanism all the way up to her neck in one swift motion, concealing the flesh she'd flaunted previously. "If that's how you feel, fine. Just keep in mind, you might not get another chance to let the lightning ride you."
She performed another wide turn away from Superman as the hairs on Superman's head, chest and the backs of his hands began to stand up on end. Purple electricity crackled off her arms and legs as she shot a lusty wink over her shoulder at Superman, smacked herself on the butt with a flash of purple lightning and a crack of thunder, then erupted from the ground like a shot from a cannon.
A brief silence hung in the air, until Batman broke it.
"What the hell was that?" The Dark Knight asked, baffled.
"I have no idea." Superman replied.
175 Fifth Avenue, New York City, New York, on a world far away…
"You're kidding me." Hughie said as they stood outside their newly-acquired headquarters. "The Flatiron building? We own this thing? All of it?"
"Oui, Petit Hughie." Frenchie replied. "It seems the former owners have been attempting to get rid of it for a while. Cost just under one-hundred million."
Hughie's heart jumped at the thought of the money that had changed hands for this building, and let out an impressed whistle. "Can't believe it didn't get picked up by a rich film buff..." Maybe in a way, it has been... "How much do we have left?" He asked, turning to Frenchie.
"More than enough." Frenchie replied.
"Don't just stand there gawking." Billy interjected as he sifted through a binder of documents with a picture of the building printed on the front. "Let's get ourselves set up before someone decides we don't belong here."
Frenchie nodded, and walked up to the front door of the building, which was shut with an electronic lock with a keypad.
"The password is-" Billy said as he flipped through the binder, but Frenchie cut him off as he tapped on the keys as though he already knew the code.
"DBSM6202." Frenchie replied as the pad beeped its' approval, and one of its' lights lit up green. Frenchie pushed on the door, and it opened wide.
Billy raised a confused eyebrow as he looked up from the binder, and snapped it shut. "Yeah... How'd you know?"
Frenchie stood there at the door, looked back at the keypad, then to Billy. "That is a good question."
"It's the cosmic shit." Marvin said with a sigh. "Can't wait for mine to show up!" He said facetiously as the group entered the building.
Later, inside the building...
The inside of the building was somewhere between trashed and... Decently kempt. Paint peeled from some of the walls and trim, desks and chairs were strewn asunder, and the windows desperately needed to be wiped down with some kind of caustic substance, but it was big enough for anything they'd need, at least at this point, and it had roof access, so if they needed to come and go via the skies, they could.
"Guess this is why we get the deal." Hughie said as he picked up a stack of yellowed newspapers, and sorted through the dust-covered issues. "Couldn't find any angry newsmen these days."
"The age of the reporter who gave a shit died long ago, Hughie." Billy said as he pulled a framed article about 9/11 off the wall. "Now all you've got is talking heads, 'TV personalities,' and social media influencers who can be bought for a tub of caffeine."
Hughie squared his jaw, and hung his head, then nodded. "Betcha Vought pays off anyone who gets too curious, huh?"
"That, or kills 'em." Marvin said as he shook out a garbage bag. "Everyone who'd stick their neck out in the news either works for Vought, or disappears... Hasn't been a damn bit of good reporting in the world for a long time..."
"Unless..." Billy muttered... "Unless you count what Kent did."
The Boys paused where they stood, and looked at Billy.
Billy looked up from the framed article, then around at the others, then laughed to break the silence. "Took a man tougher than steel to stand up to that machine, eh?" He looked back at the article about the collapse of the twin towers, the terrorist attack that had caused the collapse, and the aftermath. Can't help but wonder what someone like him could've done then, eh? Billy thought to himself. Homelander wouldn't have been a lick of use... Not how he is... But someone else... Someone a little more like him...
Billy's hand absentmindedly drifted towards his chest, and rested there briefly, before he snapped back to the office, and set the framed article down on the floor. "And we'll have to be just as tough, which means we need to be better than we are. Only way to get there is practice. So, what wants to go first?"
"Feel free." Hughie said. "I don't wanna wind up naked again."
"Dignity's overrated, kid." Butcher replied. "Better you wind up naked than someone else winds up dead."
Hughie rubbed his brow, sighed, and nodded. "Yeah, you're right..."
"So how'd you do it last time, anyway?" Marvin asked Hughie. "Looked like you jumped or something."
"I don't really remember..." Hughie said, thinking back to the moment. "It was like time slowed down or something. I saw Butcher's lasers cut through the table, and burn the floor, and when he hit the ceiling and they popped towards Annie I... Jumped, and I was there."
"Instinct is great, but we need to figure out how to make it work more reliably." Billy said, scratching his bearded chin. "You felt like time slowed down?"
Hughie nodded. "I was still thinking at normal speed, but the world around me felt like it was running in slow motion." A revelatory look crossed Hughie's face, and he snapped his fingers. "And I felt like my skin... Shuddered. Like I was vibrating or something."
"If you can get that kind of focus again, you could probably figure out how to... Jump on command, eh?" Billy asked.
Hughie nodded. "I think so. What about you, how'd you shoot those lasers? How'd you fly?"
Billy thought back to the day after they'd sent the monster to its' demise... To the feeling in his eyes, behind his eyes, before they'd erupted.
"It was like an itching, burning feeling." Billy said. "Like I'd been awake for weeks, and couldn't close my eyes. Started as a tickle, then grew... Like I was trying to hold back a sneeze."
"And the flying?"
Billy shook his head. "Dunno. When the beams came out, I started to panic. Tried to take some breaths to calm myself down, and before I knew it, I was floating like a balloon."
"Well, if we're going to test this stuff, I'd rather do it on the roof than in here." Hughie said. "I don't want to put myself in a wall by accident. The roof should be clear enough, right?"
"If not, we'll clear it." Billy said. "Not like anyone can tell us not to."
Later, on the roof…
Hughie looked around as he jogged in place nervously. They'd cleared the roof in a matter of minutes, with Butcher's newfound strength.
"You ready?" Marvin asked.
Hughie took a deep breath, and slowed his jogging. He came to a stop, and closed his eyes.
"No idea." He declared as he opened his eyes again. "I don't want to wind up naked on a skyscraper, you know?"
"No time for dignity." Butcher said. "If it's a life or you becomin' The Streak, you damn well better get comfortable being naked."
Hughie shrugged, and nodded.
"I know…" He said, flicking his hand through his hair. "I just don't know where to start."
"Go small." Billy replied. "Put your arm out, and try to get to where your fingertips are."
"Isn't that kinda too small?" Hughie asked.
Billy shrugged.
"Nobody ever learned how to shoot a gun starting with a Desert Eagle." He replied. "Start with the first step, then you can take the second."
Hughie sighed, and extended his arm… He focused his attention on his fingertips. He felt the wind flow through his hair, blow through his clothes, and tickle his fingertips… And then the world felt like it slowed to a crawl as Hughie's skin started to tickle, and then buzz.
Hughie glanced around at what felt like a normal pace for him as the others stood stock still around him, as their heartbeats ticked slowly like a metronome.
"Whoah!" Hughie exclaimed as he looked back at his hand, where his destination lay.
In less than the blink of an eye, Hughie snapped into place a couple of feet in front of himself, leaving some of his clothes behind in the process.
"Holy shit!" Marvin exclaimed. "He did it!"
A genuine smile grew across Billy's face.
"Hell yeah he did!" Billy said. "Even managed to keep his clothes on this time!"
Hughie looked down at himself, and saw that he'd managed to retain a skintight compression shirt and Spandex underwear.
"Great." He muttered. "The one thing that sticks around is my least favorite pair of underwear and a bright red shirt to show off muscles I don't have."
"Don't put yourself down." Billy said with a barking laugh. "You got at least as much bulk as Homelander, the skinny prick."
"Hang on, don't celebrate yet." Hughie said as he took a series of deep breaths. "Give me a second, let's see if I can do it again."
Hughie centered himself again… The world slowed down around him, and he jumped further. The shirt and boxers stayed with him, as he snapped into place more than a baseball's throw away from his last position.
"Mon Dieu!" Frenchie exclaimed.
"You think that's good?" Hughie said as a grin of his own spread across his face. "I think I'm just getting started."
Hughie kept a steady breathing pattern as he snapped into place near, far, across the roof, jumping from place to place like he was always there, then he was always somewhere else.
"WHOO!" He exclaimed as he came to a rest in the center of the group. "I don't even really know what I'm doing, but it feels like I'm buzzing with electricity."
"Tell me about it!" Marvin retorted. "Every time you move it's like someone turned on a static machine."
"I feel like I'm- I'm…" Hughie stammered as he tried to describe it. "Like I'm… Fast. Faster than I've ever been…"
"How fast?" Billy asked.
Hughie contemplated the question, and what he was doing.
"I don't know." He admitted. "But I'm not just… Running. I'm slowing things down around me. Like I can see where I'm going and plot out my path before I take it."
"Kinda like A-Train," Marvin commented. "Only if A-Train could tell where he was going."
Hughie started at the observation, but nodded in affirmation.
"Yeah, I guess." He said. "Still, you know… Gotta be careful."
"Always." Billy replied. "Well, you showed us yours… Guess that means it's my turn."
"Guess that means we're turning things back around." Hughie said. "So uh… What made you… Do what you did?"
Billy scoffed.
"Which part?" He asked. "The flying, or the lasers?"
"Let's start with the flying, okay?" Hughie asked hastily. "I don't wanna think about the lasers right now."
"You don't." MM said as he took off downstairs. "Hang tight on that thought."
"Alright, alright, don't get your spandex in a bunch." Billy retorted. "Alright… When I flew, I felt like I was… Weightless, right? Like I said, I was takin' some breaths to calm myself down, and they made me float like a balloon. Guess I'll start there."
Billy closed his eyes, and for nearly a minute, he did nothing but breathe. In, and out. In and out. In, out. In, out. In, out. Slowly, the breeze on the rooftop grew around Billy's feet, whipping the edges of his trenchcoat in the open air… Until…
Until Billy floated above the rooftop by several inches.
Billy eased his eyes open as he felt the roof fall away beneath him. Another genuine smile crossed his face as a small chuckle left his throat.
"Holy shit." Billy said as he descended. "Holy shit, that felt amazing."
"It looked amazing." Hughie said. "You were like twelve inches off the ground!"
"Twelve inches, eh?" Billy asked wryly. "Wonder how much further I could get?"
"We can try that later." Marvin said as he set up a cardboard standee. "Get those eyes warmed up, Butcher."
MM flipped the standee around, and Butcher cackled at the sight of a heroically-posed Homelander flashing a fake smile for the image.
"Marvin, where the fuck did you find that?" Butcher asked.
"After the fucker put on that new skintight suit, Vought's practically giving his old promo shit away." MM said. "Picked up a stack of them bound for the shredder at GameStop. Figured you'd appreciate the motivation."
"You figured right." Billy said. "Now everyone get behind me unless you want some new ventilation, I don't know if I can shut this stuff off yet."
Everyone crowded behind Billy as he focused his gaze on the cutout. He forced his eyes open to allow them to itch, to burn. Until the golden lasers erupted from his eyes, and burned a hole through the standee's stomach.
"Nice shot." Marvin said, clearly impressed.
"Not really." Billy said as he adjusted his gaze. "I was aiming… For his head."
He shot another pair of golden beams, and sliced the cutout's head clear off.
"I'm used to aiming through a sight… Compensating for bullet-drop and wind resistance." Billy commented. "But this goes straight out from my eyes. It's like every sniper's dream come true."
"Think you could hit a moving target with it?" MM asked.
Billy shrugged.
"Only one way to find out." He said with a sly grin. "Chuck a few of those bastards up into the sky, I'll see what I can do."
"Now you're talkin'!" Marvin said as he went back downstairs, then promptly returned with a box of Homelander action figures. MM set the box on an air-conditioning unit, and grabbed a figure from the box.
"Pull!" Billy shouted.
Marvin chucked the figure into the air as hard as he could. Billy followed the trajectory with his eyes… And a pair of golden beams slashed it in half.
"Not bad!" Hughie exclaimed.
"Pull!" Billy said again.
Marvin grabbed another doll from the box, and tossed it into the sky. Billy sliced it in half, and two melted plastic halves fell back to the rooftop.
"Do two this time!" Billy ordered.
Marvin grabbed a figure with each hand, and tossed them into the air, one after the other. Billy waited as the two fell, then cut them both with a single shot.
"More!" He demanded as he took a deep breath, and rose from the rooftop into the air. "Give us a challenge, mate!"
"You got it." Hughie said as he vanished into thin air, then reappeared next to Marvin beside the box. Both of them grabbed three figures apiece from the box, and slung them into the air haphazardly. Billy's eyes darted across the sky, following the six figures as they ascended, then descended as gravity took over.
One, two, three, four, five, six… And they dropped to the roof in a rain of burning, melted plastic and smoke.
A satisfied smile found itself on Billy's face.
"You know… I could almost get used to this flying thing." Billy said. "Puttin' everything else aside… It's amazing."
An idea crossed Billy's mind… One he had the ability to execute.
I wonder how far I can go like this…
"Hang on a tick, I'll be right back." Billy said as he looked up into the sky at what appeared to be nothing in particular. "I want to see how far up I can get before I have to stop."
"Be careful, Butcher!" Marvin said insistently. "The first sign you get of shortness of breath or anything bad, you come right back! I don't wanna have to pick you up off the road if you pass out!"
Billy laughed.
"Alright, I gotcha. Back in a mo'!" He said before taking off into the air with a sound like a jet engine revving up.
Billy soared higher and higher into the sky, letting the surface fade away beneath him. He flew higher, through clouds, past planes, and across the countless miles of Earth's surface. The treetops and buildings were a distant sight beneath him if he squinted, but he found he didn't need to. His vision was clearer than he could ever remember it being. He could make out all kinds of small details on the surface, and if he focused, he could see raindrops forming inside the clouds. Billy darted closer to a billowing stormcloud, and ran his hand through it, disturbing the icy fluff of the vapor. He'd always wondered what it was like inside a thunderhead. No illustration or simulation satisfied him when he was younger... What harm could it really do? He wondered, before darting into the darkened tower of clouds.
The inside of the cloud was pitch-black, illuminated only briefly by the crackling of static electricity. Ice crystals and hailstones pattered harmlessly against Billy's skin, bouncing off like damp paintballs. The swirling turbulence of the cloud's innards caused Billy to swerve off of his intended flight path, and ripped the buttons from his colorful Hawaiian shirt, but the harsh wind and cold air felt like a cool early spring breeze to Billy, even as a thin layer of protection was partially stripped away. A ball of static electricity leapt off of a dark fluff of cloud and landed on Billy. He felt a light tingling sensation across his skin as tiny lightning bolts danced before his eyes. St. Elmo's fire! Billy thought with wonder. His held his hands before his face, and saw a faint glow around his hands.
Billy exploded from the cloud, and the glow faded from his body as he aimed ever higher in the sky. His clothes, skin and hair dried in the wind in mere moments as he dashed ever faster through the skies.
The air grew chilly, but Billy found the temperature didn't bother him even as the wind whipped at his clothes, skin, hair, and beard. His trenchcoat whipped and whirled in the wind as he flew, higher, higher, ever higher. Billy barely noticed the atmosphere fading away, until he realized he wasn't actually breathing anymore... He almost panicked, until he realised he wasn't breathing because he didn't actually need to breathe, but that knowledge was almost more unsettling.
Billy glanced back at the surface, at the clouds, and then back up at the stars.
I am bloody tiny, ain't I? Billy thought. Everyone... Everything is bloody tiny. Billy hadn't thought about how small he really was compared to the rest of the world in a long time. Not since he was a boy.
Billy drifted further from the Earth's orbit, until he could fit the image of the planet between his hands.
It's like I have the entire planet in my grasp... He thought. I could do just about anything I think of... And there ain't anyone who could stop me. Fuck, I'm flying in space without a suit, I'm already halfway there! Billy thought.
Another thought crossed his mind. This is the kind of thing Superman can see every day... Homelander, too. I can go anywhere, do anything...
And a voice that sounded a lot like Clark Kent spoke inside his head. You know what that means, right?
Billy gave the voice a mental nod. He knew. Responsibility. Not just to himself, his own selfish reasons for taking down Vought and Homelander... Not just to Becca and Ryan, to his team, to wee Hughie... To the world.
"What's your big idea?" He'd asked Superman.
"The same as its always been." The man of steel had replied. "Truth, justice, and the American way."
Truth, justice, Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness... Shit, there's worse things to live for. Billy Butcher was as British as fish and chips, but there were things about America that brought him there that weren't just about putting distance between himself and his father.
The world hadn't been great to Billy, but he'd gotten some things worth living for out of it... He'd fought tooth and nail what felt like his entire life to keep them, only for some of them to be ripped out of his grasp.
I can stop that. If someone tries the kinda shit people like Homelander and dad used to pull on me again... I can take it with a laugh... And if they try to do that to anyone else... I can stop it. No, it's not that I can... I have to. If I do any less, I ain't no better than Vought.
Billy scanned across the rapidly-spinning surface of the Earth, in search of what, he wasn't sure... Until he saw a tiny sparkle of light in sub-Saharan Africa.
Bloody hell, that's a big one. He thought as he tried to place the country. He'd deployed there a couple of times... Not while he was in the Army. Naiomi, Nairomi? Is that what it's called? Wasn't there a truce?
The thoughts almost left his mind as the knowledge of what he'd been thinking about previously took over, and he felt himself soaring, rocketing through space, back into the atmosphere, towards the explosion, before he'd even had a thought about what to do.
Republic of Nairomi: Capital City of Malaika
The Nairomian Civil War had been ongoing for months, though it'd sparked up and died down repeatedly for years before it was officially declared. Amajagh and his men picked at the edges of government forces and bases on the outskirts of the country, but they were never bold enough to strike Malaika. Not until they'd advanced and captured several bases, and all of the equipment inside. The tapes of the executions had made worldwide news, but were drowned out by Vought's constant PR buzz. Superman this, Homelander that, Supes in the military... Who wouldn't be deploying officially for another few weeks.
Abeba's home was too close to the fighting to evacuate when the fire began. Amajagh's men on one side, government forces on the other, and her family was caught in the middle. Her husband was a government soldier, and she was left behind with her two children. She worked as a seamstress, but when the shelling began, she immediately fled to her home, to her two children. Her daughter, Nia, and her son, Amari.
"Mama, what is happening?" Amari asked as Abeba rushed into the door. His and Nia's faces were awash with apprehension. They'd heard some of these sounds before, on the television, or from a great distance. Never this close.
"We have to get away from the fighting!" Abeba said to the two. "Pack some clothes, I will pack us food!"
Abeba's words were cut off as the roof of her home was torn asunder by artillery fire. Mortar and wood rained down on them, as the sunlight shone bright and harsh upon the three.
"Get in the corner!" She commanded, pointing to a corner behind the worn communal seating arrangement. Abeba upturned their meager dining table and dragged it into place beside the seat. Then, she herded her children into the corner, and left only her back exposed to the world above, as bullets, shells and other ordnance whistled ever louder overhead. Louder. Louder.
Please God. She prayed as she turned her children's faces away from the sounds of the weapons overhead, and into herself. Deliver us from this evil!
The woman grasped her children tightly as the whine of the shell grew into a deafening howl, that grew ever louder, as the sound sang out the notes of their incoming demise like the tolling of a funeral bell.
The sound was drowned out by the mad SNAP! of a sonic boom.
Then, a brilliant golden light shone so bright it pierced the woman's tightly-shut eyelids, and the howling of the shell stopped as though silenced by the hand of God himself.
She opened her eyes, and peered up from her hiding spot as timidly as a newborn kitten, to find what appeared to be a large black figure with wings hanging in the air above her. It appeared as though whoever, or whatever the figure was, had cut the shell in half, as it impacted in the side streets between the ruined houses of the residential district.
The figure hovered above them, and appeared to turn towards them briefly, until it took off like a freight train, accompanied by a sound not unlike one, into the distance.
General Amajagh was an opportunist at heart. His ideology drove him forward, but his ability to seize the chances he was given granted him his successes. Superman's intervention in Bialya had sent many of his contemporaries fleeing for cover, for fear of retribution from a man who could wade through a sea of bullets like they were a swarm of gnats. Amajagh plotted, and sprang the second he got news of the man of steel's departure.
Even the government had been terrified of Superman. They didn't know when he would strike, where he'd be next. Your typical Vought supes could be counted on to stay in their home countries. Superman was different. He was seemingly everywhere, and nowhere, all at once. This gave Amajagh the upper hand just long enough to unite the other insurgent groups under his command, and spring a surprise attack on not one, not two, but three valuable outposts, complete with their armaments. Guns, armored transports, tanks, and mobile artillery units.
By his calculations, he could overrun even the capital with what he had. Strike with one group at one area, retreat and send another group into another with different weapons, and cripple the response time of the military by shelling major roads... Even if he didn't take the city, it would take years to recover once the attack was completed.
The warlord watched Malaika's bombardment through binoculars gleefully, until a loud sound, a sound louder than a bomb, drowned out the noise of the ordnance for an instant. The sound was followed by a brilliant golden flash that sliced through the air like the righteous hand of God himself.
Amajagh started, and searched for the source of the light, the sonic boom that had shocked his men so that they'd ceased their barrage. He panned his binoculars across the sky, until he found a figure. A man in a billowing black trenchcoat, stretched out behind him like the wings of an angel of death. He wore a colorful button-up shirt beneath his coat, one that had come undone to reveal his undershirt... A brilliant blue one with a crimson shield upon it... With but a single letter inside, upon a field of sun yellow.
"Superman?" The warlord gasped in disbelief as he panned up to the man's face. No... Superman is clean-shaven. He thought as the man turned back to face the artillery line. The bearded man had a look of cold rage locked onto his face, and his green eyes left golden streaks in the air where he'd turned his head. In an instant, the man snapped from hovering above the ruined city, to the air above Amajagh and his men with a sound like a locomotive straight from the depths of hell.
"You speak English?" The bearded man asked in an accent native to the United Kingdom.
The question shocked Amajagh so that he could only nod in reply.
"Good." The man said, crossing his arms across the symbol upon his chest. "That means you'll understand what I'm about to say."
"What are you?" One of Amajagh's men demanded. The warlord shot the man a nasty, terrified look.
"The man let out a barking laugh as his eyes heated up from a low glow, to a brilliant golden light that hurt to look at. "You won't be alive long enough for that to matter.
The meaning of the man's words pierced Amajagh's mind as the light discharged from the man's eyes, and cut each of his men down where they stood.
He'd barely had time to register the carnage when the bearded man snapped in front of him, and grabbed him by the jaw.
The glow vanished from the man's eyes, but the cold rage did not.
"What do you think I'll do to you, after what I did to them?" The man asked indicating the corpses of Amajagh's compatriots.
The warlord could only shake his head and make incoherent noises in the iron grasp of the bearded man.
"I don't suppose you care, but there are children down there." The man growled. "And people ain't done nothin' to you, aside from them. Ain't done nothin' to deserve the hell you tried to rain down on them. They just had the bad luck to be caught in the middle o' your silly little conflict. What do you think they'd do to you, if they had a chance? Now I don't give two fucks about your generational conflict, or ideological bullshit! The only thing I care about is the people on that street back there you almost blew up! I've known bastards like you my entire life! Ever since I was a boy, men like you have beaten on anyone who'd let you, and damn anyone who gets in your way! The only difference is no flying man came down from the sky to save me or my brother from my father's hand!" The man's growl faded, as he took a deep breath, and centered himself. "That's gonna change now, savvy? No more blowing people up, no more insurgency, no more playing warlord, no more terrorism!"
A sly, even diabolical grin grew across the man's face. "Now, I've got myself a feeling them people down there have got a few better ideas what to do with you than I would. I'd make it quick, like I did your boys. Them... They'll make it count." He let go of Amajagh's jaw, and chopped him on the side of the neck, sending the warlord into instant unconsciousness.
Amajagh awoke in the fetal position, with his arms and legs bound behind him, and a thick piece of cloth tied around his mouth. He struggled to right himself, to catch a glimpse of where he was, of where he'd been left.
He saw buildings to one side of him, and buildings to the other... And a larger building between them. The capitol building. People crowded around him. Some looked at him... Some looked above.
"His men are dead. The war is over." A voice, the bearded man's voice, declared. "Dispense justice as you see fit."
A mighty SNAP! cracked the air, signaling the man's departure. The eyes of the crowd all descended to him.
The warlord attempted to right himself to a seated position, to pull his arms around in front of him to defend himself, to get to his feet and hop away futilely, but there was nowhere to run as the crowd descended upon him.
Billy flew like a rocket across the planet's surface until he reached New York City, then scanned the rooftops until he found a building with unlocked roof access, and descended to the rooftop as lightly as he could manage, and breathed a sigh of relief as his feet touched the roof without leaving a mark.
He'd taken no pleasure in deposing the warlord... But, all the same, it felt... Right. Like he'd had one burden lifted from his shoulders, only to heft a heavier one he was somehow now more fit to carry. He'd spoken from the heart when he spoke to the man, and he could only hope that nobody connected him with what had happened... But at this point, he didn't care. Not like anyone can stop me... Maybe not even him. He thought as a blonde-haired bastard flashed before his eyes.
He opened the door, and took the stairs down a floor. He reached for the door to exit the stairwell, but froze when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the rectangular window of the door.
He hasn't paid much attention to his appearance in a while. Seemed like all he'd done to keep things presentable since Becca vanished was bathe, shampoo, and exercise. He hadn't touched a razor in years, or a trimmer in months...
Bloody hell, I look a right mess, eh? Billy thought. He hadn't thought about it in so long, but he hadn't had many positive thoughts in years. All he'd had was a singular focus...
Billy sought out the nearest public restroom in the building, and, after ensuring it was empty, locked the door behind him, wet his beard with the water from the sink, and withdrew a combat knife from his right boot.
He carefully drew the razor-sharp knife across the hairs of his neck... And none of them fell away. Billy raised an eyebrow, and cut more aggressively. Still nothing.
He withdrew the knife, and examined the blade... The carefully honed edge wasn't exactly full, but it'd been worn down in the spot he'd tried to shave with it.
"Bloody hell." He chuckled. "Can't even cut my hair anymore..." And then he caught a glimpse of his eyes in the mirror.
Maybe I have another option. He thought as he dried and resheathed the knife. Laser's a laser, right?
Billy stared into the mirror, and carefully allowed his eyes to heat up, until they emitted two thin beams of golden light that bounced off the mirror, and ended in harmless warm spots on his face, where they severed his beard hairs from his face.
Almost can't believe it's working!
Carefully, Billy panned his gaze around his face until he was clean-shaven for the first time since Becca had vanished.
Damn, I look at least ten years younger. Billy thought. It felt like taking off a mask, like a weight had been lifted from his head with every hair he'd shorn from his face.
Billy gathered the stray fibers of his beard and tossed them into the trash.
Billy took the elevator to the ground floor of the building, and strolled out through the lobby of the dentist's office that the floor housed. He was about to leave through the swinging doors at the front, when a sight on the lobby's TV caught his eye.
"Cameron, I'd love to elaborate," Homelander said to Cameron Coleman. "But, I believe this is the best time to announce that you can find out the whole story, word for word, in Vought Studios' next feature film!"
"Always happy to hear about true stories coming to the theater, Homelander!" Cameron replied. "I loved you in Darkest Day, and I can't wait to see you in this new movie!"
Homelander gave the slightest grimace, but he quickly turned it into a phony grin.
"Sorry to say, Cameron, with the new assignments, I won't be able to make the shooting schedule. But, my trusty stand-in, Antony Starr, will be taking my place in the film. He's been my understudy for years, and I trust him to perform my parts true-to-life. I'm especially confident in his ability to bring a few brilliant revelations to the screen exactly as they were… Including things even I didn't know about before recently."
"If he has your faith, that's all that matters!" Cameron replied.
If he was stroking off the cunt's ego any more, he'd be blowing him on live TV. Billy thought with a smirk.
"But given the circumstances of his departure," Cameron continued. "Who will be playing Superman?"
Homelander's face briefly contorted as his body flinched ever so slightly. The mention of the man of steel's name alone caused the star-spangled bastard's facade to drop, even if it was only for a moment.
"Well, we're currently holding some closed auditions at the studio," Homelander said through a fake smile and gritted teeth. "And we have it narrowed down to a few people we think can get the job done."
"Any hint at a title for the movie?" Cameron asked.
Homelander inhaled, and began to speak.
"Su-" He stopped in his tracks, as he started at the sight of something on the teleprompter. "Superman… Superman and Homelander: Krypton's Finest."
The large red and yellow S shield that Superman wore on his chest plastered itself across the video panels in the studio. Homelander looked around the studio at every panel in shock for an instant, then transformed his look into a facade of pleasant surprise… But the initial reaction wasn't lost on Billy.
He can't bloody stand seeing that symbol. It makes him… Nervous. More nervous than I've ever seen the bastard. Maybe I can use that to keep him away from the kid, if worse comes to worst.… Billy thought as he ran his fingers over the logo on his chest absentmindedly. I should pay Franky another visit, get something for Ryan.
"Nice shirt." The receptionist at the dentist commented to Billy. "You a fan?"
Billy looked down, then shot the woman a smile.
"Hell yeah I am."
"Now about the new suit," Cameron Coleman continued on the TV as Billy departed the office. "Why did you feel the need to hide yourself for so long?"
"Body image, unfortunately." Homelander said as the emblems faded away from the screen. His demeanor shifted as he slipped into his comfort zone. "I thought people would think I wasn't heroic enough if I was skinny. Soldier Boy was jacked, and he was my idol growing up. I always felt inadequate without my suit, so I… Added some musculature. Superman helped me realize I didn't have to live a lie just because it's what people expected."
Billy left the office behind, and found his way back to Franky, the street vendor.
"Franky!" Billy exclaimed. "Need a couple of these in kids' medium to large."
"Getting them for your son?" Franky asked.
Billy shrugged in response. He really didn't want to have that conversation.
"Want to give the kid some room to grow into it, you know?"
"For you man, I got anything you need." Franky said as he dug into a box underneath the table. He pulled a plastic crate out from under the table, then froze. The street-vendor paled, and stiffened up at something behind Billy.
"Hey limey!" A familiar voice shouted from behind Billy. "Get your damn hands up, and turn around real slow, gotcha?" It was Jimmy.
Billy sighed, and raised his hands, but turned a little bit quicker than he would've if he'd been in this situation a month ago. A quick scan with Billy's regular vision confirmed that Jimmy and his gang were all armed with handguns.
"Easy!" Jimmy said, gesturing with his pistol. "Take your gun out, drop it on the street."
Billy smirked, and reached down to his coat gingerly, and pulled it back to reveal he didn't even have a holster on him.
"No such luck, Jimbo." Billy said, and let his coat and arms drop.
"You know, you're pretty fucking stupid showin' your whole-ass face around here, especially without a piece. Now I got a gun, and you ain't foolin' us with your tricks again!"
"I wouldn't talk about showin' my face with a mug like yours, mate." Billy said with a laugh. "I might look like Bones McCoy, but you're edgin' up on Klingon!"
Jimmy snarled, and pulled the trigger.
The hammer struck the primer, and detonated the powder. The slide popped back, and the shell and gas ejected from the chamber. The bullet exited the barrel, and flew towards Billy's face.
Billy snatched the copper-clad projectile from the air a mere yard from his nose as casually as if he were swatting a fly. The action made Frank, Jimmy, and Jimmy's gang gawk in shock.
"Nine millimeter fragmenting hollow point." Billy said as he casually examined the bullet, much to the shock and dismay of his attackers. "Looks like a RIP cartridge. You went to all that trouble for little ol' me?" Billy asked with a sly grin and a laugh as he let the bullet drop to the pavement. Like a bolt of lightning, Billy snatched the gun away from Jimmy with his right hand, and crushed it to bits, bending the metal and breaking the composite material with just his grip strength. He raised his hand to the eye levels of the dismayed gangsters, and opened it, allowing the shattered pieces of the firearm to drop to the ground.
"Guess you lot wanted to make an example out of this little showing." Billy said as he dusted off his hands, then grabbed Jimmy by a nerve between his shoulder and neck, and lifted him off his feet. "Take this as mine." Billy said as Jimmy squirmed futilely in his grasp. The others held their hands in their own weapons, but didn't dare draw them. "If I can do that, imagine what else I can do. Now, I want you lot to get the fuck out of dodge, and if I see you around here, or if I see you somewhere else shakin' someone else down..." Billy focused his eyes on Jimmy, and grinned as he allowed his body to push power into his eyes. The tingling, almost itching sensation built in his eyes until he knew they were glowing, then he cut them off, and allowed the energy to dissipate as light. "I'll have to make a worse example."
Billy released Jimmy's shoulder, allowing the tough to drop to his feet roughly, where he slipped, and landed on his back. The gangsters scattered like cockroaches when the lights came on as Jimmy scrambled to his feet to join them. Not one of them went the same direction.
"Holy shit, man! That was amazing!" Franky exclaimed as Billy turned around and pulled out his wallet. "Take whatever you want, on the house!"
Billy shook his head, and tossed the money down onto the table.
"Couldn't let you do that, Franky!" Billy said as the vendor handed him the shirts. "You'd put yourself out of business like that!"
Becca Butcher's House, inside the Vought Compound...
Becca Butcher heard a knock at her back door, and practically jumped out of her skin. Ryan was inside, in bed. He was the only one who ever went in the backyard except her, so she had absolutely no idea who it could be.
Please don't let it be Homelander. She thought as she rushed to the back door. When she caught a glimpse of the figure who'd knocked through the glass of the door, the sight of who lounged against the doorframe shocked her as much as it had when Homelander had brought him to the front door not too long ago. It was a man with shaggy black hair, and a black trenchcoat over a brightly-colored Hawaiian shirt and black cargo pants. Unlike his appearance a few days ago, he was shaven as clean as he'd been... Before. It was her husband, Billy Butcher.
"Billy!" She exclaimed under her breath as she yanked him inside the house. She shut the door behind him as quietly as her unsteady hands would allow. "How the hell did you get in here?" She demanded as she stalked around the house, shutting all of the blinds and closing every curtain.
Billy's face spread into a light smirk. "Security's tight, but they have themselves a big ol' 'ole up there." Billy said, stabbing a finger towards the roof.
Becca shut the last pair of curtains and pulled Billy close.
"Did anyone see you?" She asked. "Billy, there are so many people watching us here, you don't-"
Billy pressed his right index finger against her lips, cutting Becca off.
"Shhh." Billy said with an unsettlingly warm tone. "It's alright. There's not a camera in here with a frame of me on it, and you're the only one who caught a glimpse of me."
"How?"
"I've got friends in high places." Billy replied slyly. "Listen, I'm going to get you two out of here. Homelander told me he wants to make Ryan his sidekick..."
Becca's heart sunk. "No..."
"Yeah..." Billy trailed off. "How is he?"
"What?"
"Ryan, how is he?" Billy asked. "Good kid? Seemed like it to me, but I found I'm not really the best judge of character."
"Uh- Yeah, he's... He's..." Becca slumped into his arms, sobbing.
Billy chuckled, and wiped the tears from Becca's eyes with a finger. "Of course he is, you couldn't raise anything but, eh?" Billy pulled some rolls of blue cloth out of his trenchcoat and pressed them into Becca's hands. "Give him these. Tell him to wear them every day under his jacket. If Homelander comes by, if he's ever in any danger, tell him it'll help him."
Becca unfurled one of the rolls, revealing a red diamond-shaped shield with a wide, winding S inside of it, on a field of bright yellow.
Becca looked up at Billy questioningly.
"It stands for hope." Billy said. "Truth, justice, the American way and all that. Homelander can't hardly stand the sight of it. Might buy you some time if you gotta get away from him before the boys and I break you out."
Billy swallowed uncomfortably, glanced around the room, then looked Becca directly in the eyes.
"Listen, uh-" He stammered. "Is he uh- Does he- Does he have anything like... His father?" Billy could barely bring himself to say the red white and blue bastard's name.
"What?" Becca asked.
"Any.. abilities?" Billy asked. "Can he fly, is he strong?"
Becca nodded. "Yeah, he's strong. Practically clawed his way out of me when he was born. He doesn't realize it, most of the time. It's just how things are to him. I tried my best to show him how to use it, but sometimes he breaks a jar of pickles or something. I don't think he can fly, but his eyes glow sometimes. They glowed when he was... Inside. That's how I knew."
Billy pulled Becca in tight, and buried her head in his shoulder. "Shhh. Everything's gonna be alright." He said, stroking her hair. "I'll be back soon, okay? We're planning a distraction to get Vought off our backs for good. We'll leave a big enough crater here they'll give us all up for dead. Then we can go wherever we want, alright?"
Becca nodded, and pulled away.
"Listen, Billy," she whispered. "I-"
Billy pulled her in for a kiss, then pulled away, a small smile on his face.
"I know."
Billy opened the door, then shut it behind him, and walked away from the building. Becca followed him for as long as she could.
"Mom?" Ryan's voice snapped Becca back to reality, and she turned away from the door. "What's up?"
"Nothing, honey." She said, kneeling down to tussle his hair. "Go back to bed."
In the distance, she thought she heard the mighty CRACK of an object moving faster than the speed of sound.
Becca yanked the back door open in a panic. She scanned the skies for a sign of Homelander. For a sign of anything that might have made that sound other than him.
In the air, she thought she saw a small black speck roaring through the air. She couldn't identify it, but something told her it wasn't what she thought it was. It was too fast to be a bird, too small to be a plane, too dark to be Homelander.
"Are you alright?" Ryan asked as he followed her into the yard, rubbing his eyes.
Becca let her gaze fall from the sky, back to her son.
"I think so, honey. Let's go back inside."
Author's Note:
Many apologies for the long hiatus, but I was studying for my black belt test. (Among a great many other events and obligations I had to fulfill) Good news, I passed!
Better news/bad news, the new season of The Boys has irked me in such a way that I have regained my creative spark for this series, and should be back with semi-regular updates. I've spent the last couple of days binging Gen V and rewriting my drafts for future material as I dread picking back up with Season 4.
Please, leave any questions or other comments below!
(And feel free to play Superman (It's Not Easy) by Five For Fighting during Billy's flying scene.)