Sitting on the sofa in the living room of the hotel, Victoria sunk down into the cushions and closed her eyes tightly for a second as she considered what Daniella was saying to her. She reached down and unzipped the side of her boots, leaving them on the floor and tucking her legs underneath herself as she thought about her husband for a brief moment, remembering how he had been in the room just five minutes ago and Victoria had tried to stay away from him.

"Why would you want to help me?" Victoria asked Daniella.

Her friend sat down on the other side of the sofa. Leaning back, she crossed her legs and draped an arm over the back of the sofa. She still wore her beige coat, but had unbuttoned it and left it loose around her frame to reveal a turtleneck white jumper tucked into beige cigarette trousers over ankle boots. Her hair was sleek and in a neat bob. She looked so much more professional than she ever had when they'd lived together. Victoria, on the other hand, felt like a mess dressed in her short skirt and jumper that she was pretty sure had a stain on the bottom of it.

"Because I can," Daniella said. "And because, at one time, you were my friend and I…I know that I fucked up. I left you alone when you needed me the most because you had no one."

Victoria moved a hand to her temple, rubbing her forehead as she felt a headache coming on. "I know why you left," she said to Daniella. "I mean, it sucked, but I do get it. There wasn't anything you could've done for me back then."

"But there are things that I can do for you now," Daniella said.

"What?" Victoria questioned.

"I'm a good lawyer, Victoria," Daniella said and Victoria wanted to snort. Her friend certainly wasn't being modest anymore. Daniella had always been the one who had worked the hardest. She'd taken an internship at a top law firm and had worked her way up. She had always excelled in mooting competitions, able to destroy her opposition with well-crafted arguments and withering putdowns.

"I know that, but I don't really need a lawyer right now," Victoria said.

"No, what you need is someone who knows how to build on your popularity," Daniella said. "You need someone who can manage you…help you make the most convincing arguments you can against your husband. That video you posted was honest and it played well, but if you keep doing videos like that then it's only a matter of time before Vought label you some nutjob. You would go up against the likes of Firecracker and you've seen her following, right? You've seen how popular she is?"

"Hard to miss it," Victoria scoffed. "I tried to tell John not to let her join."

"Well, she's there now and she's going nowhere and people listen to her," Daniella said. "You need an actual strategy. You need to go on talk shows…you need to show up to rallies…you need a team behind you who can help you build your momentum. You keep making little selfie videos and eventually people won't listen to you. You need more credibility and I can help you. I can help you get that because I know how to. I worked at the Starlight House. I saw how it operated and it was good, but they destroyed Annie because they had dirt on her…the fact of the matter is that they won't destroy you because Homelander would never let any dirt on you be made public. You're in a privileged position to speak out against him. You're his wife."

Victoria considered what Daniella was saying and she knew it made sense. She knew that if she was going to take her husband on then she needed to become more comfortable doing the things she'd always hated doing. She'd have to get better at public speaking. She'd have to get better at being able to hold debates and challenge opinions. Most interviews she'd done with Homelander usually consisted on how she managed to juggle a career and being married to the most powerful man on the planet. How did she keep her husband happy?

"I don't know how to be in the public eye by myself," Victoria confessed. "He was always there. I've never done anything alone…not like this."

"And I get that it's scary," she assured her friend. "But you can do it. You have to do it because you're the only one who can stand up against him and he won't laser you in half. I know that you'd rather not do this and I get it, but you can."

"Can I?" Victoria wondered. "I thought that I could and I've threatened that I would, but I'm not entirely sure how or where to start."

"That's why you have me," Daniella said. "You have me because I know how to do this. I know how to handle people…media management…I can do it. For all intents and purposes, I'll be your manager. I'll help guide you through all of this and you won't have to be alone, Vic, you don't have to be alone again because I'll be there…just like I should've been from the start."

Victoria raked her hands through her hair and she knew that she had to say yes. There wasn't really any other option. If this was how she was going to keep Evie and Ryan safe then so be it. If she was going to be someone who her kids looked up to then she knew it was the right thing to do.

"And I know that none of this excuses how I treated you…especially at Michelle's funeral," Daniella said and she felt her voice begin to break on mentioning their friend's name. "I should've known back then that something wasn't right and you'd just had Evie…gone through giving birth prematurely…I just…I was so angry with you at the thought that you would stand by a man like him."

"It wasn't as if I had much of a choice," Victoria replied. "At the time he threatened everyone I cared about and it wasn't as if he'd let me go when I'd had his baby. That was never going to happen and so I just tried to make the best of a bad situation…keep him happy…hope that by keeping him happy that it kept him away from other people."

Daniella watched as Victoria uncurled herself from the sofa and stood up. She started pacing, her hands going to her hips and tilting her head back, eyes glancing to the ceiling. Daniella leant forwards, clasping her hands together in between her spread legs.

"I can't even begin to imagine what it's been like," Daniella told her. "Living with him must've been hell."

"That's the worst part," Victoria confessed. "It wasn't always difficult. He…what we have isn't easy to talk about or explain. All I know is that I do need to do this. I need to stand up for what I believe in and that's not what he believes in."

"And that's why I want to help," Daniella said to her. "I want to help you and I'm not pretending we're going to be best friends, but I get the feeling that maybe you could use someone on your side."

"You know it's risky, don't you?" Victoria checked, meeting her eye. "You have Georgina to think about…what does she say about all of this?"

"My fiancée," Daniella clarified, holding her hand up and showing Victoria her ring, "is actually the one who keeps pushing me to help you. She yelled at me for how I behaved at Michelle's funeral. She was the one who convinced me to go to Annie and try to find the truth out. She's going to stand by me no matter what. She's also a pretty good lawyer herself."

Victoria glanced to the ring on Daniella's finger and her lips arched. She reached for her own hand and felt the absence of her wedding and engagement ring, an ache rising up in her chest at the empty space. "I'm happy for you," Victoria said earnestly. "You two deserve to be happy together and I don't doubt you will be."

"I don't doubt it either," Daniella said. "But you don't need to worry about us. We want to help."

"I just don't know where to start," Victoria confessed and Daniella moved to her feet. She stood in front of her friend and moved a hand to Victoria's forearm, her grip soft and gentle. Looking her in the eye, Daniella could see that Victoria was nervous. She was clearly apprehensive and a part of her was scared of what was coming to her.

"I know where to start," Daniella told her. "We can do this together. I know I've been a shit friend and I am so sorry, but I'm not going anywhere now. I just need you to trust me."

"And I need you to know what you might be risking," Victoria said. "John doesn't play fair. He plays dirty. I can't promise you protection because I don't know if I have that power over him anymore. I just don't know, Daniella."

"Let me worry about me," Daniella said. "I can do this. We can do this together."

Nodding her head just once was enough for Daniella to wrap her arms around Victoria, holding her tight. Victoria moved her arms around her friend as well and let her forehead drop to rest on Daniella's shoulder. She wasn't sure what was going to happen. She just hoped that it would be enough.

"I think Michelle would be happy with us," Daniella said and Victoria clung onto her tighter as she felt tears begin to pool in her eyes. "Wherever she is, she'd be happy now…I'm sure of it."

….

A part of Homelander couldn't actually believe that he was in the White House. He couldn't quite believe that things had turned out exactly as he'd hoped they would. He'd gone in front of the nation and he'd delivered his speech. The acting President, who was due to be sworn in, had declared martial law. Supes were being deployed to round up Starlighters. And they all answered to Homelander. They answered to him and he was the one in charge. He'd stood on that podium and he felt something he'd never felt before. He didn't know how to explain it, but for a brief moment he felt content. He felt as though this was it for him. After a lifetime scaling to the top of Vought, the moment he became captain of The Seven felt nothing like standing on that podium.

After he'd addressed the nation, he'd left the White House, knowing that he'd be back sooner rather than later. He'd flown back to Vought Tower to see how plans were coming along to round up the Starlighters. The correctional facilities were all up and ready and they'd started assembling teams of supes to find wherever the rats were hiding. Walking into the meeting room, he saw Deep, Noir and Firecracker stood by the screens and his eyes narrowed.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"Homelander, sir," Firecracker said, jumping and quickly pressing pause on the remote she was holding. "We watched your speech. It was so inspirational…perfect…"

"I know," Homelander said. "But that doesn't explain why my wife's face is currently on TV."

Homelander looked to it and saw Victoria sat there on some sofa. She was on The Mary Morris Show by the looks of the beige décor with the familiar curved sofa she was perched on. She was wearing a plum dress with a square neckline and had her hair curled, hanging down her back and around her shoulders in soft waves. She was sat up straight, legs crossed and fingers laced together on her kneecap.

"You see, sir, she…well…she did an interview."

"I can see that," Homelander said, annoyance in his voice at them treading on eggshells around him. "What is she doing there?"

"She did an interview at the same time you delivered your speech at the White House," Deep piped up, trying to be bolder and give Homelander the information he wanted considered Firecracker seemed almost too apprehensive. "She watched your speech on TV and…well…she criticised it, sir," Deep concluded.

Homelander's brows furrowed, but instead of looking angry, he looked amused. "She really did it, huh?" he muttered to himself and clasped his hands behind his back. Rocking back and forth on his heels, his lips tugged upwards. "What did she say?" he asked the room.

"What you would expect her to say," Firecracker answered then. "Her message was nowhere near as good as yours and she looked nervous throughout."

"I didn't ask that, did I?" Homelander retorted smarmily.

"She disagreed with the approach being taken," Deep said and Firecracker shot him a look as he shrugged at her. If she wasn't going to give him the answers then he would do it. "She said how martial law wasn't the answer and rounding up Starlighters would just enflame things. She thinks that the election should be redone…claims that people need to vote for someone who they know…"

"A do-over?" Homelander checked. "So, she wasn't calling for Singer to be reinstated?"

"No, sir," Firecracker said. "She said that she didn't agree with his politics, but that he should have a fair trial if he was involved in an assassination attempt to kill Victoria Neuman."

Homelander's eyes scrunched up then. She knew who had killed Neuman. She knew that it had been her brother, but she also knew that there was evidence against Singer. He had, in fact, ordered The Boys to kill Neuman. His hands weren't clean. But Victoria wasn't going to throw her brother under the bus. Or was she protecting him because there was a lack of evidence? All of the evidence pointed to Singer. If she claimed otherwise then people would think she was some kind of conspiracy theorist and Homelander knew that wasn't the approach his wife was going for. She wasn't willing to be tarnished with the same brush as Firecracker.

"I need the room," Homelander settled on saying.

"Sir, I'm recording Truthbomb in an hour. Do you want me to mention her interview?"

"No," Homelander said.

"But…sir…"

"I said no," Homelander said, voice snapping at Firecracker as he refused to look away from the screen. "Everyone out. Now."

He heard them all scurry away before the door closed behind them. He reached for the remote that Firecracker had dropped on the end of the meeting table and he hit play, watching as his wife began talking on the screen.

"I know what we've just seen. I know that we've just seen my husband practically move the President of the United States from the podium…he's in charge of all of these supes who have been tasked with rounding up Starlighters, but what does that even mean? Anyone who supported Starlight's cause should be put into jail? I don't think that's right. The foundation of any healthy democracy is the ability to engage in debate."

The camera panned onto Mary who had her cards on her lap and her dyed-blonde hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She wore a navy suit with a white shirt. Homelander knew it was smart why she'd gone for The Mary Morris show. Mary Morris had trained as a lawyer too. She'd been involved in high-profile legal cases and had turned to be a TV host, interviewing high-profile individuals from numerous institutions. She didn't do celebrities. She interviewed heads of states. She quizzed Secretary-Generals. She was a good choice.

"And you're worried that won't happen under the new administration?"

"I think any type of administration that invokes martial law should be feared," Victoria said and Homelander noticed her tuck her hair behind her ear. She always did that when she was apprehensive. No doubt the interview had her on edge. Homelander wouldn't be surprised by that. She was doing her first TV interview by herself. "I don't think it's necessary. I think what is necessary is that the people of the United States be protected, but that can be done without enlisting the help of an army of supes. And who specifically are they going to be looking for? What level of dissent will be tolerated? Or will no dissent be tolerated and people thrown in jail? And the legal process. No one can be arrested without the right to a fair trial. I just don't quite see how any of this is going to work."

"And how do you think this should be handled? We are in an unprecedented situation. The President has been accused of having his VP murdered. The VP was a closeted supe. There's riots on the streets…people scared to leave their homes…what is the answer?"

Victoria was quiet then, clearly not entirely sure what to say for a moment. She seemed to compose herself quickly though, hands moving from her kneecap to fold over her lap.

"I don't pretend to have the answer. I don't think I'm qualified to tell anyone what should happen…but my opinion on all of this is that we need to work together. Supes and humans need to work together because I think we all inherently want the same goal. We don't want violence. We want our families to be safe…our kids to grow up feeling safe…and that can only happen if people come together. This martial law…this army of superheroes…it will only make people feel unsafe and we don't need that. We need to come together and I think the only way we can do that is through another election."

Homelander paused the TV show then, looking at his wife's face before his gaze flickered across to the social media stats and the viewership numbers. His speech at the White House had outperformed his wife's viewing figures. But then he looked at social media. Clips from her appearance were trending higher than he was. Homelander's jaw tensed up and he folded his arms over his chest. Reaction to what she'd said had mostly been positive. There were the few odd comments criticising her for not understanding and calling her numerous names, but for the most part, she seemed to have gone down well. Clearly, he had underestimated her.

But she had to keep it going. She had to keep the momentum going and he wasn't sure if she could do that.

"Oh, sweetheart, let the games begin."

…

"You're trending at number one and since your interview you've had about ninety-eight requests to do more…magazines…newspapers…TV shows," Daniella said, glued to her phone as the two of them walked out of the studio together after Victoria had finished in the dressing room. They moved together, their heels clicking against the wooden floor as they moved in sync. Daniella kept the phone in her right hand, her other hand in her pant pocket. "I'll need to look over them and discover which ones we should accept. Plus, I think we need to set you up with a petition…petitioning against martial law…perhaps see if we can raise funds to launch a judicial review to examine the decision?"

"You think Homelander will let that happen? You saw his trial, right?" Victoria checked with her friend and they came outside to the car that was waiting for them. Daniella was proving to be better at all of this than Victoria could've ever dreamed of being. She'd prepped her for the interview and even stood with her in the bathroom as she dry-heaved out of anxiety. She didn't think she could do it, but Daniella had persuaded her that she could. And she had done it. She'd sat on the stage and she'd done what was necessary.

"This is different," she replied with a shake of her head, climbing into the car and Victoria followed her in, slipping next to her on the backseat. "This is an entire administration and he can't stop everyone. He might think he can, but if he does then people will see him for who he is: a deranged dictator."

Victoria scoffed at that and she pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket. She was cold without her coat, but she knew she'd be back at the hotel room soon enough. She had somehow managed to persuade Natalie to leave Vought and work exclusively for her. She knew that she had enough money to do it, but she didn't want to be taken away from her daughter forever. She trusted Natalie though. She knew she would always put Evelyn first and never hurt her.

She scrolled through her inbox. Daniella had access to it too, alongside her social media accounts. For all intents and purposes, she was now her manager. Victoria looked to her messages, seeing some texts from some numbers she didn't know, but then she saw his message. She felt her heart skip a beat and her stomach flip as she clicked on his name.

Good job, sweetheart, but we both know you won't win.

She didn't bother to reply to him, knowing that ignoring him was for the best.

…

A week had gone by and Victoria wasn't overly thrilled about going back into Vought Tower. She'd done several more media appearances and found herself getting up early in the morning and getting home late at night. She hadn't had chance to spend as much time with Evelyn as she'd liked. She preferred her daughter to stay in the hotel room where she knew she was safe with Natalie. But then Saturday had rolled around and she knew what she'd promised her husband. She'd text him to tell him that she could be there at eleven a.m. but he had told her to make it one p.m. She suspected he was just playing games with her.

"Daddy!"

Evelyn called his name loudly as she saw him moving towards them in the foyer. Victoria hadn't expected him to greet them there. She still had keys to the penthouse and she'd put them into her bag, more than prepared to let herself in. Then again, should she do that? She'd moved out. She'd even been looking online for new apartments.

"Hey, sweetpea," Homelander said and he crouched down as Evelyn let go of her mother's hand and rushed towards her father. He held his arms out to her and picked her up as soon as she was in front of him. He hauled her into his arms, embracing her tightly and feeling her small arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him. "I've missed you, baby."

"I missed you too, daddy," Evelyn replied to him and his lips arched. He pulled his head back and looked over her, holding her with one arm and raising his hand to brush down the back of her head and then pecking her on top of her head.

"How about we go upstairs and play, huh? I've even got cake…your favourite toys…"

Evelyn nodded at him and then he looked over the top of her head and his eyes met his wife's. The smile remained on his face and he saw that Victoria was clinging to the satchel by her side. She cocked her head to the side and arched a brow.

"Is the penthouse safe?" she wondered from him.

"I had it renovated," Homelander said to her and she suspected he hated the mess. "I take it you'll be coming up?"

"I told you it would be supervised," Victoria reminded him.

"I am more than capable of looking after our daughter," Homelander said, trying to keep his tone light so that Evelyn didn't suspect something was wrong with her parents. "I mean, I imagine you've got more interviews to do, right? That spread of you in Vanity Fair was really quite something."

"Aww, you've been following me," Victoria said, finding it far too easy to taunt him. He chuckled and bounced Evelyn in his arms. Victoria walked by him towards the elevators and he followed her, falling into step next to her. "I can always sign you a copy if you like?"

"You know, this fame of yours is going to be fleeting," Homelander warned his wife. "Besides, we're in the process of recruiting supes to patrol every town across America. They'll root out Starlighters soon enough and then everyone will fall in line."

"I love how optimistic you are," Victoria said to her husband, a smile also on her face as she pressed the button in the elevator for the penthouse level.

"I'd say just realistic," Homelander replied and Victoria had to admit that a part of her was enjoying winding him up. She folded her arms over her chest as Homelander went back to talking to Evelyn, whispering in a higher pitched voice than usual. Evelyn laughed at her father and for a moment Victoria felt a pang in her chest. He could've had a family. He could've had a normal life if only things had been different.

Coming to the penthouse, Victoria let him go ahead of her. Moving into it, she saw that it was almost exactly like it had been before he had destroyed everything. He'd even had her desk and bookshelves replaced by the window, all of the books on it that he'd destroyed. Victoria was slightly bemused, but even more so when she saw that he'd had her PhD reframed and hung back up on the wall, the photo of the two of them on their wedding day on the desk. He'd even gotten a new sofa. Gona was the brown leather sofa Victoria hated and in place was a fabric u-shaped sofa she'd always tried to persuade him to buy. He had even painted the walls a neutral cream like Victoria had always wanted.

"Daddy…new apartment?" Evelyn questioned as he sat down with her on the sofa, holding her in his lap.

"Daddy just decorated," Homelander replied and Victoria wondered if this was part of him trying to manipulate her. She didn't know and she wasn't going to push him on it. She kept quiet, dropping her satchel onto the floor and shrugging out of her coat. Homelander took a glance to his wife as she looked around the apartment, drinking in the sight of her in her short skirt with thick tights and a slouchy green jumper with flared sleeves.

Did she not understand that he had done this for her? He had done it for her to see that she had a home to come back to? It was always going to be her home, but she just needed to accept it.

"Do you want to see your new room?" Homelander asked from Evie.

"Yes!" she yelled and Victoria watched her slip off his lap to stand up. He took her hand and walked with her up the stairs as Victoria gave them space.

She headed into the kitchen, but that was the same considering he hadn't ruined it. She reached for the kettle and placed it on the stove to boil. Her teabags were still in the usual cupboard alongside her chocolate stash. He hadn't changed anything. She suspected that if she went to the bedroom then she would still find her clothes there. She pulled her phone out and looked at the to-do list that Daniella had sent her for the upcoming week. Alongside talks in New York, Daniella wanted her to go further afield. Victoria didn't know how comfortable she was with that. She would have to take Evie with her and she didn't know how her daughter would react to so much travelling. She just needed time to think about it.

Once the kettle had boiled, Victoria poured her tea into her usual floral mug that was still on the worktop. She carried it upstairs after tugging her boots from her feet and stood in the doorway of her daughter's room, looking at the two of them as they sat on the floor together. Homelander was watching Evelyn dash around her new room which was now in a sage green colour with yellow accents including bedding and cushions, plus a small chair in the corner by a tiny bookcase. All of her toys were scattered around the room on the deep grey carpet and she was excited to be playing with the new ones that Homelander had bought her.

Victoria left them alone, figuring she should pack some more of her things that she needed. She went into the master bedroom and set her mug down on the vanity unit after taking a sip of it. She saw the teddy bear that her brother had given her years ago on top of the dresser and she picked it up, looking at it and thinking of Billy. Where was he? Was he being safe? Was he going to stop? Could she even get through to him now? She didn't think she could and that terrified her. The brother who had given her that stuffed animal was so much more different to the one who had left her in that warehouse.

But she still picked it up and put it in a suitcase.

…

"Evie's having a nap," Homelander informed his wife.

He had heard her packing another suitcase in the master bedroom before she'd gone downstairs and sat on the sofa, leaning back and playing on her phone to pass the time. She put the device down and frowned.

"I could've gotten her home before she fell asleep," Victoria said.

"Well, she's fine napping in her bedroom," Homelander waved a nonchalant hand and he sat down on the other end of the sofa. "Besides, it gives us a chance to talk, doesn't it?" he said to her and she rolled her eyes. She shrugged her shoulders at him and cocked her head.

"What do you want to talk about?" she asked him. "We've said all that there is to say."

"Oh, but we haven't," Homelander retorted to her, seeming almost smarmy. "I take it you haven't had much time for Evie this week judging by how busy you've been. I can't seem to go anywhere without seeing your face challenging the administration."

"Evie is fine. Besides, it won't be forever, will it?" Victoria said. "Anyway, it's not as if you're not busy, John."

"Yeah, but I didn't poach the nanny," Homelander said and Victoria chuckled and shook her head. She tucked her legs beneath her body and draped her arms over her lap. Homelander spread his legs, hands clasping hold of thighs. "Good move, by the way. You're lucky Evie likes her or I'd have taken care of her."

"What? Like you tried to take care of Ashley?" Victoria wondered from him and his face contorted then and Victoria knew she had him. "You think I don't know? She phoned me, John. She was in pieces…scared for her life…she wanted me to help her because she knew you were going to kill her for knowing too much. I mean, she's been a pain in the ass, but she's not a fundamentally bad person. She's saved our asses more than a few times from the press or are you forgetting that?"

He still remained quiet, jaw tense and eyes staring straight into his wife's.

"You remember, but you just don't care," Victoria said. "And that's the issue, John. You don't care who you hurt."

"That's bullshit."

"I don't count," Victoria said and he had no comeback to that. "And what about Ryan? Have you seen him? Do you even know where he is? He texts me and tells me he's fine, but he needs space. He's a twelve-year old boy. He needs to come home."

"And what home would that be?"

"So long as I know where he is and he's safe then that's a first step," Victoria said to her husband. "Do you know where he is?"

"Of course I fucking know where is," Homelander hissed at her. "But unlike you, he isn't answering my texts. I have access to White House resources. I can find supes. I can find my son, but I'm giving him the space he needs to come to terms with what he found out. He'd never have had to know if you hadn't have just-"

"-Don't blame me," Victoria interrupted him, her voice firm. "I wasn't the one who told him. It was my brother and Mallory."

"You still confirmed it," Homelander said.

Victoria exhaled a sharp breath. "I am not having this conversation with you again," she warned him, holding a hand up to keep him quiet. "We have the same argument all of the time and it's getting tiresome."

"Know what else is getting tiresome?"

"Your desire to rule the world?" Victoria guessed sarcastically and Homelander chuckled then, lips staying turned upwards.

"Funny," he drawled, "but no, sweetheart. It's your reluctance to admit that you're going to come home eventually. We both know you are and we both know that it's going to be sooner rather than later."

"Know what else is funny?" Victoria questioned, uncurling herself from the sofa and standing up. She picked her empty mug up and carried it into the kitchen. Homelander followed her, keeping a few paces behind her as she tidied up in the kitchen. "You underestimate me, John. You know I'm stubborn."

"Only when it comes to certain things," he said. "When it comes to us, you always crumble."

"And is that what you want?" Victoria wondered, closing the dishwasher and grabbing a cloth to wipe down the surface. "You want me to crumble? You think that decorating the apartment like I always wanted is going to make that happen? You bought the sofa I always wanted so I'm going to come crawling back?"

"So you did notice."

"Hard not to," Victoria said and he moved towards her stealthily as she tossed the cloth onto the draining board of the sink. She watched as he moved towards her slowly and she took steps back until her thighs hit the worktop behind her. "It's not enough, John, and you know that."

"But it's proof," Homelander said to her and she moved a hand up to keep distance between them as he reached around her, planting both hands either side of her on the worktop. "I can give you everything. Just come home, Victoria. Come back to me."

"How many times do I need to tell you that's not happening?" she demanded from him. "You seem to think that I will but on what basis? Because I came back before? But that was because you threatened every one I loved…but we're past that now, aren't we, John? We're past those threats…going round in circles…it's not happening and I'm not coming back."

Homelander looked at her expectantly then, lowering his face closer to hers, his hot breath tickling her skin. "You think I'd let you move on?" he demanded from her. "You think I'd ever let anyone else get close to you? That second-rate boyband idiot doesn't even want you anymore…but I'll make sure that no one else would ever want you."

"You think that I'm even thinking about dating?" Victoria demanded from him. "That's the last thing on my mind."

"Glad to hear it," Homelander said, "but if you even did think of it then I'd never allow it."

"Allow it? Like you'd have a say?"

"You're mine, Victoria," Homelander growled lowly. "You understand that? You're mine and we both know it. There's no one else but me…so keep playing this independent game of yours…I can wait. I can be patient. It might be two weeks…two months…hell, even two years, but I will win and you will come home. We belong together and deep down you know that. You can't deny it."

"I might've thought that at one stage, but we fucked it up," Victoria said to him. "Now, get out of my way. I need to go and wake Evelyn up and we need to go home."

"She's sleeping and this is her home," Homelander said, refusing to budge from keeping her caged against the worktops. "I'm her dad, Victoria. I'm more than capable of looking after her for the night. Besides, don't you have more magazine shoots to do? You know…wearing expensive pantsuits and being a girlboss?"

Victoria rolled her eyes at him. "You're sounding bitter."

"Bitter? You know that I was Time person of the year, right?"

"Wow, are we really doing a 'my dick is bigger than your dick' thing here?" Victoria asked, tone low and sarcastic and he shook his head before leaning in closer to her, whispering hotly in her ear and moving a hand from the worktop to her thigh, brushing along the inside of it and rucking her skirt upwards.

"I know you think you can do this…but you can't…you can't because you hate the limelight. I know how scared you must've been before that interview. You think I don't remember all of those times I had to calm you down in the dressing rooms? Hold your hand throughout the talk shows? Protect you from invasive questions? You need me, Victoria, and you have me. Just come back…come back to what you know best…back home…back to me."

She reached for his wrist and took hold of it before he could go any further. Tugging it from under her skirt, she watched as he pulled back and leaned in closer to her. Her eyes closed before his lips pressed against hers and he cradled her face in his hands, kissing her sweetly for a few seconds before she pulled back.

"I'm not coming home," she whispered against his lips.

"Yes, you are," he said and he leaned back in to kiss her more forcefully this time and Victoria pulled away as his hands reached for her hips, holding them firmly.

"No, I'm not," she said.

"You are," he retorted and he watched her slip by his arm, but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her from going anywhere.

Looking to her husband, Victoria knew that it would be easy enough to give in, but she couldn't let that happen. She had to be strong no matter how much it hurt her. He tugged her back to him and his hands gripped her waist and he picked her up, setting her down on the worktop and standing in between her spread legs. Victoria's hands found his shoulders and she wasn't sure what she was doing as she leaned her head forwards, her forehead pressing to his. Homelander ran his hand up her back, tugging her jumper upwards and feeling the warmth of her skin under his fingertips.

"This doesn't mean I'm coming back," she warned him.

"Okay, sweetheart," he humoured her, forcing her to lift her arms up until he had her jumper off, throwing it onto the floor and leaving her in a dark lacy black bra, chest heaving.

"I'm serious, John," Victoria said.

His hand reached for her tights and he lifted her up from the worktop and shimmied them down her legs until he had them on the floor on top of her jumper too. He moved his fingers between her thighs and kissed along the swell of her breasts as her fingers laced into his hair and she tossed her head back, closing her eyes. It was then when her brother's words came back to her.

"Go back to being his cheap, little whore."

She thought of Alex. She remembered the pain on his face as she told him what she'd done. But he'd gone. He was gone and she wasn't getting him back. Annie had left her too. Victoria had Daniella back, but after that, she had no one and at times she preferred that. She didn't want anyone. She just wanted her husband.

"Stop," Victoria said, voice stern as he mouthed over the lace of her bra cup and she heard him fumble with his belt buckle. "John. Stop." She was sterner this time and he moved his mouth from her and his hand stilled on his belt. Looking to her husband, Victoria shook her head, eyes watering and she shook her head.

"I can't do this," she said to him. "I can't…not again…"

She slipped from the worktop and he let her, watching her reach for her clothes on the floor.

"Vic," he whispered her name.

"No," she said sternly to him. "What? We sleep together and then what? What would it achieve?"

"Getting rid of the boner in my pants for one," Homelander grunted.

"It would be momentary gratification…forgetting about everything…but then it'd be over and nothing would change and we end up going round in circles," Victoria said. "I can't sleep with you, John."

"Your body is saying something entirely different," he said to her.

"Maybe so, but that's not the point," Victoria said. "I might not want any other man. I might never love anyone again like I love you, but that doesn't make this right."

He watched her take her clothes and scurry off before raking his hands through his hair and tossing his head back, knowing that she was going to be stubborn for quite some time. He just had to work out how to get her back without scaring her off.

…

Victoria had never really wanted to sleep with anyone before her husband. She'd had one-night stands while she'd been at college, but none of them had ever meant anything. She'd usually find herself disassociating from what was going on, unable to live in the moment. But then Homelander had come along. He'd put her first. He'd made her feel comfortable and it had been more intense than she'd ever imagined it could be. Since then, she doubted anything would compare. And there was something about being with him that made her feel alive. It made her feel wanted. It made her feel like it was something they shared and it was only for them. She wanted to sleep with him. That was the worst part. She wanted him and not only for pleasure, but because when she was with him she remembered what they had and she would always long for that.

"Where have you been?"

Daniella's voice entered the hotel room and Victoria looked to her. She had a glass of scotch in front of her, still feeling her body tingling and remembering how it had felt to have his mouth on her skin. She'd put Evie to bed and it had gone nine p.m. when Daniella came barrelling in.

"I told John that he could spend time with Evie," Victoria said. "Almost slept with him too, so I'm fucked."

Daniella's eyes widened. "You almost slept with him?"

"Don't ask me to explain it because I can't," Victoria retorted. "Can we actually make that an agreement? What goes on between me and John in private stays in private? I just…I'm tired of trying to rationalise everything to myself never mind to anyone else."

Daniella sensed that Victoria was in a foul mood. She wanted to snap back at her and tell her that if it derailed what they were going to do then actually she would have to explain. But she suspected that was a conversation for another day. Besides, she was going to be in an even worse mood when she heard the news that had just come in.

"We'll shelve that discussion because we have another issue," Daniella said.

"What?" Victoria grunted.

Daniella gulped for a moment and Victoria glanced to her friend, drinking in the worried expression on her face. Leaning forwards, Victoria felt her heart begin to race.

"What?" she repeated.

Daniella steeled herself and shook her head once.

"They have Alex."

…

Homelander knew that he shouldn't feel as excited as he did. He could only imagine that the news had gotten back to his wife. If he'd have checked his phone while they'd been together then she'd have found out and a part of him wanted her to know. But she would have to wait. Homelander's smile remained on his face as he walked through the corridors, hands clasped behind his back. He let the guard in front of him take the lead, unlocking the multiple doors in the facility as they delved towards the maximum-security wing. He'd been kept in isolation the entire time, not allowed to be with anyone else. He was one of the most wanted men in America. It only made sense that he was alone.

Of course, that alone meant limited light and a room with a bed and a sink and toilet. That was it, however. Homelander had demanded for him to be brought to a meeting room. He didn't even want him cuffed. What would be the point? Homelander stepped into the meeting room once the guard had unlocked the door and it buzzed loudly.

He was sat on the floor in the corner, one leg bent and one leg stretched out in front of him. He wore the standard grey prison uniform with white sneakers. His face looked slightly gaunt and his eyes were hooded, no doubt due to lack of sleep. He didn't even look up as Homelander entered the room.

"You can go," Homelander said to the guard who didn't even bother to complain.

Homelander looked to the window with the bars on it, seeing that the rain had started lashing down. Homelander paced the room, hands moving to his hips and an amused expression on his face.

"Trying to get to England…not sure that was your best move, buddy," Homelander said to him.

He remained silent on the floor. Homelander glanced down to him and saw that he was looking down onto the floor. Homelander's jaw clenched and he felt a flare of anger shoot up him at being ignored. But he could bide his time. He'd get the reaction he wanted.

"What was it? You wanted to go back to the place you were hiding with her? I mean, you need to know that she would never have met you there…I take it you know about us?"

There was still silence.

"Of course you do. She told me," Homelander said. "She told me that she'd told you how we'd slept together…how she was always going to be in love with me. I can't imagine how much that hurt. Truly, it must have destroyed you inside. And then tonight she almost slept with me again. I had her spread out on the worktop…longing for me…not that you'd have any idea what that looks or feels like."

He picked his gaze up then and their eyes met. "Almost," he said, speaking the word with his dry mouth and a croaky voice. He hadn't spoken in days.

"What?"

"You said almost," he replied.

Homelander's face flashed with annoyance then, frown lines forming on his face.

"You know what she's like," Homelander said with a shrug of his shoulders. "She'll come crawling back eventually. Either way, you don't stand a chance. I mean, you definitely don't now. Look at you…stuck here…in a cell."

"Is that why you came?" he questioned. "You came to gloat?"

"Supersonic," Homelander chuckled his name. "Why would I need to gloat?"

"Because you have her," Alex said. "You'll always have her."

"True," Homelander said, "but I'm not here to gloat. No. I figured we should talk…man to man. I think that's the least you can do considering you had an affair with my wife."

Alex forced himself to his feet. If Homelander was going to kill him then he wasn't going to be killed without having some dignity. He moved to sit down in a chair at the steel table, leaning back and folding his arms over his chest. Homelander had to admit that he was amused. He could almost smell the anger on Alex. He sat down in the chair across from him, mimicking his pose.

"You want to talk?" Alex demanded from him. "Then talk."

Homelander chuckled darkly and bared his teeth. "Let's light this candle, huh?"

…

A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting a new chapter out - work has been busy and I am also buying my first house so I'm hectic with moving etc. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and more to come - Homelander v Alex and lots more ideas for Homelander v Victoria!