Homelander finished pouring Vicotria a small glass of brandy once he had gotten her back up to the penthouse. She was sniffing loudly, her cheeks tinged red and her eyes bloodshot. Perched on the sofa, she was bent over, hands between her legs and head dangling down. She had struggled to say anything to him, words seemingly not coming to her. Her throat had clenched and her chest tightened. She felt sick. She felt so much guilt because she was supposed to be with Michelle that night. They should have gone to the hotel. They should have been with her. But they hadn't gone. They had left her alone and she had died alone. It was that thought that made Victoria hyperventilate even more. The idea of Michelle not having anyone with her made her feel guilty.
"Drink this," Homelander urged from her and she lifted her head up, hair tossed behind her shoulders. She shook her head, face completely blotchy. He sat down next to her, still holding the glass towards her.
"I can't," she just said.
"One shot isn't going to impact your medication, Vic," he promised her in a soft voice. "It might settle you."
She suspected he might have a point there and so she took the glass from him and downed it, holding it in her hands and turning it around slowly. Nodding approvingly, Homelander moved a hand to the small of her back, feeling her tense up under his touch for a moment before he ran his hand up and down her back, crumpling the dress she wore with the movements.
"You know…if you want to talk about it…" he left the offer hanging there for her, but she shook her head. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't know if she could talk about it. Homelander just watched her as she bowed her head again and started crying.
He was convinced she would tire herself out and she soon did. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore, her eyes dry and her head pounding. He watched her stand up and head into the kitchen, getting a glass of water and some aspirin. He didn't mention that she shouldn't really be taking that, knowing that it would probably fall on deaf ears. She stayed where she was as he stood in the doorway, leaning against it. Placing the glass into the sink, she grabbed hold of the worktop either side of it, looking onto the marble that was cold underneath her fingertips.
"You know what she told me?" Victoria said. She knew that he had no idea. He just shook his head. She couldn't even see him, but she kept on talking. "She told me that she felt as though she…she felt alone…because she'd never found anyone. She wanted someone so badly and there were times when I should have been there for her, but I wasn't. I bailed on her because I had something planned with you…or I had to work late in the library."
"That's not your fault, Vicky," Homelander said to her with a shake of his head before he moved further into the kitchen, footsteps light and gentle as he came around the corner of the u-shaped worktops. "You weren't to know that any of this could have happened to her. You were a good friend."
"Was I?" Victoria asked. "Because she said that she wanted what I had. How fucked up is that? Why would she want to be anything like me? She deserved someone to love her…and I never told her the truth. I let her think that everything was perfect and I lied to her. I lied to her and then tonight she…I spent it arguing with Daniella when we should have just gone to the hotel to find her."
"Sweetheart, you weren't to know," Homelander said to her and he saw the anger then.
He'd expected to see it soon enough. He knew grief well. He knew that after crying there came anger and then more crying. And he just had to let her get it all out. He had to give her space because crowding her now wouldn't do her any good. And so he let her pick the glass out of the sink and throw it down, the glass shattering in it, the sound of the smash echoing through the room as she wiped off the bowls and cutlery from the worktop side, letting them smash against the floor.
"I left her! I wasn't there! I lied to her…she…and now she's gone…she's fucking gone and she was all alone…she was by herself and now…now I can never tell her the truth…tell her how much I loved her and how I should have spent more time with her. She's gone…she's gone," Victoria sobbed and he watched her bend over, hands against her chest as she crouched down and he moved to her then, not wanting her to sit in the broken shards on the ground.
"Victoria, come on," Homelander urged from her, but she tried to push him from her. She pushed at his chest and tried to get him away from her, but he was refusing to move. He stood completely stoic, not backing down until she finally gave up, cheek pressed to his chest as his arms stayed around her and he let her cry.
Moving a hand down her hair soothingly, he stayed with her, not wanting to go anywhere until he was certain she might calm down. He didn't know how long it would take, but he knew that he wasn't going anywhere.
…
"When do you fly to Chicago?"
Victoria was sat with Annie four day's later in the penthouse. Annie had come up when Homelander had gone out, claiming that he needed to go and so some work for a few hours. Victoria had let him go. He had been constantly hovering around her for the past few days, never being too far away from her considering he was nervous about how she would be. She would go between seeing Evelyn and coming back to the penthouse, but that was it. She had tried to call Daniella, but her friend wasn't picking up. She just text her to say she needed space.
"Monday," Victoria said to Annie.
"And you're sure you don't want me to come with you?"
Annie was sat on the end of the bed, Victoria against the headboard with her legs crossed and her hands laced together in her lap. There were two empty tissue boxes on her bedside table alongside three empty mugs and a half-eaten bowl of muesli. She was dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants, a large white top over it that Annie was certain was one of Homelander's.
"John's coming with me," Victoria said to Annie.
"And do you want him there?"
Victoria shrugged. "None of it's going to help," she said to Annie. "And I guess it would look strange if I go to my best friend's funeral without my fiancé. It's not as if my other best friend is talking to me…she…she couldn't even tell me herself what had happened. She got Ashley to do it."
"It's grief, Vicky," Annie said to her and Victoria shrugged. She didn't know if it was. She didn't know if Daniella even cared anymore. She had thought that grief was supposed to push people together, but it had done the complete opposite. She had never felt so distanced from her.
"You think?"
"It's different for everyone. Just because you two argued doesn't mean that she didn't tell you because she…because of that," Annie promised her. "I'd imagine she didn't tell you because she didn't know how to. She probably feels just as bad as you do that she wasn't there."
"I guess so," Victoria responded to Annie. She supposed she should just stop trying to think the worst. "I just…I just miss her so much and I never knew that it would hurt like this."
"She was like a sister to you, it's bound to be painful," Annie said and she drew her legs up onto the bed, grabbing hold of the blanket at the bottom of it and draping it over her lap as she felt a sudden chill in the air. "And at the moment everything is raw. Everything you're feeling is just raw and painful…in time, you'll be able to talk about it. You'll be able to talk about her and remember all of the good times that you had with her because there were so many of them."
"You're pretty good at this, you know?" Victoria said to her and Annie's lips arched.
She tugged on the material at the bottom of her jeans tucked into her green shirt. "I know it's not the same, but when I was younger…when my dad walked out…it felt like grief."
"You know he was an idiot to ever abandon you?" Victoria said to her.
"I'd like to think so, but I don't want to talk about him. I'm here to talk about you."
Victoria shook her head slowly. "You don't need to talk about me. It's not about me. I'm still here…and I…I'll be fine…eventually."
"You don't need to bottle it up. If you want to talk about her then you can. If you want to talk about how you feel then you can. I'll be here."
"I know," Victoria said. "And you can't go anywhere, okay? Because I really do need you."
"I'm not going anywhere," Annie promised her, moving to her and embracing her tightly, wondering when the last time she had washed her hair had been considering it felt pretty greasy. She didn't comment on it, knowing that Victoria would be fine eventually. She was stronger than she knew. Holding onto her tightly, Annie barely heard Homelander enter the room.
"Not interrupting, am I?" Homelander asked and Annie pulled back, Victoria looking over her shoulder and seeing him stood there, Evelyn in his arms. Her eyes widened as she looked to her daughter and Annie stood up, hands on her hips.
"What are you doing with her up here?" Victoria asked from him.
"The nurse said that she was fine to come with me for a while," Homelander said. "And I thought that you might want to see her."
"Always," Victoria said and he moved into the room, Annie giving him a wide berth as he completely ignored her presence. He was hardly her number one fan and vice versa. He sat down by the edge of the bed as Victoria held her arms out and he handed her their daughter. "Hey, baby," she cooed down to her.
She seemed to be completely settled, not crying or squirming at all. She was still wearing her white onesie and a small hat, a blanket wrapped just tight enough around her. Homelander rested an arm behind Victoria's back as she sat up straight, leaning in closer to her and peering down at Evelyn. Annie watched him, unable not to notice the way his front was almost brushing Victoria's side. It was like he thought they were some perfect family.
"I should get going," Annie said and Victoria looked to her as Homelander brushed a hand down his daughter's face.
"You sure?"
"Yeah, I've got to go and meet with Edgar about something. I'll come back and see you tomorrow."
"I can come and see you?" Victoria suggested. "Maybe we can go for a walk?"
Annie smiled widely, nodding her head quickly. "Sounds like a plan," she said, just glad that Victoria was going to get out. "See you tomorrow."
"Night, Annie," Victoria said.
Annie glanced over her shoulder as she came to the door, about to close it. She watched as Homelander picked his hand up from Evelyn's cheek and moved it to Victoria's hair, brushing it over her shoulder and letting it linger by her neck. Victoria glanced to him and he pecked her forehead with a soft brush of his lips before she looked down to their daughter in her arms.
Homelander knew Annie was watching. He wanted her to see. He wanted her to see that him and Victoria were fine and that he was never going to let her go. He wanted her to understand that Victoria, while she might despise him, wasn't pushing him away from her. She might be passive, but she was there. She was still with him.
"How long do you think it will be until she's here all the time?" Victoria wondered from Homelander.
He shrugged. "Hard to say," he confessed. "I think the medical team are taking things very slowly with her, as they should do. They need to make sure she is safe."
"She's growing though."
"She is," Homelander agreed. "And she is strong already."
"Really?"
"She has a squeeze on her," Homelander said. "But you know that she can't come with us to Chicago, right? She's too young to fly."
"But we'll only be gone for two nights, won't we? And they'll have my number so if anything is wrong we can just fly back home. Maybe we should try and go just for one night? I don't know if we both should be away from her-"
"-Victoria, darling, she'll be fine," Homelander promised. "I can get us back here in under ten minutes and I've ensured that security has been stepped up for her. Nothing is going to happen to her."
Victoria nodded, knowing that she was overreacting. She just couldn't stop herself. She looked down to Evelyn, her daughter's wide blue eyes looking back at her intently. It was a few moments before she relaxed slightly, happy that Evelyn was content in her new surroundings. Victoria glanced around, knowing that she had to tidy up eventually. She couldn't keep going like this. She had to try and function somehow, no matter how hard she found it.
…
"Where are you?"
"I'm in Chicago for the funeral."
"Are you alright?"
"If I say yes, will you believe me?" Victoria questioned from her brother.
She had gone out for an early morning walk, leaving Homelander alone in the hotel after she had insisted she would be fine. She'd tugged on a simple black jumpsuit and had found a small park when her phone had started to ring and it was her brother. She picked up as she grabbed a cup of coffee from a small stall in the park, carrying it over to the bench and sitting down, one leg folding over the other.
"Not in the slightest," Billy told her and she smiled despite everything. Maybe he did know her better than she thought he did. "Your best friend just died and it's her funeral. You're entitled to be anything but fine isn't one those fucking things."
"You know, I'm not sure if you're any good at this," she confessed to him and he chuckled down the line.
"Pep talks have never been my thing, but I'm pretty good at cutting through bullshit," he responded and she wasn't going to deny that. "I saw that the cunt was there with you."
Victoria sighed loudly. "It would have looked weird if he wasn't."
"Did you want him there?"
"I don't know," Victoria admitted to her brother. "I mean, I'm almost immune to him being here now."
"You got fucking Stockholm Syndrome or something?" Billy wondered from her. "You know, every time I see you out with him on the news…it makes me feel sick…the way he has his hands on you-"
"-Don't think like that," Victoria interrupted her brother. "I know what he is and who he is. I also know that he's currently subdued. He hasn't been in trouble in a long time…well…except for one incident but I'm actually okay with him on that."
"What did he do?"
"There were a group of people who hated supes," Victoria said to him and she watched a family of four rush across the park, clearly on their way to school, the kids' backpacks swinging on their shoulders and their parents smiling to each other. "They intended on kidnapping Evelyn and killing her…publicising it to show that supes weren't safe."
"You can't be serious?"
"Deadly," Victoria said and she sipped on her coffee, almost burning her tongue. She gulped it down quickly. "But Jo…Homelander, he got to them before the police could. He killed them. Edgar found out and he wasn't happy, not that I give a shit what he thinks. I try to stay away from him because he's a fucking prick."
"Not going to argue with you on that one," Billy said to his sister. "I can't believe there's people out there like that."
"You hate supes," Victoria pointed out.
"I'd never kill a baby, Vic, don't even-"
"-No, I know you wouldn't, but I'm just saying that there are people out there who are more deranged than you are," she said.
"Hard thing to achieve," he said and he heard her chuckle, glad that he could get that out of her at least. "Besides, that's my niece, isn't it? I can hardly think anything bad of her, no matter who her father is. It's like Ryan…I'd do anything for that kid…and I haven't met her yet, but I'd do anything for your kid too."
Victoria almost felt herself well up. She blinked quickly and took another sip of coffee. "And who said you couldn't be sweet?"
"Don't get used to it. I'm not a snivelling loser."
"You are, but your secrets safe with me," Victoria promised him. "You'll come and see her though, won't you? I know Homelander isn't keen on it, but I can get around him."
"You think?"
"I know," she responded. "She's your niece, Billy."
"Yeah…let's just not push him. You might be confident he won't hurt you, but I don't have that in him. The guys a raging unstable lunatic."
"And still my fiancé," Victoria concluded. "Listen, Billy. I need to go and change. We need to go in a couple of hours."
"Alright, but if you need me, call me."
"Will do. Love you."
"Love you too," he said and they hung up.
Victoria pushed her phone into the pocket of her jumpsuit. Standing up, she finished her coffee on the way back to the hotel. She tossed her empty cup in the bin outside before walking under the awning into the lobby, heading across the marble floor and towards the elevator. Hitting the button, she waited for it to come patiently, letting people out before she stepped in and pressed for the ninth floor. She went back to their room, placing the key card against the lock and hearing it snick. Stepping into the large suite, Victoria saw that Homelander was stood up and looking in the floor length mirror that was on the door to the wardrobe.
The room was grand with a sofa oppose a flat screen TV on an expensive mahogany unit. The bathroom had a sunken bath and the bed was king-size. It was the softest mattress Victoria had slept on. They'd had to book the suite, not able to take separate rooms in case news got out they weren't sharing a room. The last thing Victoria wanted was people questioning them and her having to go and do more interviews to explain that things were fine.
Closing the door behind her, it took a moment before Victoria realised what was so different. Looking to the back of Homelander, she didn't see his usual cape of stars and stripes. He was dressed in a black suit instead. Victoria's brows furrowed as she walked further into the room. Homelander turned his head over his shoulder for a brief moment.
"You're back," he observed.
"What are you doing?" she wondered.
He went back to looking down, chuckling darkly. "Trying to tie this stupid thing but I can't seem to do it," he complained and she realised he was attempting to knot his tie.
"You're wearing a suit."
"Yeah," he said with a nod of his head.
"You never wear a suit," she commented.
The black suit was clearly expensive and designer, a crisp white shirt underneath the jacket, the collar turned up. He even had black brogues that gleamed. He looked so different, almost unthreatening. Victoria watched as his bare hands fiddled with the black tie.
"I figured that maybe this would be better for today? You…I didn't think you'd want me standing out…"
"You're wearing this for me?"
"Well, I'm not wearing it for me because I have no fucking idea how this thing works."
"Come here," Victoria said and she lifted her hands towards it, fingers wrapping around his wrists and lowering his hands from it. He let her, leaving his hands limp by his side before she took hold of the tie. "I used to have a boss at the UN who never got the knot the right size…it was always too small. He'd ask me to fix it for him. The first time was a fluke…no idea how I'd done it…but then I watched YouTube videos and figured out how to do the perfect tie."
He watched as she moved confidently against the material, it moving in and out of her fingers confidently until finally he had a tie. She reached for his collar, fingers tickling his neck as she turned it back down and then stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "You look so strange," she whispered.
"I mean, don't get used to it," he said to her and she nodded once.
"Try not to," she said and then stepped away as he went back to looking in the mirror, clearly uncomfortable in something other than his suit. "I'm going to go and change."
"The car is coming in forty minutes."
"I'll be ready," she said and grabbed her weekend bag from the sofa, carrying it into the bathroom. She unpacked everything she needed, checking her phone and seeing a photo of Annie with Evelyn come through, her best friend leant over her daughter's bed as she slept. Smiling softly, Victoria was content that Evelyn was fine and began to get ready.
She showered quickly, changing into a long sleeved plain black midi dress and shimmying into her pair of tights. Once they were over her hips, she pulled at her hair, brushing it until all the knots fell out and she sat at the vanity and applied a soft layer of foundation and some blusher, forgoing mascara because she knew it wasn't waterproof, no matter what the bottle said. After a dab of perfume and slipping into her patent black heels, she looked at the mirror above the his and hers sink. Staring at her reflection, she told herself that she would be fine. She could do this. She was going to be able to get through it.
Taking a few deep breaths, she left the bathroom and found Homelander fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, standing by the window and glancing out over the Chicago city skyline. He turned as soon as he heard the door close behind her.
"You look lovely," he commented.
"Not sure I'm supposed to look lovely going to a funeral," she responded.
"Then you look funeral appropriate," he replied with and she nodded, lips quirking for a moment and making his heart race. She finished putting her phone and purse into her small clutch and picked it up. Arching a brow and cocking his head, he watched her. "You ready?" he checked.
"No, but we need to go," she said.
"I'll be with you the whole time," he promised and gave her a tight-lipped smile.
Placing his key card into his suit jacket pocket, he followed her out of the suite, walking by her side, hand hovering by her back as they took the elevator down. No one seemed to recognise them as they came to the lobby. For the first time since she'd started dating him, Victoria almost felt as though they were incognito. Heading over towards the car that was parked outside, Homelander let Victoria into it first, sliding in next to her and tugging on his tie once he was settled, unsure how people got used to wearing those things. The drive to the church was silent, Homelander noticing that Victoria was texting Annie as he saw a picture of Starlight and his daughter flash up on screen. His jaw tensed at that, gaze narrowing out of the window. Gulping down the anger he felt, he let it dissolve in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't get angry today.
The drive out to the suburbs of Chicago was slow, traffic coming to a halt as they tried to leave the city. Once they were away from skyrise buildings and into streets where leafy trees lined large, white wooden houses, they moved quicker. Homelander looked at them, almost feeling a sense of loss at what he could have had. This was what he'd been raised to think was normal, but Vought had never given it. Bikes were abandoned in some driveways. There were some swings and slides in yards. He wondered if Evelyn would prefer this life compared to living in the middle of a stifling city.
"We're here," Victoria said, snapping him out of his daze.
Nodding his head, he got out of the car and she slid out after him. He offered her his hand and she took it, letting him lace his fingers into hers. They headed on towards the cemetery, Victoria's heels clicking against the stone walkway among the headstones. Homelander looked around, hand flattening down his tie. He read the words on the graves as they moved, coming towards a crowd that was gathered on the grass, rows of chairs all set out in front of the grave. Homelander felt Victoria tense as she spotted the coffin and he glanced down to her, squeezing her hand, thumb running over her knuckles.
"You're alright," he said, not asking her if she was but telling her that she would be. He knew that she would be.
She nodded as she spotted Michelle's parents stood by the end of the row of people, dressed in all black. Victoria had met them numerous times before when they had visited New York, often going out with them for dinner when they insisted on paying and treating the girls. They were kindly, completely homely. They were everything Victoria had wanted her parents to be.
"Mr and Mrs Monroe," Victoria said, letting go of Homelander's hand and embracing Michelle's mother. The woman had puffy cheeks that had reddened, a string of pearls around her neck and her hair a blonde perm. Michelle definitely took after her, with her wide eyes and thin lips. Mr Monroe, on the other hand, was tall and lanky, Homelander thinking that he looked something like a Professor with unkept hair and stubble on his long chin.
"Victoria, darling," Mrs Monroe spoke. "You made it."
"Of course," Victoria said, pulling back and running a hand down the woman's arm before pecking the man on the cheek, looking between both of them. "I'm so sorry….I didn't…I should've been there…"
"No, we should never have let her go to New York by herself," the man said, hand squeezing Victoria's shoulder. "Don't blame yourself for this. She…she loved you very much."
"Not as much as she loved you both," Victoria said and Mrs Monroe embraced her once again.
"Thank you, sweetie," she said and then sniffed, pulling back. "And this must be your fiancé."
"Yeah…Jo…Homelander," Victoria corrected herself as she stepped back and watched him hold his hand out.
"I am truly so sorry for your loss," he said, putting on a sincere voice and letting his eyes widen to soften his gaze. "Michelle was a great young woman. You should be so proud of her."
He shook Michelle's mother hand first before moving onto her father. "Thank you," he said to him.
"We should take a seat," Victoria said and gave them both another hug before walking along the second row of chair to the end seat. She sat down, Homelander next to her as people began filling up the spaces. Victoria hardly recognised them. There were some people who had made the journey from college. There were some of her old high-school friends. Distant family made up the majority of them.
"I think Daniella just walked in," Homelander said, spotting Victoria's other friend talking to Michelle's parents, a woman behind her who he assumed was Georgina, her girlfriend. She was small and skinny, an oversized dress filling her frame and brown curls dancing around her chin. Daniella was in a black pantsuit, hair straightened and face pale.
"Yeah, that's Georgina with her," Victoria said, letting Daniella take her time with Michelle's parents. She spotted her move into the row on the other side of the aisle and their gazes met. Victoria waved once but Daniella kept her hand down, just nodding and then turning away. Homelander heard Victoria gulp and shift in her seat, looking away from her friend and straight to the front.
"It's alright," he promised her.
"She couldn't even look at me," Victoria whispered.
"It's grief."
"I'm getting tired of that excuse," Victoria confessed. Her calls had gone unanswered. Her texts hardly responded to. She felt as though she'd almost lost two friends.
Folding one leg over the other, she didn't even complain as Homelander rested a hand on her knee and the ceremony began. Victoria watched as Michelle's father spoke about how she was the best daughter he could have hoped for, Homelander observing and hearing the love for his daughter shine through. And he understood it. He thought about his own baby and son, realising that he would do anything for them. He loved them more than possible and, for the first time in a long time, he didn't even think that the man at the podium, being human, was so different to him.
When the time came for the coffin to be lowered, everyone stood, filing past and grabbing a handful of dirt to drop on it. Victoria waited her turn, Homelander walking by her side with a hand on her back. She picked up the handful of dirt and dropped it down, thinking about her friend, remembering all of the nights they had drunk too much and sat in her room, laughing and gossiping.
"Love you, Michelle," Victoria whispered and let go of the dirt, hearing it clonk on the wood beneath and feeling her eyes well up, the tears finally spilling over. "I'll never forget you."
…
Homelander knew that he was the centre of attention. Even without wearing his suit, he knew it. People were looking at him as he stood by the table with the buffet laid out on it. They had gone back to Michelle's parent's home for the wake, Victoria saying that they would only stay for a drink and then go. She was stood talking to one of Michelle's aunts who she had met in New York when she had come over for the weekend on some work conference. Homelander had left her to it, telling her that he would go and scour the buffet table considering she hadn't ate anything that morning and all she'd had was coffee.
He filled a plate with potato salad and carried it back over to Victoria as she said goodbye to the kindly aunt. She turned to him and he handed her a fork. "You need to eat something and I've seen you devour the potato salad in the Vought canteen," he said and she took the cutlery from him before prodding into the salad, him still holding the plate. He watched her take a mouthful and nodded his head as she took the plate from him and looked around.
The house was modest, with a large sitting room that backed onto a dining room they were currently stood in. The patio doors opened up onto a green lawn and the kitchen was to the right of them. The furniture was homely, soft beiges and warm browns with throws and pillows dotted around along with photos on the walls. Victoria's eyes dragged to one of the three of them on graduation that was stood on the sideboard underneath the window.
"I need to find Daniella and at least talk to her," Victoria suddenly said.
"You sure?"
"We can't go on like this," Victoria replied, taking another mouthful of the potato salad.
"Well, I think I heard her in the kitchen. Georgina's stepped outside to take a work call."
"If I promise to eat the rest of this when I come back, do you think you can handle me leaving for a minute?"
He scoffed as she set the plate down on the dining table. "I think I can manage not to embarrass you for two minutes," he promised her. "Just go and get it over with," he urged her and she nodded, taking off before he whispered under his breath, "and then we can get the fuck out of here."
Victoria trudged through into the kitchen and found Daniella stood at the sink, washing up dishes and glasses. She moved towards her, turning around so that her back was against the worktop and Daniella glanced at the sudden figure. When she recognised who it was, she looked back into the soapy water.
"Can we talk?" Victoria asked from her.
"I'm not sure what there is to talk about," Daniella said.
"Then I'll talk and you listen. Outside, now," Victoria said and Daniella wondered if she had ever heard her speak in such a bossy tone before. It was new to her, she wasn't going to deny that. Victoria took off out the back door, Daniella wiping her hands before following her. By the time she was outside, Victoria had turned around, arms crossed firmly over her body. She shrugged, her eyes narrowed at her friend.
"What's your problem with me?" she demanded.
"And here we go."
"Here we go?" Victoria questioned.
"You have to make everything about yourself, don't you?" Daniella said to her. "Today is supposed to be about Michelle. It is supposed to be about her life…remembering her…and you brought him along and it's all anyone can talk about. You're the centre of attention. America's fucking golden couple."
Victoria frowned then, feeling a warmth pool in her belly that she recognised as rage. "You think that's what I want? You think I wanted to do that? I came here because Michelle was my best friend. I loved her just as much as you did."
"Then why did you bring him? You knew that it would detract from her."
"So you wanted me to come alone?"
"I'd have sat with you…but bringing him when Michelle and I both knew who he was and what he was…and knowing that you're with him and clearly not happy…it's just so fucking fake and if Michelle was here now she'd know it. She'd know it and she would be so disappointed in you."
"That's not fair," Victoria said with a firm shake of her head. She didn't need to be treated like this. She didn't need it on today of all days.
"He was caught with his tongue down a Nazi's throat and spouting her ideology and you brought him here…Michelle…everything she stood for-"
"-He didn't believe what he said!" Victoria interjected.
"Well, that makes it ten times worse and the fact you can't see that means you're just blind. Michelle knew that something was up with you. She knew that you were making a mistake, but she didn't want to tell you that. She didn't want to spend her final few months arguing with you because she wanted to keep the peace…but she knew…she knew that you'd changed."
"I don't get why you're making this about me. It's not about me. Today is about Michelle."
"If today was about Michelle then why is he here?" Daniella asked. "You know that she despised him? After everything we've seen him do, she hated him. We both do. But we were too scared to bring it up to you. We thought that you'd see sense. We thought that you'd leave him."
"You have no idea, Daniella. You have no idea what I've done!" Victoria snapped, tears streaming down her face. Everything was boiling to the top. All of the emotions they'd held back for months were coming out and Victoria didn't know how to stop. "You don't know anything."
"We don't know anything because you shut us out," Daniella snapped back. "And Michelle knew it. She knew it and she didn't know how to talk about it with you because she only had months left and she didn't want to fall out with you…but I'm not going to stand here and pretend that things are fine because they're not."
"Obviously not," Victoria said, arms folding firmly over her chest as Daniella shrugged. How did she tell her that she had things she wanted to say? She couldn't, not with Homelander around. So that meant she had to take it. She had to take it and not retaliate with the truth. Yes, Daniella might be happier with the truth, but she wouldn't be safe. "You didn't even phone me, Daniella. You got a Vought employee to do it…and then you wouldn't return my calls. You might hate me for being engaged to John, but I am still your friend. I'm still me."
"The Victoria I knew would never be with a man like that," Daniella said with a shake of her head. "And Michelle…she loved you just like I love you, but that doesn't mean she wouldn't be disappointed in you."
"Do you even know how hurtful you're being right now?" Victoria questioned her.
"I don't mean to be, but I can't stand here and pretend to be good with you. We're not being fake…and especially not at Michelle's funeral. She wouldn't want to see us fighting like this, but I know she didn't want to see you turn into this woman who we don't even recognise because you're keeping things from us."
"Victoria."
Turning to the back door, Victoria saw that Homelander was stood there. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.
"I don't want to interrupt, but people can hear you from inside."
"We're done here," Daniella was the one to answer for her and she began to walk past, but Victoria grabbed her arm before she could go much further.
"Daniella, please," Victoria said.
"I meant what I said before, Vic," Daniella said, her own eyes watering up. "Michelle and I will always be there for you, but you need to be honest with us…me," she corrected herself. "Because I'm not being around you when you're around him."
Daniella walked right by her then and Victoria let her go, turning to look to the back of the yard. She noticed some people stood by the window, watching out. The last thing she had wanted to do was cause a scene. Homelander moved towards her, hands behind his back as he stood behind her, looking over her shoulder. He'd brought her clutch out with him too, not wanting to leave it unattended.
"You alright?" he whispered.
She shook her head. "Can we go?"
"I need to call for the car so yeah in a few minutes…maybe ten…"
"Now, please," she said, wiping her eyes and turning her head over her shoulder to look to him. Nodding his head, he picked her up with no effort, taking off into the sky without looking back.
Landing on the top of the hotel building, they headed down the elevator after he had opened the fire escape door. Getting back to their hotel room, he threw her bag down onto the end of the bed and watched as she pushed her heels from her feet and he watched her climb onto the sofa, sitting with her lugs curled underneath her. She was still crying, the ache in her chest growing and her head pounding.
"Daniella was lashing out. She had no right to say what she said."
"I don't get it," Victoria admitted, sniffing loudly as he went to sit down next to her. "I…I've kept things from them, but I'm still me. I'm still their friend and I…being with you…it's like they've defined who I am."
"She's being unreasonable."
"And to say that Michelle disappointed," Victoria choked up, the anger clear in her voice as she played with a pull in her tights. "And I made the day about me…I never…I would never do that."
"I know, sweetheart," Homelander promised her. "Today was about Michelle and you did nothing to detract from that. Perhaps me coming wasn't the best idea, but I couldn't leave you alone. I couldn't let you do this without me…and listening to Michelle's dad doing his speech…I got it, Vicky. I completely got what he was saying. He would do anything for his wife and daughter. I understood it and that was why I had to be with you today."
"I know," Victoria said to him with a nod of her head, cheeks sticking with tears.
"And you have no reason to apologise to Daniella. What she said was bullshit," he promised her. "And she might be grieving, but you are too. You don't deserve to be spoken to like that."
And Homelander had to confess that he was in two minds as to whether or not he should go and pay Daniella a visit himself. But he had no need to. He said nothing further as Victoria stood up and tugged a hand through her hair. Victoria paced up and down. Everything was getting to her. She had drunk two glasses of wine that had gone to her head. She had no one. She had no one who understood what it felt like to be in her position and she couldn't talk to anyone about it.
Her brother despised Homelander. Daniella despised him. Annie despised him. No one understood that Victoria despised him, but at the same time, when he acted like he did to her, she struggled with it. It was like living with Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. And she felt lonely. She felt so lonely and she felt so empty whenever she wasn't with Evelyn. She just wanted it to stop. She wanted to feel something.
"Vicky," Homelander whispered her name as she continued pacing and he stood up, standing just behind her.
Turning on her heel, she looked to him and for a moment, she forgot everything as she reached a hand up to his neck and stood on her toes, her lips meeting his. She knew it was wrong. Every instinct in her body told her it was wrong. But he was there. He was there and he wanted her. He was the only one who seemed to want to be around her and not judge her. She felt his hands skim onto her waist, pulling her closer to him as he continued kissing her, feeling her hand tug at his tie and loosen it before shrugging him out of his suit jacket.
"Vicky…what're you doing?" he asked her as she tugged his belt loose and went straight for his fly.
"I just…I need you not to ask questions…just do this…"
"I'm not doing this," Homelander said to her with a shake of his head. "This is anger…you're not thinking rationally."
She frowned as he loosened his grip on her hips. "I don't want to think rationally," she snapped at him. "I just want this all to make sense to me…you…you're fucking with my mind. One minute you're an asshole and the next you're wearing a suit…holding my hand…being the perfect fucking boyfriend. Just be consistent."
"This is who I am for you," he retorted.
"But not for anyone else. To everyone else you're a man I don't understand and I can't reconcile the two in my head…but tonight…just for tonight I want to forget. I want to forget the fact that my best friend hates me…that our daughter is still so weak…that the man I have tried to hate more than anything is the one man I love more than anything."
Homelander watched her and he knew precisely how she would feel. She would feel self-loathing. She would feel anger. She could forget for the night, but the day after she'd remember everything. She'd go back to trying to resent him. This was grief and anger talking. But as he watched her stood there, he threw caution to the wind. If this was his only chance then he was taking it.
Striding towards her in two purposeful steps, he kissed her forcefully and gave her what she needed. He listened to her when she told him to fuck her. He bent her over the end of the bed, hand on her hip and other hand tangled in her hair as he listened to her moan, dress pulled up to her waist. He kissed along her body once he'd gotten her out of her clothes, head between her legs and causing her to scream and forget everything but him. He let her take control, watching as she moved on top of him, hands on her hips and guiding her.
And she didn't feel better. Laid under the duvet at two in the morning, naked and still covered in a sheen of sweat, she just felt sick. Homelander was silent next to her, hands behind his head as he turned his gaze to see her face, her eyes wide open and set on the wall across from them. Neither of them knew what was going on. He knew that this didn't mean she'd forgiven him. She knew that just a few hours of pleasure wouldn't be enough to make her forget. At the time it had, but now the emptiness was back. She was fucked. She had no idea what to do and the worst part was that all she wanted was Michelle. But if Michelle knew what she'd done then Daniella was right. She would have been disappointed.
...
A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who is still reading - been quite the journey so far and things are going to get bumpy as we approach season 3. Pretty please let me know what you think!