Victoria had flown back to Paris on the Friday and while on the plane, sent an email to confirm she was taking the contract extension. She'd taken the metro back to her apartment and had slept for the majority of the weekend, only venturing out for food after the jetlag had disappeared. Heading back into work, she knew that people were staring at her as she moved through the open-planned office towards the back where she had her own desk. Hector was already at his desk too, hand going through his hair and eyes fixed on the computer screen in front of him.
Peeling her red coat from her shoulders, Victoria hung it up on their shared coatrack before dropping her bag onto the floor by her chair. "Morning, Hector," she greeted him.
Pulling the chair out, she sunk down into it and folded one leg over the other. She pressed the button on her computer and waited for it to come to life. The office wasn't entirely full just yet, but people were making their way into it slowly, some carrying coffees as they came and looking like they needed it to perk themselves up.
"Victoria," Hector greeted her, eyes flashing down to the engagement ring on her finger. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Victoria said. She frowned. There was something off about his tone. She let her brows furrow at hearing him and tilted her head slightly. "Are you alright?" she asked him back and he nodded quickly, hand moving to the mouse of his computer and eyes flashing back to the screen.
"Yep…good," was all he said back to her.
Peering up and over the screen of her desk, Victoria noted people whispering, occasionally glancing in her direction. Sighing, she wondered if it was because she'd been away for the week with Homelander. She had no idea, but she knew there was something off. Turning back to Hector, she looked to him with an arched brow.
"What is going on?" she asked and he sighed. He stopped clicking on his mouse and his attention moved from his emails and back to the woman next to him. Looking to her, he wondered if she had any idea what had happened. She was looking at him with concern and, from what he knew of her, what he was about to tell her would probably be enough to make her upset.
"You really don't know?" he asked and she shrugged, eyes widening and confusion etched on her face.
"Hector, I have no idea what you're talking about," she told him with a firm shake of her head. "What's going on?"
"It's Homelander," he said to her and he watched the frown lines increase on her forehead. She was clearly not in the know of anything that was going on.
"What about him?" she asked.
He said nothing. Instead, he picked his phone up and tapped on it for a moment or two. Victoria could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her mind going to some pretty dark places. Had something happened to him? No, it couldn't have. If it had then Vought would have called her and she'd had nothing on her way to work from them. He turned the screen towards her and she angled her chair closer, bending over and seeing the video.
It was Homelander alright. She had no idea where he was considering he hadn't told her about his weekend. He just said that he'd been patrolling, but the video looked nothing like New York. She watched as a cloud of dust swirled up in front of him. He raised his hands, pretending to be scared. And then his fists dropped to his hips and the lasers shot out of his eyes. Victoria gasped at the sight of them. She saw them move into the man who had created the dust storm, completely going through him. Was it a super-terrorist? Was that where he had gone? But then she saw the video pan over the man on the ground and it landed on another body on the floor.
It was a boy. He was on the floor, his insides completely ripped out and a woman screaming over him, her body covering his as the camera turned once more to catch Homelander flying off. Moving back to the little boy, Victoria couldn't listen to the woman's wails any longer. She shook her head, cheeks pale and throat clenching as bile rose up inside of her throat.
"Turn it off," she demanded from Hector and he did as she asked rather clumsily, struggling to press the right buttons. Looking to the wood of her desk, Victoria inhaled a sharp breath before pushing her chair back and standing up.
She moved through the office, the heels from her ankle boots stomping as she rushed to the women's toilets. Entering the sleek, white marbled room, she found the cubicle the furthest from the door and closed it. Sitting down on the closed toilet seat, she pulled her phone from the pocket in her skirt and unlocked it. She looked at Homelander's name and considered calling him. Would he even be up yet? He had to be. If she had seen this then he would have. Vought would consider it nothing more than a PR disaster, completely disregarding the fact a human had been killed. Because that was what they were like. They never really cared for the person who got hurt because of them.
It had to have been an accident. She knew that it had to have been an accident. She swiped away from his name, realising that she had no idea what to say to him if she did call him. She wanted him to tell her that it was all a big accident. But he hadn't stayed. He had flown away, almost as though he didn't care. It was almost as though it didn't matter because he thought he wasn't going to get caught. That was the part that upset her the most.
"Vicky?"
Hector's voice came into the bathroom and she sniffed once. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hands, she unlocked the cubicle and saw him stood at the end of them. His eyes looked sad and kind, but it wasn't as if she needed his sympathy. She was still alive and breathing, not like that little boy.
"I'm fine," she assured him.
"You know that you don't need to be fine, right?" he checked with her and she shook her head, moving to the sink and splashing cold water onto her face. Looking into the mirror, she was glad she hadn't bothered with any makeup that morning. "Your fiancé has basically just outed himself as a war criminal."
"No, he hasn't," Victoria snapped, turning around to glare at him and Hector folded his arms, hip jutting out.
"Did you not just see that video?" he questioned from her and she glared in his direction. "He went on an unsanctioned mission and killed a civilian. I think you'll find that makes him a war criminal."
"He is not a fucking war criminal," Victoria snarled at him. "Whatever happened…it was an accident…he's not a bad man. He's the Homelander."
Hector sighed and realised that he wasn't going to get her to change her mind, but he wasn't going to humour her either. He shrugged his shoulders and wondered if she knew more than he thought. Did she know what he was or did she simply just not care?
"Yeah, he's a supe and clearly thinks he's above the law. He left that place…didn't even stay and apologise like a decent person would have done if it truly had been an accident," he said to her and Victoria shook her head. The worst part was that was exactly what she had thought too.
She had thought just that and she had no idea how to admit it because she was his fiancée. It was her job to defend him. It was her job to see the best in him. But she was struggling to do that after what she had just witnessed. She felt sick.
"He's not like that," Victoria said, defending him once more as she felt tears begin to leak from her eyes and fall down her cheeks. It took her a moment to compose herself, inhaling a sharp breath as Hector remained silent. She was clearly in shock and nothing he said was going to get her to change her mind on what had just gone on.
"Listen, why don't you just go and take some time off for a bit? You can go and spend some time in the meeting room? It's not booked for the day," Hector suggested to her and she nodded her head. She would do that. She would go and she would calm down and think rationally before calling Homelander.
Walking to the meeting room, she grabbed her satchel on the way, glad that she'd packed her laptop. Heading into it, she moved the sign so it said occupied and shut the door. Hector told her that he'd field her calls if her phone went off. Victoria opened up her laptop, but she didn't do any work. She turned the news on instead.
Scenes were building up outside Vought HQ of people gathering there. Some had even made signs, Homelander's face on some of them with the words 'not in our name' next to it. Victoria bit down hard enough on her tongue that she drew blood. The news kept on playing, debates taking place between people who thought that he was in the right and others who thought that he was in the wrong. Looking to her phone, she saw that Michelle was calling her. She didn't answer the call. She swiped to decline it, letting her friend go to voicemail. She didn't know if she could talk to her.
A text soon followed, Michelle saying that she just wanted to make sure Victoria was alright. She text her back quickly and told her she was, not caring that she was lying because the one person she wanted to talk to hadn't called her. She knew that it must be around eleven in the morning in New York by the time she left the office for the day, not entirely caring about how she'd done no work. She would work the weekend if she had to.
Moving through the office, Victoria took the metro home and figured she would call Homelander when she got home to try and work out what had happened. No doubt Vought had forced him through PR and legal meetings during the day. She still felt a bit of a coward for not calling him herself, but she was apprehensive. Heading into her apartment, she tossed her keys onto the worktop and shrugged out of her coat, leaving it on a leather stool before seeing him stood there.
Moving to the patio doors, Victoria pulled them open after unlocking them. "What are you doing here?" she asked from him and he entered the living room. She closed the door behind him, not willing for anyone to listen in. "And how long have you been stood there?"
"I just got here, but I had to see you," he said to her and she bit down on her bottom lip. "It's a fucking mess out there. Ashley's been on at me all day wanting me to apologise as if I have anything to apologise for…I mean…it was an accident. Do people seriously think that accidents don't happen? I'm out there trying to protect them and I'm the one being persecuted."
Silence engulfed the room then. Victoria felt herself go lightheaded. She reached for the lanyard around her neck and tossed it off to the side. He watched her, waiting for her to agree with him, but it never came. Instead, she moved into her kitchen and reached for a glass from her kitchen cabinet. He folded his arms over his chest and looked at her warily for a moment. She was being almost too silent. But then it bubbled over. She slammed the glass down and looked to him, hands clenching onto the worktop.
"Are you fucking serious?" she demanded from him and he could see the anger in her gaze. "I mean, are you actually being serious right now?"
He frowned. This was definitely not how he thought things were going to go. He had come here for validation, not for her to get angry at him. He had enough of that with Vought. He shrugged his shoulders, arms still defiantly folded across his chest.
"What do you want me to say? I went there to keep America safe. What do you think it entails?"
"You went there without any authority!" she snapped back at him and pulled the bottle of white wine from the fridge that she had been saving for the weekend. But she considered this an emergency worthy of opening it for. "No one told you to go there, John. You went on your own accord."
"And no one told me to go on patrol the night I met you, but I did," he retorted and flapped his arms by his side. "I can hardly wait for Vought to tell me when to go. By the time they do that, it will probably be too late…I stopped him before he could do anything else."
"Yes, but you also killed a little boy," Victoria retorted, choking on her words for a moment. She felt her throat begin to clench and her head ache. She didn't want to do this, but she knew that she had no other option but to get it out the way with. "You killed a little boy…and you just flew off…you didn't even stay and apologise…"
"Victoria, there will always be casualties," he retorted and she winced once more. Who was this man? Where was his compassion? Did he even have any for the poor kid? "I am trying to keep our country safe. I am doing what I have to do and, yes, sometimes innocent people get caught up in that."
"You think I don't know that?" she snapped at him.
"Sometimes I don't," he confessed, feeling the anger building up inside of him. "Something I think you think the world should be perfect…with your liberal values…but it isn't. We are at war and the country needs me to protect it."
"You're not a fucking God, John!" Victoria yelled at him, arms stretched wide and then hands moving to her hair and stroking her fingers through it. She swore that she was going to be sick.
"Yes, I fucking am," he snarled back at her before he could stop himself. Moving towards her, he could feel the anger bubble inside of him, threatening to hit breaking point. He didn't want to lose his temper with Victoria, but he was at risk of doing just that. "You can sit here and you can work for the UN…you can write your Recommendations…your Resolutions…but you're behind a desk, Victoria. You don't see what I see. You think that words keep people safe? Actions keep people safe."
"Those words lead to actions. There's a reason why decisions are taken after thinking about them…not running into something head first as you did because now an innocent kid is dead," Victoria snapped at him. "And I can accept casualties happen, but the way you're talking is so beyond the realms of anything I can accept."
"Christ, you're being overly sensitive," he complained with a roll of his eyes and she watched him walk away into her living area. She followed him, keeping right on his heels.
"I'm being overly sensitive? A kid died, John and you're not even here to tell me it was an accident you regret…that you're sorry…you're here to complain about how you're being persecuted. I didn't realise I was engaged to someone lacking empathy."
"You think I lack empathy? I've done nothing but be empathetic to you and what you've gone through in life, Victoria."
She scoffed and he turned round to face her. She stepped back then. "I'm sorry that was clearly such a chore for you," she snapped. "Who even are you?"
"The Homelander," he retorted. "I was created to be better than humans, Victoria. I was created to be better than them and I am the one who protects them. I am the one who helps them."
"What? By acting like a tyrant and doing whatever you want?" she questioned. "I can't believe this. I just can't believe I'm hearing any of this…I mean…I seriously don't know you, do I? Because the man I thought I got engaged to isn't this…"
"You know, I came here for advice. I thought that you would know what to do, but I guess that was a stupid mistake."
"Advice? I mean, if you even need advice then that's worrying." Victoria scoffed. "You need to apologise for what you did."
"Apologise? And what? Appear weak…say sorry for protecting people? Are you joking?"
"I wish I was," she replied and went back to find her wine, well aware that this was the biggest argument they'd had. She stood on the other side of the worktop to him and took a big gulp of her drink before putting it back down as Homelander settled onto the sofa, lounging back and looking to the ceiling. "What's happened to you, John? I don't even recognise you."
"Because you don't really know me, Victoria," he responded with a shake of his head and a dark chuckle. "You know the version of me that I show you. You know the sweet loving fiancé and that's how I always wanted to keep it…but this side of me…it's what Vought made. They made me into this and they made me better than other people."
"They might have made you, but they don't have to control you," Victoria responded and sipped on her wine again, remaining stood with her knees feeling shaky. "The things you just said to me weren't from the man I fell in love with."
"I'm him, trust me," Homelander assured her, staring straight ahead and wondering how he could set this right. He'd let his anger get the better of him with her and he saw that now. He saw that he had almost scared her away and he never wanted to do that. He never wanted to scare her off, but he couldn't stop himself. She had no idea what it was like to be him and go through everything that he did. She had no idea and she never would.
"You really don't think you should apologise?" Victoria asked from him.
"If I apologise now then when do I stop?" he asked her.
"Maybe just don't kill civilians on unauthorised missions and then you won't have to apologise," she sniped at him and he inhaled another sharp breath. She was clearly annoyed with him and he had no idea how to handle it at that moment in time. "I get that you do what you do to protect America, but this…the way you've done it…it's so wrong, John. And the fact that you aren't even showing any remorse…that's even worse."
"I'm not apologise for who I am."
"And I don't want you to apologise for that. Hell, I don't even want you to apologise because it's what I think you should do…I want you to apologise because you want to apologise and try and set things right," Victoria said and she tucked her hair behind her ears.
The distance between them felt vaster than it had ever felt before. It didn't feel right, but she almost knew that there would be no coming back from this. Could they work through this because she sure as hell didn't want to be with him if this was who he truly was.
"I mean…I dropped nine points in the polls," he said to her and she rolled her eyes.
"Fuck the polls, John, someone has died," she snapped at him, voice rising again. Her hands went to her hair and she tugged her fingers through it. "You know what? We're not getting anywhere. I think you should go."
Looking to her then, he turned his head to the side and his eyes widened. "You think I should go?"
"Do you want to keep arguing about this? Because I have nothing left to say on the matter," she told him. He observed her and noted that her eyes were brimming with tears. Was she really so upset about this. Apparently so because she wasn't even looking in his direction. She had turned her gaze away and finished the glass of wine.
Placing the glass into the stainless steel sink, she headed on over to her bedroom. Pushing the door open, she walked in and Homelander shook his head and sighed. Moving to his feet, he followed her in and saw that she had started putting clothes away into her wardrobe. No doubt she'd left them strewn there all week. She was always getting up early and changing outfits, unable to settle on what to wear most of the time.
"I don't think we're finished here," he said to her and she shrugged again, shoulders moving up and down in defeat. "Victoria, would you just look at me?"
"Did you mean what you said? About me…dealing with me…showing me empathy…because I told you everything, John. I opened up to you about everything in my childhood and what? Did you really not care? Did you really not feel any sympathy?"
"Of course I did," he said, snapping back at her and she folded a jumper up, dropping it onto the end of her bed before reaching for a hanger for her dress. "You know that I did, Victoria. I…I didn't mean what I said…it's not a chore for me. Looking after you is not a chore."
"But it's not that I want looking after, John," she responded to him and he wondered precisely what it was she did want. "I just want to know that the man I fell in love with isn't some heartless ego-centric supe who think he's above everyone else and the way you've just been talking…well…it makes me think you're exactly that."
"I can't deny that I'm better, Victoria," he said. "And people want me to be better than them because they know that's how I protect them."
"I have no idea how this has happened," Victoria said as much to herself as to him, placing the dress into her closet. "How did I go from being so certain that I knew you to standing here and questioning everything about you…about us…"
"Seriously?" he asked from her, moving further into the room. He went to reach for her, but she held her hands up and stepped back, not wanting to be anywhere near him. He froze then, a soft gasp of a laugh of disbelief escaping his lips. "Victoria…it's me…you know who I am to you."
"I want to believe that, but you literally just said that I don't know the full you," Victoria said. "And clearly, I don't because right now…hearing you…seeing that video…I just can't understand it. It doesn't resonate with the man who proposed to me."
"Are we seriously going to fall out over this? We're going to fall out over a random kid?"
"It's not the kid!" Victoria yelled, wishing that he would understand that. She threw the top she had picked up back to the ground and looked up at him, glaring at him. "It's your reaction. If you had come here and told me you were sorry then I'd have understood. I'd have understood you never meant it and it had been a tragic accident. I'd have stood by you through that because…fuck…you're my fiancé and I fucking love you…but this…this entire holier than thou saviour act…it's bullshit and I don't agree with it and I'm not going to sit here and defend it or tell you that I understand because I fucking don't."
Homelander was taken back by that. Grabbing hold of her arm before she could barge past him, he forced her to turn back around to face him. She looked down at where he was gripping hold of her, seeing his gloved fingers on her bare skin.
"You know that I don't want to leave things like this. I'll apologise if it makes you happy. I'll go back and I'll do a press conference and say I'm sorry."
"You're still not getting it, are you?" she said. "I don't want you to do it for me. I want you to do it because you think it's the right thing, but you don't…so we're done here. Really, John, we're done."
"No," he said firmly. "We're not done."
"Yes, we are," she responded and tried to pull her wrist away from him, but his grip was tight and remained firm. "John, seriously, we're finished here."
"With this argument? Or with us?" he questioned, his own eyes widening and Victoria noticed that he was on the verge of crying. But she wasn't going to coddle him. She wasn't going to tell him that everything was fine because it really wasn't. She'd woken up and everything had been perfect, but now nothing was perfect. Nothing was how it should be.
"I think we need space," Victoria simply said to him. She wasn't going to give him anything else because he didn't deserve anything else from her. "Please…because if you stay here then we both might end up saying something we regret and I don't want to do that. I think we've said enough."
"No," Homelander said and he knew that he was on the verge of crying. This wasn't how his day was supposed to have gone. Victoria was his constant in life. She was the one who he needed. She was the one who he kept happy and it seemed that he couldn't even do that. Whoever had filmed him had ruined things for him. "Victoria…you don't mean that…just let me stay tonight and we can work this out…"
"I don't think we can…not tonight," Victoria said. "Please, John, just go home. Go back to New York."
"You…you're really serious about this, aren't you?"
"Yes," was all she answered him with and he nodded his head once. He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with his free hand. His grip loosened on her wrist and she pulled it from him. She folded her arms over her chest and looked away from him. It was like she couldn't even stand to look at him.
And that hurt him. It destroyed him inside because she was the one who stood by him. She was the one who didn't abandon him. And now that was what she was doing. But it was apparent that she wasn't going to give him what he needed or wanted. She wasn't going to give him any validation. And so he nodded his head.
"Fine," he said, tone terse. "I'll be back tomorrow."
She said nothing. She just sat on the edge of her bed and looked into the distance. He looked to her for a moment, wondering if she was going to make eye contact, but it never came. Instead, she just kept mute and he turned on his heel to leave her. She waited to make sure he was out of the apartment before the tears flowed freely. She cried and looked to the engagement ring on her finger before laying down and thinking that this could be the end. How did they even come back from this?
…
"I couldn't believe it when I saw your sister on the TV."
Billy had escaped the city for the suburbs. He needed to get away and Judy was the only one he could think of seeing. She still had his dog as well. She was stood in the kitchen after he had fussed over Terror. She was making a cup of tea, her thick English accent still shining through despite having lived in the States for a number of years.
"Yeah," was all Billy could say to her.
"Do you think that you two will ever make up? Your mum is constantly calling me. Vicky won't return any of her calls and she's told her all about your dad."
"Now why would she want to see him?" Billy questioned his aunt, picking up the mug she had set in front of him. He took a sip of the liquid and let it burn the back of his throat.
"He's dying, Billy," Judy said to him, voice slightly terser than usual. "They're flying to the States and it would be quite something if you could get her to come back and see them…even if it is just for closure."
"She doesn't want closure…she doesn't want anything to do with us."
"Does she think she's better than us? Just because she's engaged to Homelander-"
"-It's not that," Billy interrupted, unable to stop himself from defending his sister. He knew why she was keeping herself to herself. "You know it's not that, Judy. You know what dad did…and you know what Eddie did to her. Dad was the one who brought him round...let him into the flat."
"He might not have known-"
"-Chances are he knew. You heard in court how our rent was cheaper than all of his other tenants. You know why that is," Billy settled on saying to his aunt. "He knew. He just didn't do anything about it."
"Your mum was always innocent, Billy. You know that."
And Billy did know that. He was well aware of it. "I'm off to take Terror for a walk," he simply said, not wanting to be involved in the conversation for any longer. He had no desire to talk about it with anyone but his sister. She was the only one he might be able to stomach the conversation with and he still had to get her out and away from Homelander.
…
He didn't want to swallow his pride, but he knew that he had to. He had to do the one thing that he didn't want to but knew would make sense. He had gone to Congresswoman Neuman's rally and tried to make peace, but it had gone horribly one. No one understood why he had done what he had done. They didn't get it and they had turned on him. They were calling him a war criminal. They were determined to tarnish his reputation. And there was only one woman he knew who might be able to understand.
Knocking on her door, he gulped loudly and waited for her to tell him to come in. Stepping into her trailer, he saw bouquets of flowers dotted around and adding some colour to the beige space. He closed the door behind himself, cape flowing around his body. She looked up and over to him, brow arched and a knowing smile on her face. Had she expected him to come?
"I saw your little press conference," Stormfront said to him.
She remained sat on the couch, her laptop open in front of her. Homelander's hands went behind his back and he struggled to get his words out. He didn't want her help. He never really wanted anyone's help. But it seemed that he did need her help. He needed her to tell him what to do because she had the crowd on side. She had the crowd and she was spreading his message.
"Vought want me to apologise," Homelander settled on saying.
Stormfront scoffed. "Apologise for keeping the country safe? It's ridiculous."
"That's exactly what I said," Homelander responded, unable to stop himself from agreeing on that point. "I shouldn't need to apologise for being what I am or who I am. I did what had to be done…I mean…Saving America…what do they think that entails?"
"They're all bleeding-heart liberals," Stormfront said to him and she patted the spot next to her. Hesitantly, he moved to sit down next to her, pulling his cape to one side so that it was out of the way. "They moan and complain, but they have no idea what needs to be done to keep the country safe…to keep its people safe…"
"That's the point," Homelander exclaimed, hand waving around in the air. "And I have no idea what they want from me because apologising…I have nothing to apologise for and Victoria…I mean…she would have me go out there and fucking cry on camera with remorse."
"Because she doesn't get it," Stormfront said to him, looking and seeing how his face seemed rather drawn and his eyes almost wet. Had he been crying? Had he really been crying over her? Some pointless young woman who had no conception of the world? "She's a human. She's always going to be a human and she's never going to understand what it is like to be better and to have the ability to protect people."
"I thought she knew. I thought she'd understand."
"She's just like Neuman," Stormfront said. "She's precisely like her and the others. She believes in words over actions when this country needs actions. It needs to be defended and you…you are the best of us. You are the only one who can truly help us."
He looked to her then and saw her smiling at him, the motion almost tender and seemingly heartfelt. He suspected it was, but he had no idea. He just kept on staring at her and for the first time that day he felt as though someone understood him. Someone was willing to listen to him.
"I've done things for her…" Homelander trailed off, leaning back on the sofa and closing his eyes, a hand going to massage his forehead lazily. "I've done things to keep her safe…happy…kept things from her in order to keep her content…and she doesn't get it. She just doesn't get it and I want her to get it. I want her on my side."
"I get that," Stormfront said to him. "And I get that you love her. I can see that much."
"More than anything," Homelander confessed. "And I just need her to see it…to see that this isn't important, but she's too damn stubborn in her beliefs. She's not going to change her mind on this one and so the only way I can get her back on side is by apologising and being remorseful even though I don't want to."
"What if I told you there was another way?" Stormfront asked from him. "I can get your polls boosted again and you won't need to apologise."
"Doubt Victoria would be happy with that."
"Well, I guess you have a choice to make," Stormfront said with a shrug. "Either you apologise and try to win her round or you recognise that you have no need to apologise and can be yourself…get your poll numbers up again…it's your choice."
He was quiet then, thinking about his fiancée in Paris. He thought about how upset she was and the argument that they'd had. And she didn't get it. She didn't get it. And so he made his choice. He made his choice and wondered how he could get Victoria back on side.
…
Annie had confronted Stormfront over true identity at the end of the day. She had hacked into her computer by guessing her password. It had been her mother's name and she'd revealed it to her earlier in the day. She's found emails from Stan Edgar himself. She had almost been caught, but had gotten out of the trailer, grateful for when Homelander had come knocking on the door. She knew that he was having a turbulent day and Ashley had been tearing her hair out trying to find him.
"Starlight," Homelander said as he entered Stormfront's trailer to find the two women glaring at each other. "Not interrupting, am I?"
"No, I was just running some lines with Stormfront here," Annie said, the lie rolling off her tongue. But Stormfront didn't challenge it. She just agreed with Annie because she knew that no one could know she was actually Liberty. "Anyway, I was hoping to find you. I was going to see if Victoria was free tonight. I thought I'd call her."
"I'm sure she will be," Homelander simply said, hands on his hips and gaze looking down. He almost looked downtrodden.
"You're not going to visit her?" Annie pushed him.
"Well, considering she told me to leave when I went to her this morning, I'd guess not," Homelander spat out and Annie's eyes widened. So they'd discussed what had happened and had argued over it. Annie suspected that they might. She knew what Victoria was like. She knew that they were similar and Homelander's actions had been abhorrent to Annie too.
"Sorry…I didn't know you were arguing…" Annie simply said.
"I think that's probably a personal thing," Stormfront was the one to speak. "And Victoria is simply unaware of what the world is like…what it's like to be a supe and have the pressures of the world on her shoulders. She really should be grateful to have Homelander not just protecting her, but loving her like she is an equal to us."
Annie bit down on the inside of her cheek. She expected Homelander to say something to Stormfront. She expected him to snap at her and tell her that Victoria was his equal and that he loved her. But he said none of that. Instead, his gaze snapped over to Stormfront and his chest almost seemed to puff out. Was he falling for what she was saying? Annie noticed the way she was looking at him and her stomach churned. Stormfront was clearly infatuated with him. But Homelander despised her. He hadn't said as much, but his words to her weren't exactly pleasant whenever they were in meetings.
"Well, I'll go then," Annie said, unable to stand being around them any longer.
Slipping past Homelander, she closed the door as he thanked Stormfront, telling her how he had gained points over the last few hours. Biting down on her lip, Annie changed in her trailer. She slipped out of her costume and wiped her makeup off before heading back to the Tower in jeans and a zip-up jacket. Only when she was back in her apartment did she call Victoria. She listened to the phone ring and she expected it to go to voicemail. She knew that it would be early hours of the morning in Paris and so she shouldn't expect her to pick up. But she did.
"Annie," Victoria greeted her.
"Hey, I didn't know if you were going to be asleep," Annie said to her.
"I've tried, but can't get to sleep. I'm just sat up…"
"Are you in your apartment?"
"Yeah," Victoria replied. "I guess you've seen the news."
"Ashley's been losing her mind over it all day, especially when he did that press conference."
"Yeah," was all that Victoria could say back to her. She didn't want to think about that.
She had seen it on the news and had been in disbelief, cursing him for what he had said. He had said how it was upsetting that someone had been killed, but that accidents happened when you were protecting the country. It was exactly the same thing he had said to her in the apartment and the crowd hadn't bought it just as she hadn't. She despised what was coming out of his mouth, struggling to comprehend how this man was her John. Had Vought really destroyed him beyond recognition? Made him think that he actually could do what he wanted?
But in recent hours her social media accounts had been flooded with hashtags that were supporting Homelander and memes depicting him as some kind of hero and Neuman as someone who was too weak to do what needed to be done to protect America. She'd locked her phone and set it on her bedside table before laying down, hand by her eye on her pillow and gaze set on her engagement ring.
"I know that you don't agree with what he's done because I know you," Annie whispered and Victoria's eyes closed, tears threatening to leak once more.
"I could accept it if he had come to me and said it had been an accident…that he was just trying to help because he thought he was doing the right thing…but he didn't, Annie. He didn't show an ounce of remorse and I have no idea how I'm supposed to accept that…the way he was talking, like this was inevitable…I felt sick," Victoria confessed to her. "And then he kept saying how I didn't know the real him…that there was a side to him he kept from me. Where the fuck did that come from?"
Annie was quiet then, her breathing shallow and she struggled to offer Victoria any words of comfort. How could she when she knew the entire truth?
"I need to come and see you," Annie finally settled on saying.
Sitting up, Victoria moved a hand behind her to support her weight as she frowned. "Why?"
"I can't do this over the phone, Vicky," Annie said. "This isn't something we can do over the phone and I know that this is probably scary…worrying…but…if I ask you to go somewhere…get out of your apartment…can you do that?"
"Annie, what is going on?" Victoria asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, almost like she was poised to jump and run if she had to.
"I just need you to get away from him. Please."
"Why? What has he done?"
"Nothing…but he's not…what he's been saying to you…about another side to him. It's true, Victoria. It's true because I've seen it. I know that he is all smiles and sweetness when he's around you, but I need you to trust me when I tell you that's not who he is."
"Annie, you're scaring me," Victoria whispered, turning on her bedside lamp and standing up, pyjamas falling down her body as she began pacing. "He's never done anything like this before…he…why should I be scared of him? I've never been scared of him."
"Victoria, please, I don't have long to explain any of this," Annie retorted, tone stern. "You've just told me that he's admitted to keeping things from you and I know what those things are. I am going to tell you, I swear on it, but I need you to get somewhere safe first…somewhere he won't find you for the next day or two."
"I just don't-"
"-Vicky, please," Annie interrupted her. "Just believe me. I've been off with you and I know I have been, but this is why. He's the reason why. Him and Stormfront…so just do this because I swear to you that I am telling the truth. I swear to you that you need to pack a bag and go. Turn your phone off and use a burner. I'll come and find you when I can."
"I have work, Annie. I have people who won't expect me to go missing."
"Call in sick if you have to," Annie said to her. "Just go and wait for me. Do that…please?"
Victoria wanted to say no. She wanted to tell Annie that this was an overreaction. But she couldn't. Somewhere, in the pit of her stomach, she knew that something wasn't right. And so she clung onto the phone and nodded before a soft 'okay' escaped her lips.
…
Homelander had gone to Paris as soon as his numbers had boosted once more. He was back to being popular and his mishap seemed to have been overshadowed by people stating how they should be thanking him for everything he had done. He thought that would be the end of it. He'd gone back to Victoria, hoping that she would think the same thing too. Landing on the patio to her apartment, he peered inside, but there was no one home. He frowned at the sight of the apartment.
The worktops were empty and her laptop wasn't on the coffee table. He frowned, knocking and waiting to see if she answered, but there was no response. Huffing to himself, he easily broke the door open, pushing it from its hinges. Entering the space, he looked around. Her coat was gone. There were no shoes lying around by the door. Moving further into the apartment, he came to her bedroom.
The bed was neatly made. The clothes that had been there the previous day had been tidied up. And then he spotted it. On her bedside table there was a piece of paper that caught his attention, her engagement ring perched on top of it.
John,
I've had to go away for a few days on work business. I think it's for the best so that we have some space and work out how to move forwards. I never wanted it to go like this, but I hardly recognised who you were yesterday. I still love you. I always will love you. I just don't know if I like you. I'm sorry. Keep the ring safe.
Yours,
Victoria.
His face contorted as a range of emotions moved through his body. She had left him. She had gone on some work trip and left him with this stupid note? No. He didn't think so. Screwing the letter up in his hands, he tossed it onto her duvet and reached for his phone. Dialling her number, there was no ringing coming from it. She'd turned it off so he couldn't trace her.
"No," he said to himself, beginning to pace her room. "No…this isn't it…she isn't leaving me. She isn't leaving me."
He caught his reflection in the mirror and saw that his eyes were wide and wet. Looking to himself, he wiped them with the back of his hand and stuck his chin out, jaw firm and square. He looked himself in the eye and nodded. "She's not leaving me," he said forcefully, turning on his heel and going back to pick the engagement ring up. He kept it safe in his pocket and stormed out of the apartment, vowing to bring her back and destroy anyone who dared to stand in his way.
...
A/N: Back again! So things are beginning to kick off and the next few chapters will be pretty dramatic! I am thinking of going into season 3, but really would love to know if people are still reading and interested in this!