Victoria had the phone pressed to her ear, heels discarded by the sofa and free hand moving through her hair. Homelander stood in the doorway to the living room and kitchen, watching her as she paced up and down.
"No…I know, mum…I didn't want to, but what other choice did I have? Did you see what they were saying about me?"
Homelander was doing his best not to eavesdrop, but he was finding that increasingly difficult. Victoria also knew that he was listening in, unable to help himself. She kept her gaze straight ahead, not looking at her husband as she tried to diffuse the situation with her mother. A part of her had considered not calling her. She'd thought about just leaving it, but then she knew that she couldn't. She knew that she'd constantly be wondering about her mum.
"I've had death threats, Victoria. Your father is in hospital. He's been beaten up, but he won't say who did it…his fingers are broken and he's been burned too."
"I'm sorry that you're having to deal with this, mum. I never intended for any of this to happen."
"And your father?"
"You think I care about him after everything he did to us? To Billy? Lenny? Even you? If he's in hospital because someone beat him up then that's more than he deserves," Victoria said and Homelander didn't want to tell her that he had been the one who had put him in hospital. He didn't care, but he wasn't entirely sure Victoria would be happy with him. "I don't know what you want me to do, mum. I can give you money and you can get away."
"You think I want money?" her mother asked, voice sounding almost insulted. "You're my daughter, Victoria. I just…can we not talk? Please? Can we not talk about this?"
Victoria exhaled a sharp breath. "What is there to talk about?" she wondered and she finally stopped pacing. She stood by the window, looking out over the New York skyline. It was a very different view to the one she'd grown up with. Victoria pressed her fingertips to the glass and let them sit there as she bowed her head. "It's all too late, mum."
"It doesn't have to be. You know that it doesn't have to be. Please, Victoria, I'm in a hotel…out in Clapham…just…I'm scared and I've got journalists phoning me at every hour of the day despite the fact I've changed my number. I don't know what to say to them or what to do. I haven't had media training like you. You spoke so eloquently and you knew what to say."
"I'm not media trained, mum," Victoria said. "John never asked me to do any of that. I just told the truth."
"John?"
"Homelander's real name," Victoria clarified.
Her mum let out a deep sigh. "I haven't even met your husband, Victoria. I've never had a chance to meet him and now you have a daughter…a little girl…and I have a grandkid. I just…please, can you not just come out here? Can you not just come and see me? Please? Not for your father, but for me."
Victoria said nothing and Homelander wanted to storm over there and take the phone from her ear and hang up. He wanted to tell the woman on the other end that she didn't have a relationship with her daughter and she never would. Homelander was the only family Victoria needed. He'd given her two children. He'd provided her with more than they ever had. She shouldn't even give them the time of day.
"It's really busy here, mum. I've got work stuff…Christmas…Evie and Ryan…" Victoria said, but she didn't sound entirely convincing.
"Please. I wouldn't ask you unless I had to. And I have to, Vic. I have to fix this."
"Mum, there's not fixing us," Victoria said to her. "Too much time has passed. We can't go back."
"No, but we can go forwards. I want to make things right between us. I just…I don't want any regrets."
"They're regrets on your part," Victoria replied.
"Then please, don't let me have any. Just come out here…if only for one night…you don't need to stay. I can say my piece and then if you want nothing to do with me you can go."
Homelander knew his wife was going to relent. She was going to give in and she was going to go back to London. His fingers clenched into fists by his side and he felt an air of anger surround him. He didn't want this to happen. He didn't want her to leave him. But he knew she'd be annoyed with him if he stopped her.
"Just text me the address and I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you, Victoria, thank you so much."
"Bye, mum," Victoria hung up the phone and tossed it onto the sofa before burying her face in her hands and leaning back against the window. Homelander moved slowly towards her, hands behind his back and eyes fixed on her. Standing in front of her, he took her wrists and moved her hands from her face. Looking at him, Victoria shrugged her shoulders. "Am I an idiot?" she wondered from him and his face scrunched up. "Am I an idiot for going to her?"
Homelander didn't want to tell her that he didn't think she was an idiot. He thought that she was being weak and too forgiving. He thought that a part of her was perhaps being selfish considering how busy he was and he needed her at home.
But then he knew what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to be the supportive husband. And so he would be that for her.
"She's your mom," he said with a shrug. "I just don't want you to go there and get hurt."
"And I don't want that either, but I need to go. I think I need closure just as much as she does," Victoria said. "But the kids…I'll be gone for probably two days and I can't take them with me. It's too far of a journey and-"
"-The kids will be fine," Homelander interrupted her. "I'll be here with them and they have Natalie too. It'll only be for a couple of days. We can manage. If you want to do this then we can find a way around things."
Victoria brows furrowed and she felt him move his hands from her wrists, cupping her waist in his fingertips. "You're sure?" she asked, slightly unnerved that he was being so understanding. She hadn't expected that from him, not truly. She just nodded her head once and suspected this was as good as she was going to get from him. She wasn't going to push back and ask him why he was being so nice. "I'll go and look for flights-"
"-You know Vought has the jet, right?" Homelander interrupted her.
"I don't need a jet. We'd have to get the pilot…no…I can find something from JFK. There's flights to London all of the time. There will be a spare ticket, surely," Victoria said and she slipped from his grip and went to pick her phone up again. He took hold of her by the arm to stop her from moving off, tugging her back to him as she reached for his forearms.
"I'll have Ashley sort it," Homelander told her. "You don't need to do that. Just…go and pack a case…I'll get your ticket sorted."
"You're sure?"
"Go," he said and he bent down and kissed her swiftly before she took off up the spiral staircase. His hands went to his hips and he rolled his eyes before heading to the landline phone. He dialled for Ashley and got her assistant. He told her that he needed a first-class ticket to London asap and to email it to Victoria when she'd booked it.
He moved up the stairs after his wife and found her in the bedroom. She had her weekend duffle bag open on the mattress and was tugging out clean shirts from the closet along with two pairs of jeans. She folded them up and then dropped clean underwear on top of them, thinking about what toiletries she'd need.
"Ashley's assistant is looking into it," Homelander told her, closing the door to the bedroom so that they didn't wake the kids.
"Ashley?"
"Yeah, her assistant," Homelander replied.
"No, her assistant is also called Ashley," Victoria told her husband.
"Right…yeah, guess so," Homelander retorted with a shrug. "Either way, she's going to email you when she's got it."
"Thank you," Victoria said gratefully and she grabbed her hairbrush and then her makeup bag. She threw them on top of the clothes and then headed into the bathroom and picked up her toothbrush, toothpaste and shampoo and conditioner along with a travel-sized body scrub she kept in the cabinet in the corner. Adding them to the bag, she looked into it and shook her head. "This is mad," she said to him and he pulled his gloves from his hands, throwing them onto her vanity unit. "I never meant for any of this to happen to them."
"I know, sweetheart," Homelander said. "I know that you never wanted any of this to happen."
"Death threats?" Victoria said, almost like she couldn't believe it herself. "I mean, what the hell? Why do people do that? I don't get it."
Homelander didn't tell her about security concerns. When they'd first started dating, she thought that the online comments had been bad enough, but there had been the physical letters too. There had been people who had threatened her life. The things they'd said that they would do to her had been sickening. Madelyn had dealt with them, of course, but he'd still read some of them. Even back then, when he wasn't sure what he felt for her, he'd wanted to find every sick bastard and kill them.
"Because people are pathetic," Homelander said to her. "And going there…you know that you don't need to have any expectations, right? Your mum and dad don't deserve anything from you."
"I know," Victoria said to him, "but my mum…I wonder if a part of her felt trapped with my dad too. I don't know. All I do know is that I'm not going to be paying him a visit in hospital. I'm not exactly sorry that someone beat him up, but I don't care. I mean, I don't want that to happen, but I'm not going to cry over him. Fuck, does that make me just as bad?" she wondered and she settled down onto the edge of the bed. Homelander moved to sit next to her, tugging his cape out of the way.
He should be honest with her. He should tell her that he'd paid him a visit after he'd spoken out against his daughter. He should tell her how he'd sat there and heard him groan in pain as he forced him to hurt himself the same way he'd hurt Victoria. But he didn't. He knew Sam wouldn't say anything either. He'd warned him what would happen if he did.
"Listen to me," Homelander urged from her, "after he did what he did to you…years of hurting you…the fact that someone beat him up just once in his miserable life is probably not enough. He should suffer more for what he did to you."
"It wasn't just me," Victoria said.
Homelander exhaled gently. He knew it had been Billy and Lenny too. But he was just concerned with his wife. He saw her check her phone as it vibrated on the bed. She reached behind her for where she'd thrown it onto the quilt. Looking at the screen, she held it further from her eyes and squinted.
"Six a.m. from JFK…which means I'll need to be there for four…leave here at about three…so I have," she glanced to the clock on her bedside table, "three hours before I have to go."
"You going to try and sleep?"
"I don't see much point," Victoria said to him. "And I don't want to wake Ryan and Evie. When I'm gone then you need to know that Evie is getting able to dress herself, but she still isn't entirely there. She put her dress on inside out the other day. Also, please don't let her pick up her dummy either…and I'm trying to get her to cut her food, but that's a bit of a challenge."
"Vic, I can look after the kids," Homelander said, but she wasn't too sure if he could. He wasn't around for all of the everyday things. He hadn't weaned Evelyn off of liquids to solid food. He hadn't been there when Victoria had tried to potty train her either. She knew he loved Evelyn. He would play with her and read her bedtime stories, but he wasn't entirely familiar with practicalities.
"Well, Natalie will look after them while you're working," Victoria said. "And just call me if you need anything. If the six-a.m. flight gets me there for…what? About eleven a.m. local time then I could maybe make another evening flight and be here first thing tomorrow morning."
"Just do what you need to do, but everything will be fine here," Homelander promised her. "Come here," he urged from her and she felt him tug her down until she was laid on the bed and he laid on his side. "Look, it'll all be alright. Everything will be fine and you will be back home before you know it."
"It's just exhausting," Victoria complained to him. "It feels like it's one thing after another."
"I know, sweetheart," he assured her and he moved a finger to trace along the edge of the v in her gown. Victoria shuddered at the feeling of his finger tickling her skin and she closed her eyes as he kissed her neck. "But you'll be home before you know it," he said to her in between pecks against her skin. "And it'll be Christmas. We'll be sat downstairs with the kids…unwrapping presents…eating Christmas dinner…it'll be everything we ever wanted for them and for us."
"I can't wait," Victoria said and she tilted her head back as his teeth scraped her skin and a moan escaped her. "John…I need to finish packing at some point."
"You have three hours before you have to go. Besides, I can help tire you out so you sleep on the flight," he said to her. "I've missed you, Vic. I've missed you so much…just relax, alright? Let me help you relax."
Bringing his lips to meet hers, he felt her arms wrap around his neck and he knew he had her where he wanted her.
…
Victoria text Homelander when she was in the car on the way to the hotel where her mum was staying. She'd been happy that her husband had insisted on her flying first-class as she'd managed to recline and get at least a couple of hours sleep. She'd slept walked out of the terminal and had just seen the sign held up by a private driver with her name on it. She'd kept her head down throughout the entire flight, well aware that people knew who she was. As she passed through at passport control with her British passport, she was glad that she was able to bypass the long security queue.
Arriving at the hotel, Victoria walked through reception, duffle bag in hand. It was a chain hotel and the woman on reception didn't look up as Victoria bypassed her for the elevator. Hitting the third-floor button, she took deep breaths before arriving at the floor and she moved down to the room 312. She stood in front of the door and balled her hand into a fist.
Knocking on the door, she waited patiently for her mum to open it. Footsteps approached and Victoria looked at her as she stood there. She looked exactly like she had the last time Victoria had seen her with Billy. She was shorter than Victoria and dressed in a pink blouse with grey trousers. Her hair, usually neatly curled, was askew on her head.
"Victoria," she breathed her daughter's name. Connie Butcher looked over her and shook her head. "Look at you," she said.
"Hi, mum," Victoria greeted and Connie stood to the side to let Victoria come in.
Moving into the bedroom, Victoria saw that the bed was neatly made and her clothes hung up in the open wardrobe. There was a flat screen TV on the wall with a desk underneath it housing a kettle and two brewed mugs of tea with UHT milk in small cartons next to them.
"I couldn't remember if you had milk or not," Connie said.
"Two milks, no sugar," Victoria said and she left her duffle bag on the floor by the door. Connie moved to the brewing teas and poured milk into one. She stirred it, the spoon clattering against the white cup before handing it to Victoria who murmured a thanks and took it. She went to sit in the armchair by the window that had the curtains closed still.
"I didn't think you'd come," Connie confessed and tugged the chair out from the desk, picking at a frayed bit of fabric. "I wasn't entirely sure…but I just…I needed to talk to you."
"I'm here," Victoria said. "I wasn't sure if I was going to come or not, I'll be honest."
"I wouldn't really blame you if you didn't," Connie assured her daughter. "After everything that's happened and what you've been through, I really wouldn't blame you for not wanting to see me."
"I didn't come here to rehash the past, mum," Victoria said to her. "I've done enough talking about Eddie to last me a lifetime…not to mention thinking about him. I don't want to go over everything that he did."
"And I'm not asking you too, love," Connie said, holding her hands up in surrender. "I sat in that courtroom every day and heard it all. I heard what he did to you and I…I didn't know how to look after you, Victoria. I didn't know how to comfort you because I was ashamed. I was ashamed of myself for not being able to look after you when that was my job. I'm your mum. I should be able to look after you and I failed you."
"You never knew."
"That's not the point," Connie shook her head. "I should've known. I should've been there for you and you…I wish that you'd felt that you could tell me. I wish that we'd been closer."
Victoria moved her hand and raked her fingers through her hair, tossing it back from her face. "You worked all hours of the day, mum. There was never really any chance for any bonding. I don't…you know I don't blame you for any of it. I don't blame you for what happened to me."
"But you should."
"Would blaming you make me feel any better?" Victoria questioned. "I blamed Eddie. I blamed dad. He was the one who was there when it happened. He let Eddie in."
"Why did you never tell me?" Connie asked. "I'm not…I don't want to rehash this for you…but why did you never tell me what happened? Why was it a teacher you went to? If I'd have known then I'd have stopped it, Vic. I'd have gotten you away from that monster."
Victoria watched her intently and tried to consider what she wanted to say. She sipped on the cup of tea, feeling it burn her tongue but not caring. She clasped the mug between her hands.
"Because, since I was a kid, I'd been brought up to be silent. Being silent kept me safe," Victoria said. "Billy used to tell me to be quiet so that dad would hit him and not me. Lenny told me the same thing then too. Dad used to hit me for being too loud…and so I always kept quiet. Eddie knew what to say to make me shut up too. I just…I thought things would get worse if I spoke out and so I never did. I never wanted to."
Connie's eyes watered as she watched her daughter continue to peer down into the depths of her tea.
"And I'd have kept silent if dad hadn't opened his mouth and said what he did," Victoria said, "but the things that were being said about me online were so vicious…so false…that I decided I couldn't do it anymore," she said and looked up to her mother. "I couldn't let other people tell my story for me. I wanted to have a voice and so I spoke out. I told the truth. I never imagined it would be like this…that people would come after you and dad."
Placing her mug down on the desk, Connie leant forwards and clasped her hands together. A stray tear had escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. Victoria took another sip of tea and then put the mug on the floor by the chair's leg.
"I don't think there's anything that I can say but I'm sorry," Connie confessed to her. "Nothing else is going to be enough, is it?"
"I…I don't even know if sorry is what I want to hear," Victoria confessed to her mother. "I don't really want anything but to move on with my life."
"I understand that. Your little girl…she's so sweet…Evelyn," Connie said and a sad smile formed on her face. "What's she like?"
"She's…she's my everything," Victoria whispered. "I'd do anything for her."
"You'll be a great mother," Connie said confidently.
"I do just look at her and I wonder…what was it about me? Did you not feel the same? Was it me?"
"Darling, no," Connie said quickly. "I always loved you. I always loved you and your brothers. You meant everything to me. I just…I had to work all of the time and I found it so hard whenever I came home to mess. You were a little girl when your brother was constantly getting into fights in school. Your father never dealt with them and I…I don't want to use it as an excuse…but coming home…dealing with Billy and then your father…I just…I just never knew how to be with you. I never knew what you wanted and then by the time you were older you didn't want me. You would go to your room and bury your nose in a book. I never knew how to bond."
Victoria supposed she understood where her mother was coming from. "You never knew about Eddie, but you knew about dad. You had to. Billy ran away as soon as he could. Lenny…you know what happened to Lenny…"
"I know," Connie said and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I know what he did to your brothers and to you. I know what he did to me too…and I know what you want to ask. You want to know why I didn't get out. Why didn't I take you and leave?"
"Why didn't you?" Victoria dared to wonder.
"Fear...feeling like I couldn't get out. He had me under his thumb and I didn't know how to get out," Connie said. "Being under the thumb of a powerful man is scary and your father…he knew what to say to keep me there…just like Eddie knew how to keep you quiet. It just took me a while to gain the courage to leave him. Do I wish that I could go back in time and leave him as soon as he laid a finger on me…on Billy? Of course I do, but I can't, Vicky. I can't go back in time."
And a part of Victoria understood her mother at that moment in time more than she ever had done before. Crossing one leg over the other, Victoria unbuttoned her coat and pushed it from her shoulders, revealing the grey Durham University logo-sweatshirt she wore over a pair of skinny jeans and ankle boots.
"Did you love him?" she asked her mother.
"At one time, yes."
"Even when he did those things…horrible things…"
"I despised him at times," Connie said, "but the issue with love, Victoria, is that it's hard to let go of."
The two women went silent then and Victoria bent down to pick her mug up again. She took another sip of her tea and Connie observed her daughter intently then, suspecting that there was something else on her mind. She had an idea what it might be, but she knew it was risky bringing it up with her.
"You know what it's like to feel trapped, don't you?"
Victoria's eyes widened then and she looked at her mother with surprise. Connie just bent forwards and nodded thoughtfully.
"I can see it in your face, darling," she said to her. "I might not be the best mother, but I am still your mother. I can't claim to know you…because I don't…but what I do know is that you're a smart, independent woman. You interned at the UN. You work on asylum and immigration law. You…you wanted to change the world for the better. You always did, even as a kid. He's your husband, but he's got you under his thumb."
"He's my husband. I love him," Victoria replied but the line felt so rehearsed.
"You might love him, but you don't love who he is and what he stands for. I've seen you stand by his side…I've listened to his speeches…and seeing you stood there with him…I know it isn't you. You are not a woman who stands by idly unless you have to. And you have to, don't you?"
"It's…it's so complicated," Victoria confessed to her mother. And it was. It was so complicated that she didn't know how to explain it. "He wasn't like this when I first met him. It was different. Things were so different and even now…he's a good husband. He is," Victoria said and she realised that she didn't want her mum worrying about her. She didn't want her to know the truth.
"But he's not the man you want to be with, is he? He's powerful. He's much more powerful than your father ever was and I felt trapped with him. I just…I failed you as a little girl. I don't want to fail you again. If I can help then I want to."
Victoria took her turn to smile sadly. "That's the thing, mum, it's not me who needs help, not really," she assured her mother on that point. "John loves me and he loves Evie and Ryan. I just…I'm fine."
"You don't need to lie to me."
"But I do," Victoria said to her mother. "I need to lie to you because there is just so, so much that you wouldn't understand and…truth be told…it's horrible. What's going on is horrible and there really aren't any words for any of it…but I just want you to know that I'm fine. I know what I'm doing and maybe, one day, I'll explain it all, but right now I can't. I can't and I don't have the words."
Victoria looked up and saw the glaze in her mother's eyes. She was worried for her. She was concerned. But Victoria didn't want her to be. She didn't know what she wanted, but she knew that she couldn't do this. She couldn't try to tell her mother what was going on. Moving to her feet, she set her mug down next to the kettle. "I need to go," she said. "I'll sort this mess out, okay? Vought has a PR department who can liaise with the press to get them off your back. in the meantime, I can give you enough money…take a break…wait for this all to blow over."
"And you?"
"What about me?"
"I don't care what they print about me, love," Connie said. "All I care about is you…and I know this might be too little, too late, but I want…I don't want to go years without seeing you…you and Billy…my granddaughter."
Victoria looked to her mother and she could see the desperation in her face. She stood up and peered up at her daughter with longing.
"Maybe," Victoria said and she saw her mother's face etch with disappointment. "Maybe one day, mum. I'm not saying never…just that things…things need to change before we're there and it's nothing you can do. It's me, okay? I just need time. I need you to give me time."
Connie nodded profusely. "I can give you time," she promised her daughter. "I'll give you as much time as you need."
"Thank you," Victoria said gratefully and picked her coat up again, slipping it over her shoulders and tugging her arms into the sleeves.
"Can I…can I at least hug you, please?" Connie asked and Victoria just nodded once. Her mum hesitantly wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight against her front. Victoria closed her eyes at the strange feeling, trying to relax as Connie rubbed her back. "My sweet, little girl," she whispered. "I am so sorry…so sorry for everything…"
"It's alright," Victoria promised her and Victoria realised that she didn't entirely know what it felt like to hold her mother and feel content. She'd never had that before. "We'll figure something out, mum."
"I hope so, love. I really do hope so."
….
Homelander knew that he had to go to the meeting and find out what Sage knew or, more likely, didn't know. He'd hardly slept the night before after waiting up with his wife until the car came to take her to the airport. He'd woken up early and had gotten Evelyn ready to go to nursery, but he was still exhausted.
"Where's mummy?" she asked him as he brushed her hair after changing her into jeans and a sweatshirt with her small sneakers.
"Mummy has had to go away for a day," Homelander said to her. "She'll be back soon, but I'm going to take you to nursery this morning, okay?"
"Is mummy okay?"
"Mummy is fine," Homelander promised his daughter and Evelyn winced as he tugged a knot out of her hair. Homelander realised that he had never really done this. He left his wife to a lot of things. He didn't know the finer details of things. If Ryan needed a permission slip signing then he didn't know where it was. If Evelyn had lost her favourite cuddly toy, he wouldn't know where it was. In a way, he didn't know that much about his children.
"Right, let's get your teeth brushed and then we can have breakfast," he declared.
"Mummy puts my hair in ponytail," Evelyn said and Homelander exhaled a shaky breath.
Forcing himself to smile, he reached for a bobble from her dresser and pulled at her hair again.
"Ow, too tight," she complained as he gathered her hair into his hands.
"Sorry, honey," Homelander said to her.
"Mummy doesn't do it that high," Evelyn pouted and Homelander rolled his eyes.
"Mummy isn't here, Evie, so you're just going to have to have it like that," he said, voice snappier than he intended for it to be. He saw her close her mouth then and her eyes shifted downwards, bottom lip trembling. He shook his head and knelt down in front of her. He didn't want his children scared of him. He didn't want them to be upset by him. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, "Daddy didn't mean to snap. I just…I'm not mummy," he said to her. "I know I'm not."
As if she could read his emotions, she shook her head. "S'alright," she whispered to him. "Thank you, daddy."
"You're welcome. Come on…let's finish getting ready," he urged from her.
He watched her brush her teeth and only took over a couple of times when she struggled to reach her back teeth. He walked with her downstairs, carrying her to the kitchen and sitting her down on a chair. Ryan was already there with a bowl of cereal in front of him.
"Morning, champ," he greeted and headed to the fridge to start preparing Evelyn's breakfast of banana and yoghurt. "Did you sleep well?"
"Really well," Ryan said to his dad. "Is Victoria okay? She's usually first one up."
"Mummy's gone away," Evelyn answered, small hand tugging on the bobble in her hair and trying to loosen it as Homelander peeled and cut a banana.
"Mummy has had to go away for a night or so," Homelander said. "She's fine though."
Homelander shot his son a look that indicated that they would talk later and that he didn't want Evelyn hearing their conversation. He made her breakfast and watched her eat it, wiping away the mess she made on her chin before he tidied everything away. He forgot his own breakfast, figuring he would eat something later. Walking with Ryan to the nursery, he dropped his daughter off and then ambled along the corridors with his son.
"You know that Vicky did that interview?" he checked with Ryan.
"Yeah," he nodded his head.
"Well, her mum called her last night. Some not very nice people have been sending her threats and she…well…she asked if she could see Vicky so that they could talk about it," Homelander declared.
Ryan's brow furrowed. "Why did she go?" he wondered. "I thought that they were bad people?"
"Well, sometimes…we need to talk to people who we don't want to," Homelander said. "And it's complicated for Victoria because it's her mum and she's family. You know how complicated family can be, right?"
"I guess," Ryan said with a shrug, not entirely sure he did know.
"And I know that when she comes back she might need our support, alright? Victoria isn't as strong as she makes out. There are times when she struggles with things and I know that. She…she will just us need us here because seeing her family will be tough," Homelander said and he slapped a hand on Ryan's shoulder. "But we can be there for her, can't we, buddy?" he double-checked with him and Ryan nodded eagerly. He knew that they could be and they would be.
"Yeah," he confirmed. "And dad…Ashley told me about some TV show and I-"
"-Oh yeah, the one with the puppets for kids," Homelander interrupted. He didn't really have time to get into that. "Listen, I know that you might not want to do it and I get that. If you don't want to then you don't have to, but it would really make life a lot easier if you did, alright?"
"Just that it's live and I don't know what they want me to do," Ryan said.
"They'll ask you to read from a script so it'll be easy. I'll approve the script…and there will be people there working with you to make sure it goes alright," Homelander assured his son. "I know it's a big ask, buddy, but I'm really busy with work right now and Vicky…she's going to need us to be there for her and I don't want to stress her out."
Ryan nodded then. He didn't want to cause Victoria to stress either. And so he just nodded his head and told his dad that he'd go along with it. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing, but he just wanted to make his dad proud of him, just like he did his mom.
…
Standing outside the hospital, Victoria almost found it ironic that there was a man in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank smoking a cigar. She stood by the red brick wall as people came in and out of the main entrance. Some were on crutches, others with their arms in casts. There were people crying and others laughing. Victoria guessed that a hospital must be one place where you really did go through a range of emotions.
She'd never been a smoker, but a part of her wondered if it might calm her nerves. Picking her phone out of her pocket, she leant against the wall and dialled the number.
"You alright?" the gruff voice answered.
"I don't know if I'm about to make a big mistake," Victoria confessed. She had her duffle bag down on the floor by her side. Her red coat was buttoned up to her chin and her gloves were in her pockets.
"Where are you?"
"If I tell you I'm in Clapham would that narrow things down?"
Billy paused for a few brief moments at that. He shook his head slowly as he came to a realisation as to where she was.
"Mum's?" he asked her.
"Well, mum isn't with him anymore," Victoria said. "She's left him…for good this time, I think. She's holed up in some hotel because she's been receiving threats after my interview. I never thought that would happen. I didn't think any of this would happen."
"So you flew out there?" Billy checked and she heard him shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Why?"
"She asked me to," Victoria said. "She said that she wanted to see me and so I told her that I'd go to her. I…I think she wants to form some kind of relationship, but I don't know if it's too late for that, Billy. Besides, my life is fucked up enough. I don't want to drag her into any of that."
"Is she alright?" Billy questioned.
"I think she will be," Victoria replied. "I'm going to help her lay low until all of this blows over."
"I should give her a call, shouldn't I?" Billy muttered and he ran a hand down his chin, scratching his beard. "You didn't tell her about me, did you?"
"I figured it wasn't my place," Victoria said. "She…I think she guessed that things weren't entirely harmonious. She asked why I was still with Homelander and she guessed it was because I felt trapped. I mean, she wasn't wrong, but I couldn't tell her anything else. I couldn't exactly tell her about Becca…what Homelander had done to her…I just…I just left. I didn't want to tell her."
"Can fucking understand that," Billy said. "So where are you now? If you've been to see mum then you're done, right?"
There was a silence that stretched between them and Victoria heard Billy groan.
"That crusty old cunt?"
"I'm stood outside the hospital. Apparently, he was beat up," Victoria said.
"Good."
"And I…I wasn't going to come here…but I just…I don't know why," Victoria confessed to her brother. "I don't know what I'm hoping to get out of this. I don't know and it scares me. I know he has no power over me anymore, but seeing him…the thought scares me and you're the only one who gets it. You're the only one who understands."
"I know," Billy agreed with her on that point. "But if you're going in there looking for closure then you ain't going to get it and you know that, Vic. You know he's never going to apologise. He's never going to admit that he fucked us up, love."
"Maybe it's not about him," Victoria mused. "Maybe I need to do this for me."
"You do what you need to, but just know that he ain't worth anything, alright?" Billy said. "And you…you're not like him. Everything you are is down to you, not him."
"Thanks, Billy," Victoria said. "I love you, you know?"
"You're a soppy one, you know that?"
"I know, but you love me too."
"Got that right, sis," Billy confirmed. "Just call me when you can, alright?"
"Will do," Victoria said and she hung up the phone before dropping it into her pocket. Moving to pick her bag up, she headed into the hospital and went to the front desk. She gave the surname of her father and the woman looked up at her with a knowing expression. She knew who she was. She didn't say anything. She just told Victoria to follow the signs to ward twenty-five.
Victoria did as she was told, the smell of sterile cleaning products entering her nostrils. She heard the heels of her boots click against the tiled floor as she approached the ward. Looking down the rows of beds, Victoria saw him in the end one by the window. While other people had visitors around them, bedside tables filled with their own foods and cards, there was nothing for her father.
He was sat up in bed, newspaper open on his lap. He wore a long-sleeved grey tee and sweats, hair slicked back. He had an oxygen mask next to him and Victoria assumed that was because of the cancer and not because he'd been beaten up. Victoria wasn't sure how she made her feet move towards the bed, but she did. She carried herself confidently, head held high as she approached. Standing at the end of it, she dropped her bag to the floor. Sam finally looked up and over to her.
"Dad," she said.
"Victoria," he responded, greeting her with shock.
Moving to sit down in the high-back chair, Victoria spotted a Christmas tree in the corner of the room that was sparingly decorated with tinsel and baubles. She looked anywhere but at her father.
"I didn't expect you to come."
"I didn't think I would," Victoria replied. "Mum told me you were in hospital."
"You've been to see your mother?" he checked with her.
"Earlier today," Victoria said. "She told me what had happened…the death threats…"
"Well, what did you expect?" Sam sniped at her and Victoria finally looked at him and she felt her stomach churn. "You went on national TV and called us incompetent parents. What did you think would happen to us? You basically sent the mob our way."
"I didn't mean for that to happen," Victoria defended herself. "I never thought that people would react like they did, but you forced my hand. If you hadn't have been mouthing off down the pub with your mates then I wouldn't have had to do that."
Sam scoffed. "You didn't have to do it anyway," he said to her.
"Yes, I did," Victoria snapped back, trying to keep her voice down. "I had to do it because I was sick and tired of people saying things about me that weren't true. I was sick of the lies."
"And now people are lying about me and your mother. Did you ever think about that, Victoria? Did you ever think about what that might mean for us? Or did you not give a shit? Was that it?"
Victoria arched her brow. "You want to talk about not giving a shit? Really?" she questioned from her father and he had the decency to look down then, almost like he was ashamed. Victoria continued glaring at him. "You just needed to keep quiet. Why could you not do that? I had to go on TV and tell everyone what happened to me to stop them from lying…and Ryan…I had to tell my step-son what happened. And then one day I'm going to have to tell my daughter. I'm going to have to tell Evie so that she doesn't hear it from some kids in the playground."
Sam sniffed and Victoria sensed he was struggling for words. "I take it I'm not going to meet my granddaughter?"
"You think I'd let you anywhere near her?" Victoria demanded. "Besides, my husband would never allow it."
"Great man that husband of yours," Sam said, a bitter tone to his voice as he thought about the burn marks on his arm and how his fingers were taped up. His ribs were bruised and his eye was black, but that was from some men down the pub who had ended up telling him he wasn't welcome there when Victoria had done her interview. "You really did make something of yourself, Victoria."
"Even though I wasn't clever enough to be at the UN? Isn't that what you told your mates?"
"I told them what I had to," Sam said. "I told them the truth. You always thought you were better than me, but we know that's not true. You might speak with a different accent…wear fancy clothes…but you're still a Butcher."
"I am nothing like you," Victoria spat at him.
"Then why do you stay with a man who loves violence?" he wondered from her and Victoria realised she couldn't answer that question because she didn't know how to. She bit down on the inside of her cheek and tried to maintain her composure. "There's a dark side inside of you and we both know it. You're no Mother Theresa, despite what you think…trying to do good…trying to look like a saint…that's not you."
"I never claim to be," Victoria said back to him and crossed her legs. "And I'm with my husband because I love him."
"And you don't see the parallels between him and me? You have daddy issues, Victoria."
"He's nothing like you," Victoria snarled. She wanted to say how he was ten times worse in some ways. "He loves his children. He would never lay a finger on them or hurt them. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you? Because you…you were never capable of loving us."
"I made you strong. I made you the woman you are today."
"You seriously think that?" Victoria asked.
"Look how fucking tough you are," Sam sniped and his breathing became laboured, but he didn't stop. "You climbed your way to the fucking top. You're one of the most powerful women in America and you know it…being married to him…you know the power you command and you're only there because he fucking chose you. He chose you because of who you are…because you're a fucking Butcher."
Victoria shook her head firmly. "He didn't choose me," Victoria defended. "You have no idea how we even got together. You think he wanted to date me? Our entire relationship was a PR exercise. We were supposed to date for six months to boost his poll ratings and then split up, but he fell in love with me and I fell in love with him. He didn't pick me. He didn't swoop down from the sky and save me."
Sam was quiet then and Victoria sat back in the chair, cheeks tinting red as she observed her father pick up his oxygen mask and inhale deep breaths.
"I really don't know why I came here," Victoria confessed to him. "I didn't come here to clear the air. I didn't come here to tell you that I want to put what happened behind us…because I don't. You might be dying, but that doesn't mean I want to make amends with you."
"Then what do you really want?" Sam questioned her. "You want to go over what happened in the past again?"
"No," Victoria said. "I don't want to do that because I know that you'll never apologise. You'll never say sorry for what you did to Billy, Lenny and me as children. You'll never say sorry for letting Eddie into our lives…for what he did to me…"
"You've got no idea what it's like, do you? We couldn't afford that flat. We could barely make rent and your mother was working two jobs…the benefits weren't enough…and we had nowhere else to go. You were sixteen. You were old enough and you'd sit there and flirt with him. You know you would," Sam said.
"I would make conversation," Victoria said. "I made conversation with him because I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be polite so that you didn't come into my room when he went and hit me for being rude. I…you really think that makes it any better? You think he was okay to do what he did because I was nice to him? Because you think I flirted with him?"
Sam looked to the ceiling then and Victoria swore she was on the verge of tears.
"You have no idea what it's like, do you? To lay in bed at night and be so scared to go to sleep…praying that the door didn't open…I tried not to make any noise in the hope he'd never come in," Victoria said. "I was in the middle of my geography homework the first time he came in and told me to get on my knees…told me that I'd enjoy it and that I was his good girl…told me to suck his cock."
"Don't," Sam urged from his daughter.
"What? Is it too much? To know what he did to me? You never came to the trial. You never heard what happened…how I'd been reading Jane Eyre when he came in and took my virginity…raped me…left me in that bed crying…how I had to wash the sheets quietly…scrubbed for hours until the stains came out."
Victoria stood up then. She rubbed her eyes, not willing to let him see her cry. "And you think that made me stronger? You think that you made me stronger? You didn't. You and him nearly fucking broke me, but I put the pieces back together. I made something of myself. I worked for the UN. I'm a fucking doctor," Victoria snapped at him. "I am who I am because of me and me alone and you are just a sad old man whose family despises him…and you're going to die alone…with nothing to show for your life…and I pity you. I feel sorry for you because you're worthless. No one will mourn you when you're gone."
Grabbing her bag, Victoria started to walk away, but her father had to have the final say.
"You think you're not broken?" he asked her. "You're damaged goods, Victoria. You married the first man who showed you any sign of affection. You married him because you thought it would fix you…make you whole…but it can't. Nothing can make you whole."
"Maybe not," Victoria concurred with him for a brief moment on that point. "But at least I have people who love me."
She stormed off then, not looking back once and knowing that would be the final time she saw her father.
…
Homelander had text Victoria and told her that he'd booked a hotel for her that night after she mentioned in a passing message that she might not make an evening flight home. He'd given her the hotel address and reservation number via email. Well, Ashley's assistant had sent it. Victoria had taken a taxi to the central London postcode and had been in awe when she realised that he'd booked one of the fanciest hotels that overlooked the Thames. There was a doorman waiting to open the taxi door and take Victoria's bag for her. She checked in quickly and was given one of the penthouse rooms with a view of the River and the London Eye.
The hotel was old fashioned and decorated with expensive portraits, chandeliers and furniture. The bell boy carried Victoria's bag to her room for her, unlocking the door and opening it for her to step in. She insisted she could take her bag from there and she thanked him before closing the door behind her and locking it. Stepping through the small reception hall, Victoria moved to the bedroom and saw that the balcony doors were open.
Homelander was stood in front of them, dressed in his usual supe suit and looking at her as though he'd been expecting her. Victoria shrugged out of her coat, mouth gaping. "Where's the kids?"
"Natalie is looking after them and I can be back in a flash," he said to her. "But I got the feeling that you…something felt off in your text…" he said to her and then he saw her begin to cry.
He rushed towards her and she didn't even hold back as she reached for him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he took hold of her waist, holding her tightly as she sobbed loudly against his front. Everything came out then. Everything she'd been feeling and holding in since she'd seen her parents just came out and she didn't know how to stop. She felt an arm wrap around her waist and his hand moved to cup the back of her head.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered down to her. "I've got you."
He waited patiently for her to calm down, her tears slowly drying up and her breaths coming out in shorter pants before she pulled her face away from where she'd had it buried against his suit. She trailed a finger over it. "I've made a mess," she said, looking at the dark blue patch.
"It'll dry," he simply assured her. "Come on…tell me what happened."
"I don't even know," Victoria confessed to him and he guided her to sit down on the sofa. She took a seat and he sat next to her, hand staying on the small of her back. "I went to see my mum and that…that went better than I thought. I told her that I could help her, but she had to lay low. She seemed to want a relationship with me, but I told her that I wasn't sure if I could give her that just yet. There's just too much that's happened and if she wants to be a part of my life then it needs to be slow. I can't rush into things."
"Okay," Homelander said, not entirely comfortable with that idea.
"But then I went to see my dad," Victoria said. "I'm not sure why I went because it wasn't as if I could get closure from him, is it? I just heard what I thought I would hear and I…I just couldn't cry in front of him. I wasn't going to let him see me cry and I told him that I was stronger than he thought…that I'd gotten out…I was where I was because of me and not him."
"And that's all true, sweetheart."
"And I know that," Victoria said to her husband. "I know that he doesn't deserve any sympathy from me…and he doesn't have any…but that doesn't explain why I looked at him and a small part of me wondered why? Why couldn't he have loved his kids? Why couldn't he have just tried to love us? And why…why did he let Eddie hurt me? Why was I not enough? And I hate myself for even thinking it, but it's like there's a part of me…a small part of me that's still that little girl longing for her parent's love. And I hate myself for it, John. I hate that I feel this way…that I cry over something that's long gone…"
The tears started again and he reached for his wife, bringing her to him and holding her tight as she clung to him. He pressed his nose against her hairline and kissed her forehead. "I'm here, sweetheart," he assured her. "I'm here."
…
He spent the rest of the evening looking after her. Victoria had phoned Natalie and spoken with Ryan and Evelyn to make sure they were okay. She'd stood under the shower as Homelander washed her hair, massaging her scalp and not even trying anything on. Instead, he'd just wrapped her up in a towel and told her that he'd order dinner for the room. She'd dried herself off and pulled a white, fluffy robe onto her frame before going to the bedroom. Her eyes were still red, cheeks puffy and voice hoarse. Homelander was sat outside on the seat on the balcony, dressed in a blue tee and jeans. Victoria wondered why he'd foregone his supe suit, but she didn't question it.
"Aren't you cold?" she wondered from him.
"I don't feel the cold like you do," he reminded her. "Come here."
He held his hand out and Victoria stepped to him. She curled up in his lap, legs bent and feet resting on the spare space on the seat, knees bent and resting against his chest as he held one of her kneecaps in his grip that was uncovered by the white robe. His other arm went around her waist and he let her rest her head on his shoulder.
"You didn't need to come out here," Victoria said to him, a hand moving back and forth along his forearm.
"I did," he replied to her. "Fuck what's happening in Vought for the day. It doesn't mean anything compared to you being upset."
Victoria once again wondered how this man in front of her could be the same man who had hurt countless people. She hated herself even more for clinging to him and letting him comfort her.
"What is happening anyway?"
"Well, I was supposed to meet Sage this morning and tell her about the leak, but I cancelled on that and came out here," he said. "If the leak is Webweaver then Sage clearly isn't as clever as I give her credit for."
"I wouldn't be sure of that," Victoria said to her husband, closing her eyes for a brief second as his thumb roamed the skin against her kneecap and she kept stroking his arm. "Have you ever thought that she might be using a leak? Using someone to leak information that she wants leaked?"
"Then why would she not tell me?" Homelander questioned.
Victoria shrugged against him. "You know that I say this because I love you, right?" she checked with her husband and his brow furrowed, hand tugging her robe over her knee as he saw goosebumps on her skin.
"Am I going to like this?" he wondered, lifting his fingers to brush her damp hair behind her ear.
"Probably not," Victoria said. "But I am trying to help you here. You have a tendency to act before you think at times…and I know it's impulsive…but there are times when maybe it's best not to do anything. I think this might be one of those times. You killed Cameron Coleman. You will probably kill Webweaver if he is the leak. Sage is maybe using someone for your own gain…feeding them information she wants to but keeping it from you because she's scared about how you might react."
Homelander considered what Victoria was saying to him for a moment. She knew he'd killed Coleman. She had no idea he'd killed Annika from Crime Analytics. Chances were that he'd kill Webweaver too.
"She shouldn't keep things from me," Homelander said. "Even if I might sometimes be…impulsive," he settled on using that word, "the fact is that I am still the Leader of The Seven. She's here because I brought her here. If she has some grand, fucking plan then she should share it with me."
Victoria wanted to snipe back. "Just like you've shared it with me?" but she didn't. And it wasn't like she was being totally honest with him. Then again, she knew what her honesty would do. It would get A-Train killed and she wasn't going to live with that on her shoulders.
"Just talk to her," Victoria said to her husband. She was too tired for this conversation. She was still jet-lagged and hadn't slept in almost forty-eight hours. "But whatever is going on…be careful…no one else needs to get hurt, John. Things don't need to be this way…you don't need to do anything," she said and she wasn't sure it was going in. Instead, he just kissed her forehead.
"I'll be fine," he promised her.
She knew he would be. It was everyone else she was worried for.
"And you…I know that you parents abandoned you. I know what that's like. I know what it's like to crave their love and have a part of you feel missing, but that part of you…just remember that you have a daughter and a son who think the world of you. You have me," Homelander said to her. "And if I could love you enough to make that part of you heal then I would."
Picking her head up, Victoria looked to him and he caressed her cheek. "You mean that?"
"I would do anything to show you how much I adore you and love you," Homelander said to her. "Never doubt that, sweetheart…never." And then he bent down and kissed her sweetly for a moment before she laid her head back down against him and they lapsed into silence, both of them not entirely knowing what more they could say to each other.
...
A/N: A long family chapter before we return to Vought very soon! As always, love to know your thoughts!