When I thought, 'what's the worst that another shot could do, kill me?' I wasn't issuing a challenge. Just in case ANYONE might have been listening in, supe or deity, because quite frankly I was fucking tired of waking up with a feeding tube and IV fluids after another attempted run in with the grim reaper.
A2, since we had a theme and we're sticking to it, was another small vial of seemingly innocuous fluid. Yeah, made that mistake once, wouldn't be doing a repeat. I eyed it with the same distrust that Billy did, but I was resigned to another trial. I wanted to be rid of Homelander's shit inside of me ticking and waiting to go off like the world's worst bomb, and honestly, a small part of me was freaking out about the possibility of getting some of the asshole's creepier traits. Did I want to even CONSIDER getting a craving for breast milk?
The doctor went over the same explanations, the same warnings, and the same spiel. I had to tell them if I felt ANY changes, good or bad, and immediately. Since the last time was so fucking serious, I would be given the dosage in my bed near the dialysis machine and the rest of the paraphernalia that might become necessary if the worst case happened.
Billy was right beside me, his arm around my shoulders, his lips on my temple and I could feel his tension as heavily as I felt anything else. "It'll be fine," I promised him and he breathed my scent in before kissing my head. "And if it isn't, we're ready."
It wasn't perfect, nothing would be on the first try, BUT I didn't end up with a feeding tube, IV, or unconscious. There wasn't an internal explosion of my veins or arteries, but I had the burning feeling start deep inside my abdomen, which caused more testing. And more tweaking of the formula.
Days of a little of this, a pinch of that, and there were a few screaming freak outs when the steaming would hit me again. Or, God help us all, when I got the nosebleed to end all nosebleeds, if you heard Billy tell the tale. There was pain and upheaval. I still spent time on dialysis. I had moments of pure irritation where I was bedridden from the exhaustion that came from the tension and the ringer that my body was being put through to figure out the puzzle that Homelander designed with Vought's backup.
It was bound to happen though, like Billy and Mallory predicted. Like my parents assured me. Like everyone kept saying would finally come to pass, I would beat it. And it did, without much fanfare. One day the tests simply showed that my blood was MY blood. No little invaders, no extra bits of whatever or whomever. Just Veronica Taylor.
I wish I could say that learning I was 100% me made me euphoric or feeling like I'd won the war, lottery, and gotten a miracle from God himself, but honestly? I was just tired. Tired and still feeling like I was missing something, or like there was some other piece that would hit us hard and fast when I wasn't prepared. Maybe that's what happens when you spend months fighting for control of your own body. Or maybe it's what happens when you win without a bang, when it happens more like a shrug.
"Ronnie?" Billy came up behind me as I stood looking out the window at the bland landscape of the facility we were still ensconced in, since we had to decide what the next steps were for us where Homelander and Vought were concerned. "Why do you look so glum?"
He pressed against my back, the heat from him and his strength causing my eyes to flutter closed. His arms went around me as naturally as if he'd been made for me and his chin propped on top of my head. "I don't know," I leaned back into him, smiling as he tightened his grip, hugging me tighter. "It just seems so-" I sighed and he chuckled.
"Too easy for you, Doc?" I could see him in the reflection in the window and knew he wasn't taking my unease as his laughter would make it seem. "Seems like it should have came with a bit of a bigger oomph, don't it?"
I shrugged, wondering if we were growing paranoid from our interactions with Vought and Homelander, not to mention the search for a supe who could kill at a distance without leaving a trace behind of themselves. "I just feel like we're still missing something," I bit my lip when his fingers slid up my arms, turning me to face him. "Are you trying to distract me, Mr. Butcher?"
"Depends," his eyes were twinkling and his laugh lines were deep as he lowered his face to mine. "Is it working?"
Then his lips met mine and for a while at least, I chose getting lost in Billy Butcher instead of courting the disaster that I knew must be hiding just out of earshot or visibility. We earned it, I justified to myself, as I was pulling his clothes free from his body and he worked to bare me to his touch. After all the ups and mostly downs that we'd been dealt, we earned every single moment that we could steal alone, naked, and locked in our own bubble. Ignoring the world, the lab, the building, and the people who were filling space just out of sight, to focus on one another. Trouble would come, it always seemed to, but as Billy's eyes met mine while we were tangled together, as long as we could find one another and time for this, we could conquer anything