Victoria knew that she shouldn't make contact with Billy. She would be considered an accomplice if she did. If she tipped him off then technically she was aiding and abetting a felon. She'd already had a close call after meeting Starlight and Hughie. She didn't know if she could do it again. She acted brave, but she was still scared. She was still scared of going to jail. She was scared of being taken from her daughter. But she also didn't want to see her brother locked up. Then again, would that even happen? Whatever was inside of Billy was more powerful than she could even imagine. It had almost killed Homelander. Would it really be able to be controlled?

But then she thought about the virus her brother had. He needed to be stopped and she did know that. She knew that what he had was too dangerous to be released into the world. He should be stopped at any cost. But the fact was that he was still her brother. He was still blood.

She picked her phone up and unlocked it. She headed up the steps towards her bedroom as she pressed his name and waited for him to pick up. She shut the door to the room and listened to the dialling tone. Sitting on the end of the bed, she wasn't entirely sure if he was going to answer. A part of her suspected he might be busy.

"Vicky," he greeted her.

"You know that whoever you send after him, it could be a blood bath, right?" Victoria spoke, foregoing any greetings. She crossed her legs and leant forwards, elbow on her kneecap and arms folded. "He almost killed you, John. He was so close to killing you and you're the most powerful supe on earth. If you send people after him then surely you're just sentencing them to death."

"Then what do you suggest I do?" Homelander questioned his wife.

He'd returned to the penthouse after checking in with Crime Analytics where his son was. Ryan was still staying away and Homelander knew that his son just needed time before he came back. That was what he kept telling himself anyway. He wasn't sure if he was deluding himself, but he didn't really care.

He was sat on the end of his bed in the penthouse, legs spread in front of him, sat bolt right up.

"I don't know," Victoria admitted to him on that point. "I don't know what you do, John, but Billy…I just…I just don't know if going in heavy handed is the right thing to do. Look, I know he's lost. I can see that, but that doesn't mean that I don't have hope that maybe, somewhere deep inside of him, he can be reasoned with."

"Vicky, sweetheart, I know that you want to think the best of him because he's your brother," Homelander assured his wife. "But I don't think you can save him and he needs to be stopped. He has a virus that would kill superheroes. It would kill me…Ryan…our daughter."

"I know," Victoria said and she closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep her emotions in check. She knew that she could cry if she wanted to. A part of her did want to sob and let it all out. There were times when everything felt as though it was getting on top of her and she didn't know how to handle it and so she cried. She let it out. "I just…it's such a fucking mess, John. Why did he have to do it? Why did he have to do this?"

"I don't know," Homelander said. "All I know is that we're going to stop him at whatever cost. And I know you don't want to hear that. I know you want me to be lenient, but if he doesn't come quietly then he has to suffer the consequences."

"And so does anyone who goes after him," Victoria whispered.

"And the alternative? We let him go on this rampage he wants to go on? No," Homelander said on that point. "We can't let him do that and you know we can't."

She was quiet then because she did know it. She knew that she couldn't stop them from going after Billy and a part of her didn't want to stop them. She wanted this to be over and a part of her suspected that it would only be over when Billy was caught and the virus destroyed. Then again, who was to say that the virus couldn't be recreated? She guessed that it could be, but she hoped that no one would want to do that.

"You can't reason with him, Vicky," Homelander said in a softer voice and Victoria felt her hand shaking as she gripped the phone. "You've tried reasoning with him and it didn't work."

"I know," she agreed with him. And she did know. "Just…if he does surrender…don't kill him. Please."

"Vic, sweetheart, we both know that's not likely-"

"-John, I'm begging you," Victoria pleaded with him, her voice almost breaking.

Homelander scrunched his eyes shut and felt his jaw tightening. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't do it. He wasn't going to humour her or keep her brother safe. But he was never going to do that. He knew that lying to her was better than telling her the truth.

"I'll see what I can do, Vic," was all he could say to her.

"Thank you," Victoria said, tone grateful and Homelander felt an ache in his chest at the thought of his wife suffering. They might be separated, but he knew that was just an act. What they had was so much more than anything that could be broken by living separately. He just had to bide his time before she was ready to come back to him. He didn't know how long it would take, but he had learned how to be patient when it came to Victoria.

"Yeah," was all he could manage back to her.

"I've got to go," she said. "I'll talk to you later."

"Night, Vicky."

"Goodnight, John."

Homelander let her hang up and he locked his phone, tossing it off to the side. He flopped onto his back, legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He laced his fingers together on his stomach, struggling to clear his mind. He guessed that he couldn't be getting much sleep. He knew that if they killed William Butcher then he was in the clear. He knew that Starlight was still out there, but he really didn't see her as much of a threat. Her powers were nothing compared to his. He just regretted not killing her sooner when he had a chance.

Moving to his feet, he tossed his gloves off to the side and thought about getting ready for bed. Standing in front of the mirror, he looked at his reflection and frowned. He noticed the wrinkles on his forehead deepening. He also needed his roots touched up as well. He really was ageing and he didn't particularly like it.

Instead of going to bed, he found himself heading downstairs and stepping onto the balcony. He took off into the air without a second thought, flying across the city until he landed on the balcony of the familiar townhouse. Her bedroom was bathed in darkness, but he knew that she was still awake. He pushed down on the handle and the door opened without resistance. She hadn't locked it. Did she know he'd come? Did she want him to come? Slipping into the bedroom, he closed the door behind him when he heard her shift on the bed.

He didn't say anything. He just moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it. He undressed without a word and pulled the quilt back. Climbing into the bed, he wrapped an arm around her waist as she rolled over to face him. She'd been crying. Even in the darkness he could tell. He kissed her forehead and felt her nestle her face against his neck. He managed to get both arms around her, holding her tightly and running a hand up and down her back.

"It's alright, sweetheart," he promised her. "It's all going to be alright."

…

It turned out that William Butcher was nowhere to be seen the following morning. The location they had for him had been accurate, but it was somewhat outdated. He was moving like a shadow, much to Homelander's annoyance. He'd left early that morning, prepared to deal with Butcher, but it hadn't worked out. He'd phoned his wife and told her that her brother had escaped. He knew that she hadn't had anything to do with it. She hadn't made any calls to him and he'd been with her all night.

Victoria, for the most part, was feeling guilty for feeling any semblance of relief that her brother was still alive and out there. She wouldn't say that she had been chipper, but she couldn't pretend to be as disappointed as Homelander had been. She'd gone down to breakfast and ate with Natalie and Evelyn, the three of them making pancakes. Evelyn squealed with delight as her mother flipped them in the pan.

It was a rare day off that Victoria had from campaigning and she couldn't help but feel some happiness at that. The last few weeks had been a whirlwind of interviews, debates and rallies. She'd flown across the country so many times, doing whistlestop tours of cities and trying to raise as much money as possible to bring about a judicial review and figure out how to get The Boys freed. The latter one was proving to be the most difficult. She knew that her husband had let Alex go, but she doubted he'd be so lenient with the others.

Ever since he'd gone free, Victoria had no idea where he was. He hadn't made contact and she hadn't tried to reach out to him. The last time she'd seen him had been in the prison and he'd made his feelings for her quite clear. She couldn't blame him for how he felt. Everything he'd said had been correct.

After breakfast, Victoria took Evelyn upstairs and got her changed for the day after promising her that they could play in the playroom for a while. She was true to her word, spending quality time with her daughter and being amazed by her imagination as they made a mess in the playroom. After lunch, however, Victoria watched as one of her security detail came into the room.

"Daniella is at the door for you," he said.

Victoria frowned, but nodded. They weren't due to be working today. She had thought that Daniella was spending time with Georgina. The two of them were in the middle of wedding planning, but Victoria got a feeling that Daniella's mind wasn't entirely on weddings as opposed to fighting against the martial law.

Asking if Natalie could watch Evelyn for a while, Victoria headed downstairs to the hallway where Daniella was waiting for her, face like thunder. Victoria frowned at the sight of her, slowing her pace as she took the last two steps. "What is it?" she wondered from her friend.

"Are you sleeping with him again?"

"What?" Victoria asked, blinking rapidly.

"Don't play dumb with me, Vic. Are you sleeping with him?"

Victoria looked to the door where two of her security detail were stationed. They had the decency to look away from the two women. Victoria stepped towards Daniella. "Not here," she hissed.

She headed into the sitting room that was still in the process of being decorated. There were two beige sofas and a wooden coffee table in there with cardboard boxes stacked against the wall. The window looked out over the quiet leafy street, curtains open and rain hitting the panes. Victoria closed the door and dropped her hands to her hips.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded from her friend.

"I popped round to ask if you wanted dinner with me and Gi tonight, but then I heard the security guards talking about what they'd seen on the CCTV…him landing on your balcony in the dead of the night and then leaving this morning. You should be glad I made them sign confidentiality contracts so they don't tell anyone about this," Daniella snapped at her, arms folded over her chest and annoyance clear on her face. "But is that what's going on? You're still sleeping with him?"

"No," Victoria said. "I'm not sleeping with him. He…last night he came here because he thought that they'd found Billy and they were preparing to try and bring him into custody. He came here to tell me that and he just stayed the night."

Daniella scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You expect me to believe he stayed the night and you didn't do anything?" she demanded from her friend. "You've admitted before that you've fucked him."

"That was in the past," Victoria said. "This is different. I just…I don't know, Daniella. I don't know how to feel or what to think the majority of the time. My brother could've been taken from me this morning and a part of me was relieved because that would've meant the virus would've been destroyed…but then I feel guilty for feeling like that, but then I feel guilty for feeling relieved that Billy is alive when I know what he could do to supes…what he could do to my daughter."

Victoria felt her voice beginning to rise as she flapped her arms by her side. She began pacing up and down the sitting room. "And it's all so fucked up. My brother would see my stepson and daughter dead if he releases that virus, but he's still my brother. He's still the brother who tried to protect me from our father…who I grew up with…and I want him back. I want my brother and I keep hoping that he's still in there, but I don't know if he is. And John…he knows all of this. He knows me better than I know myself and I hate that. I hate it, but he does."

Daniella felt her expression soften to some extent, but she was still not entirely sure what she made of the outburst she was listening to. "I know that it's difficult, Vic," she promised her friend on that point. "I get that, but it doesn't mean that you have to go crawling back to him. He's not the only one who is here for you."

"I know," Victoria agreed. "And I didn't ask him to come here last night. He just came. It's like some weird sixth sense he has. He knows me and he knows when I'm at a low point and when I'm there…he…he's like this weird comfort to me. I know it's wrong, but at the time it just feels right, Dani. I don't know. I can't explain it."

"You don't need to explain it. You just need to be careful because you can't go back to him."

"Whatever happens between us, I'm not going back to him," Victoria said confidently on that point, but Daniella wasn't entirely certain. "I'm dedicated to what we're doing, Daniella. I'm not going to turn my back on our work."

"You sure about that?"

"Positive," Victoria confirmed for her. "I know what's right, Dani, and it isn't what he's doing. There's just things between us that are personal and I don't want them to get in the way of what's going on."

"You think you can separate your work and personal life? Vic, they both intertwine because he's a part of both," Daniella said. "And you know who he is, right? You know he's a murdering sociopathic monster who is no different to Eddie. Deep down, you know that."

"I know," Victoria said. And she did know that. She knew it and it made her feel sick that she still had feelings for him. "I don't need you to remind me of who he is, Daniella. I know all too well who he is, but I don't want to do this, alright? I don't want to have to talk about him or us. Please. I know you're my friend and I know you think I might ruin things, but I'm not going to. I'm determined to stop him just like you are."

"You better be because we both know that you're the only one who might be able to."

…

Homelander was sat in the meeting room, listening as Sage and Firecracker bickered between each other. Deep and Noir were also in the room and Homelander noticed the way Noir could hardly look away from Sage. He wondered if maybe there was something going on there.

"Now, Victoria has been doing especially well with the twenty-five to thirty-five demographic," Sage declared and Homelander moved to his feet, hands going behind his back. He began pacing, cape flowing out behind him. "She's particularly doing well with the college educated and females as well."

"Liberal elite," Firecracker mumbled under her breath.

"Now, there's ways we can try and get some of those back on our side, but it's going to be a lot of work," Sage admitted to Homelander. "And we should actually count ourselves lucky that your wife is British which means she'll never be able to stand for a political position. I imagine if she was American then they'd be calling for her as the new President."

"She'd despise that," Homelander said, imagining his wife's face and his lips arching. She'd look horrified and then she'd just laugh it off. He chuckled to himself before glancing back to the screen which showed Victoria at another rally, but this time she was in New York. She was wearing her double-breasted blue coat with the brass buttons and her hair fell elegantly down her shoulders as she held the microphone in her right hand.

"So what's the plan?" Deep wondered from Sage, tone slightly agitated.

Homelander wondered what his problem was, but he had more pressing things on his plate than Deep being in a mood.

"Well, we need the people to understand that they have nothing to fear. They need to see that what we're doing isn't a ploy to take over the world and everything like that," Sage said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "What they need to understand is that they need us. We need them to see supes as their saviours. We need to stop being heavy handed all of the time. That is where Victoria is gaining points because some of the supes we have on patrol aren't being policed. They're killing people and getting away with it. We can't really let that happen because it feeds into the narrative of fear. That's what she's thriving off of."

"People should fear us," Firecracker spoke up. "People should be scared of what we can do. We're the ones with the power here."

"You can't even click a sparkler out of those fingers of yours," Sage said. "I don't think you should talk about being feared."

Firecracker glared at her, less than impressed with the comment. She adjusted herself in her seat, chin jutting out as she prepared to snap back. She didn't however. She just sat there silently, glaring at Sage. Firecracker was well aware that Homelander didn't like it when they argued. She could sense the annoyance from him whenever he let out a deep sigh at the two of them bickering.

"Firecracker has a point," Deep spoke up and Homelander glanced between the members of his team. "Why shouldn't they be scared of us? We are superior."

"Yeah, and if we laud that over them all of the time then we're not going to win," Sage said. "What we need is some subtlety. With a soft approach then before they know it, they're under our thumb and thanking us for it."

"Sage is right," Homelander declared, thinking about his wife with that comment. A soft approach had always worked on her. Why would it not work on other things? Homelander had to admit that it wasn't his usual way of operating, but he guessed that it was whatever was going to work in the long run. "If we're going to get the best of my wife then we need to do it that way. We need to take her supporters away. If that means faking a smile and some kind words then we can do it. Short-term pain for long-term gain."

He noticed that no one looked particularly thrilled at that piece of information. They all seemed quite hesitant, but he didn't care what they thought. He was the leader. He was the one in charge now. He stood looking out of the window, hands behind his back and eyes darting around the skyline in front of him. He exhaled a sharp breath and Homelander knew that there was no chance that he was going to let go of the power he currently held. He was effectively running the country and he loved it. He loved knowing that he was the one people answered to.

Barely registering what Sage was saying, it took him a moment before Homelander realised that his phone was vibrating on the table. It was becoming dark outside, the evening beginning to settle in over the city. He turned on his heel and peered down at his phone. It was Victoria calling him.

"I need the room," he demanded, interrupting Sage. She looked put out, but he just waved his hand dismissively and they all filed out of the room without argument. He answered the call as he hit the button to close the doors on them. Pressing the cell to his ear, he placed a hand on his hip and turned to look back out of the window.

"Vicky."

"John…I…I don't know what to do…please…"

Homelander instantly stood up straighter, any cockiness he had felt at her calling him leaving his body. His grip on the phone increased at her panicked tone and he let his eyes flitter across the skyline, using his x-ray vision as if he could see her somewhere below the Tower.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" he asked, voice full of concern.

"I didn't mean to," she sobbed down the phone to him. "I didn't mean to and I didn't know who to call…I didn't know what to do…it was an accident…please…"

"Victoria," he said her name in the hope that it might focus her attention on him. "Victoria, I need you to tell me where you are. Sweetheart, tell me where you are and I'll come, okay? I'll come and get you."

"I…I don't know," her voice shook. "I was on a walk…I went to buy Evie the stuffed koala she wanted…to make her happy…I just went out and he…he cornered me and I…he had a gun…"

Homelander felt his blood chill as he wondered just what had gone on. He began walking out of the meeting room, storming down the corridors as people jumped up against the walls to stay out of his way. He made his way to the nearest balcony, ready to take off into the sky as soon as he had an idea of where he was going.

"Vicky, sweetheart, come on…it's alright. Whatever has happened, it'll be alright and we'll sort it. I just need you to tell me where you are. Can you send me a pin? Stay on the line and share your location with me, alright? Can you do that for me?"

"I think so," she said. "Yeah, just a second."

Homelander waited with patience as he heard her breaths come out in short pants. He looked down at the screen as she finally shared her location, the green dot blinking on his screen. Putting the phone back to his ear, he tried to ignore the howling of the wind around him. "I've got it," he promised her. "Just stay there, okay? Stay there and I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay," she agreed.

Homelander took off into the sky, flying as quickly as he could to her location. Landing at the end of an alley, he smelt it before he saw it: blood. Rushing down the alley, he ignored the smell of garbage and lasered his way through a chain link fence. He saw her stood at the end by the brick wall. Clearly, it was a dead end. Her hands were shaking and her face was white as a sheet. Her hair was tangled up down her cheeks and her heart was hammering against her chest. She had blood splattered on her face and a bruise forming on her cheek with a cut lip. Her tights were ripped and her coat was askew over her body.

Approaching her slowly, Homelander guessed she was in shock. He held his hands up as her eyes snapped onto him and away from the body on the floor. She had a gun in her hand and her bag was on the floor. She let out deep breaths as Homelander put his phone away and he saw that she'd dropped hers to the floor.

"Vicky…sweetheart…what…" he struggled for words.

"I didn't mean to," she whispered. "I didn't mean to."

"It's alright," Homelander promised her. "I promise you, it's going to be alright."

"He had a gun and he…he was going to shoot me…and I…I don't know how it happened," she stammered. "I just didn't know what to do and he…I tried to save him but I couldn't and I didn't know who to phone. I didn't know what to do."

Moving towards her, Homelander stood in front of her, cupping her cheek in his gloved palm. He moved his other hand down her arm, the motion slow as he tried to prise the gun from her fingers. "You did the right thing, sweetheart. I'll take care of this. I'll sort it. I promise you that I will sort this."

He got the gun from her hand and he dropped it onto the floor as she began to cry even louder than, the shock well and truly settling in. Homelander wrapped his arms around her as she clung onto him tightly, arms linking around his neck as he kept his around her waist. He kissed the top of her head, a hand snaking up to cup the back of her head. Her face pressed to his neck and his chin rested on the top of her head. He let out a deep breath as he looked at the dead man on the ground in front of him wearing a Hometeam shirt.

He knew that his wife had killed a man.

But more than that, he knew that he had to clean up this mess for her.

...

A/N: So it's been a while! Hope all is well and look forward to hearing your thoughts on this chapter!