Outlook

Butcher looks at the cold storage rack of the convenience store he was in. The lines of liquid beverages stood out to him as he stared at them one by one. Many of them were energy drinks, bottles and cartons of milk, soda, and lastly, lined up closest to where he was, were alcoholic beverages. The condensation and temperature of the storage seeped into his form as he opened one of the doors. A rack of beer cans greeted him plentifully, their brand and look familiar to him as he reached out, his fingers feeling the chill…

"You don't need to burn bridges all the time. Learn to find people that you trust, people you feel happy with, and cherish that bond down to the very end. Life's not a one-man show Billy and I hope you always remember that."

… only for them to retract as he recalled a certain woman's words.

A frown crawled into his face until he felt something licking his other hand.

"Fuck you, boy…" Butcher said with a small grin on his face as he looked at the rack of beverages before looking back to his dog. Terror had his tongue dangling out as if looking at him with a smiling face, thinking, maybe even expecting that he wouldn't take any of the alcoholic drinks with him. Clicking his tongue, Butcher then took a bottle of a fizzy lemonade out of one of the racks and placed it into the shopping basket that was hanging along his right arm. He then took three more other beverages, each of different kinds along with his own choice, which was a fairly old product of root beer that he used to drink as a younger lad.

He then closed the door of the refrigerated racks and looked at his dog who was still happily looking up at him.

"Happy now, you little shit?" he said as Terror closed its mouth and seemingly snuggled his head close into Butcher's leg. "Yeah, sure you are."

He then knelt down to his dog, petting him as he usually did around his ear and chin before Terror then lapped at him happily. Butcher let his dog lick his beard and cheeks as he smiled at it. A fond memory of his wife meeting the dog for the first time.

A small scar ran across the dog's right eye due to a little accident when he was a pup, but it was covered up mostly by the patch of fur on his face. The scar reminded him of another woman, boisterous, jolly, and energetic, just like his dog.

"Things are seemingly getting better, huh boy?" he said with a bit of disappointment in his voice as he stood back up again and thought about everything that happened after the Gala, how quickly things moved into motion, and how Olympia seemingly took over the world in a matter of weeks, into months.

Streets, even the one where he and his crew were stationed, were now more so relatively clean and while crime was still an existing issue, it massively dropped even in quieter, sketchy areas due to Olympia's presence.

Unlike Vought and its decades-long existence, never even touched or scraped such issues to be resolved or lowered in some manner.

To Butcher it was strange, all-around living in this rapidly changing world. A world that he was sure Becca would love dearly given how much of a sucker she was for Supes. Well, actually good Supes this time… which was strange coming from his own line of thinking.

He then hears terror whine, as if feeling his thoughts.

A smile is cast on Butcher's face as he pats the head of his dog, and he sighs.

"Miss her too, boy…" he said with some level of sadness. "… I miss her a lot."

Strangely enough, he was able to get over it unlike before where even a hint of Becca being mentioned, he would go into a fit of depression.

Maybe he was motivated to be better…

"Come on boy…" he said as he led his dog along to pay at the counter.

Maybe, the words of a new friend allowed him to find company and happiness again amongst a group of his old, favored lads. Ones who were quick to accept his word this time and got along cheerfully compared to how tragically they all ended things before under Mallory.

Standing in line to pay for his stash, Butcher pulled out a photograph from his jacket. A barely clear photo of himself pissing on The Deep's statue with that scar-faced woman laughing like there was no tomorrow beside him.

He smiled, for he could not remember the events of that very night still, but the echo of some of it still made him grin. Turning the photo over, he saw a series of numbers that he had yet to dial or call since that night.

"Sir?" the clerk on the aisle asked as Billy returned his focus to reality.

He tucked the photo away and began paying for his stash as the woman prepped it.

All while thinking of what next to do…

"Well fuck me, you're not joking this time huh?" Butcher said as he allowed himself to sit on top of the table where Frenchie was doing some work on a few cellphones that their contacts were saying were legit. The man had been finagling some of the hardware more to himself lately, much so because to Butcher's own observation, he had something distracting him, hard.

"What do you think I've been doing in my free time, eh, Butcher? I might not be the cleanest, suave fucker in the block, but I know for sure what to do when I'm put into this situation."

Butcher grinned as he took another swing of his can, yes, it was beer. Yet at the same time, it was on a lower percentage… at least low enough that he wouldn't be drunk for the next few hours and would remain stable enough to talk normally to.

"Yeah, and the last pure broad that ever got into your sights bailed on you the moment you told her about yer' past in some detail. I know for sure that you're a romantic at heart, but be real with me mate, what makes you think things will be better with this one, I ask?" Butcher challenged as Frenchie looked at him with a sigh before he dropped his tools on the desk and started scratching his head with some nervousness seeping in.

"Look, Butcher, I know you're trying to make fun of me, alright? But I am trying… I'm a fucked-up case of a person that's dealt with a lot of shady things, but I'm trying to be better, for her sake."

Butcher looked straight into his comrade's eyes, leaning slightly into him while Frenchie remained steady, before leaning back and snickering. He then shook his can and took another swing of his drink to finish it completely. "…and I ain't trying to make fun of you Frenchie, just kinda worried, is all. You already know what it means when people like us try to have a normal life… right, mate?"

Frenchie then outstretched his hand to his left as Terror jumped onto the desk through the chair beside it and placed one of the cans of soda that Butcher bought from a nearby convenience store into his grasp. "You mean, like MM? He's doing pretty well these days, like hell, I'm surprised his wife even accepted it this time, knowing how much they fought over it back in the day."

"Well MM's always been special. He's different than us, that's for sure." Butcher said in agreement as Frenchie smiled. "Anyhow, returning to what we were just talking about before you rudely segued the conversation-

"… fuck you, I did not." Frenchie fired back with a laugh as Butcher continued to playfully grin.

"-I'm just looking out for you, mate. As friends always do." He suddenly said.

He then threw his can of beer into the nearest bin without it hitting its mark as Frenchie became silent. Staring at Butcher in pure disbelief, like he had seen an impossible, world-changing thing.

"The fuck are you looking at me like that?" Butcher said as he finally noticed the silence and the look on Frenchie's face. Eventually, the man started to giggle before bursting into a small fit of laughter while Butcher remained confused.

"Fils de pute, you fucking said that with a straight face?" Frenchie said in disbelief.

"The hell do you mean by that Frenchie?"

"I must be dreaming…" Frenchie said as he giggled again. "The infamous, Billy-fucking-Butcher, is telling me with a straight face that he's looking out for me? Are we sure you're not a clone, Butcher, or are you just drunk this early in the morning?"

Butcher was about to say a retort until he closed his lips shut quickly, realizing what he had just done. Frenchie then continued to laugh as he tried waving him away with his hand.

"Fuck you, Frenchie."

"I know… but wow, I did not expect that, least of all from your lips, Butcher. I wonder if it's true though? Or you're just messing with me."

Butcher then looked at his friend with a sigh as he felt Terror lying next to his leg.

"So it was true? Rarely do I see you quiet on shit like this." Frenchie addressed as he leaned back on his chair and looked contemplative. "Damn, I never thought I'd see the day when someone like you reaches a point where they get soft."

"And what does that mean?" Butcher lightly warned.

"You know what I'm saying, friend. Times' are a-changin', like that song and I believe I'm trying my best to try and see that brighter place in life too. Just to escape… all of this." He said with the final few words gesturing towards their 'headquarters'. Which was a run-down warehouse filled with crap that they tried to make somewhat homely.

Mostly by the effort of that one other person that they didn't expect to add to the group.

"Wait a second… Frenchie… you're not having a crush on who I'm thinking of, right?" Butcher said playfully as an epiphany dawned on him.

"Eh? What the hell does that mean, Butcher?"

A grin, larger than any grin Frenchie had seen on Butcher manifested as he started to feel backed up into a corner.

"Oh, dear Frenchie, not her, of all people?" Butcher taunted with a giggling tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

If there was any consolation to the words and bickering between the two, it was that their warehouse, while run-down was furnished and organized enough to a degree that it was serviceable as a home. It was cleaned with as much tidiness as possible, with the aura and acceptance that it exuded, reminding the Boys amongst them that they were safe, and secure from any sort of harm.

All because of one person.

"Fuck off Butcher, you ain't finding shit about my-

"Oh come on, Frenchie we've been buds since forever, ey? Why don't you-

KNOCK! KNOCK!

Both froze and became silent as they heard someone entering the room they were in and began knocking at one of the cabinets where Frenchie's tools were stored. A bubbly and lovely smile greeted both of them as she waved at them. Holding groceries in her cute little basket.

"Hello, I finally got back with the groceries. Does… anybody wish for me to cook lunch?" the girl innocently said with her wide eyes and beautiful smile that melted even Butcher's heart. Marie her name was, according to her. Nobody strangely questioned her more about her backstory, only that Butcher met him in the hotel as one of the service crew there as well as her having the ability to protect herself, somehow.

It was strange that each time they so much so as stared at her or were in their presence, she only exuded an innocent, playful aura. One that did not even dare to harm anything, despite them seeing her off-hand, doing something against a couple of shady people in one of their operations.

Yet, at the same time, Marie clicked well with their group so much that she became the heart and soul of it.

"Excellent!" she said while cupping both hands together in glee. "I have this little recipe, my mother taught me long ago. It may not be everybody's cup of tea, but I hope I can manage."

"Of course, Marie… anything for you!" Frenchie said with a large grin.

It only furthered Butcher's smile as he placed an arm around Frenchie's back.

"Yeah, Marie… we'd all appreciate it."

"You are welcome then, gentlemen. I must prepare it now if you all mind." Marie said as she began walking away much to the two's astonishment, leaving the room with another wave.

She was a strange person. A kind, strange person. One that always carried a knife on her persona for some reason, yet nobody seemingly felt that she was a threat. Not even Butcher, not even Frenchie, nor anybody else.

To them, she was just like a part of the family.

One that Butcher was having a fit of giddiness as he watched Frenchie's longing face.

"And that right there is the problem… she's too perfect for you mate."

Frenchie then angrily swept Butcher's arm aside as he began walking away with a bit of heaviness to his steps. "Fuck you, Butcher, seriously fuck you."

"I'm just teasing you Frenchie, is all…"

"Yeah well, fuck you still…" he said as he waved him away only to stop when MM, who barged through the door met eyes with him before turning away.

"The hell was that?" MM said as he looked where Frenchie went off to.

"Eh, a bit of fun, that's all," Butcher said with indifference as MM huffed before walking towards him. Butcher then recalled last week before all the Campus shit, that he went to his daughter's basketball game. The man was so happy and proud the next day that they were actively lucky with the investigation they used on a local hero Blue Hawk, who went into hiding recently due to all the Olympia stuff.

"Butcher…" MM said, suddenly serious.

"What?" he asked, surprised by the tone he just came in with.

"Raynor called me about something…"

Butcher's brow was raised with the mention of that name. Mostly because her dear CIA contact usually called him directly, before anybody else. It was strange that he was hearing this now, in MM's words.

"What's it about?"

"Mallory wants to meet you…" MM said with a shrug before scratching the top of his head with some discomfort. "…Raynor says ol' Madame Mallory's in a deal with someone, and discussing it needs your presence."

"Olympia… I reckon." Butcher quickly guessed.

"Yeah, but this is serious Butcher, much as I feel you're more of an asshole, instead of a friend, I do still worry about you man. You know I'm still your friend, regardless."

"Get to the point MM. It's not like I've already heard the worst when it comes to news." Butcher replied with frustration until he felt MM's hand press gently but supportively on his shoulder.

"Mallory's been told that it's about Becca."

AN: Next time, either next week or near the end of next week, wholesome times with Kimiko. Haha. Hope ye enjoyed this small update.