Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Shit.”

It was the only word every person in the room could muster as the television echoed through the dingy room they called their hideout.

On the small screen was an alert from Vought, demanding all the viewers’ attention. It was on every channel. It must have cost them a fortune to pull such a stunt off. Not that that would ever be an issue to them, though, M.M thought as he pulled his laptop over his knees and began frantically typing down notes about the new bomb the All-American, all good, not-at-all-trying-to-fuck-someone-over company had just dropped.

“When’s the last time Vought has ever declared one of their Supes as missing?” Frenchie’s voice sounded first, and all the heads in the dirty abandoned house turned towards him.

“Never, that’s a first,” Billy Butcher answered hurriedly. He was trying to keep his composure but, in truth, he was just as nervous as the rest of them. He took a quick scan of everyone’s faces and dragged a hand over his sweaty forehead.

His whole team, which he referred to as The Boys, was gathered here, all scrunched up on the small couch in front of the screen. They had just come back from a “job” in their hope of one day taking down Vought, some of them were still bloody and bruised, some of them had just been eating a well-deserved lukewarm cup of ramen noodles, which they had now cast aside, their appetites lost at the enormity of the news they had just gotten. Before the message from their common enemy appeared on the television, one might even say they were having a good time, as far as ‘having a good time” goes among The Boys. M.M had begrudgingly agreed to follow them and not go straight back home for once, Frenchie and Kimiko were just about to start baking a sweet treat for everyone, even Annie and Hughie had stayed. Generally, these days, when they came back from a job, it was down to Butcher and Violet to hold down the fort. Which, in reality just meant that they were the only two people out of all of them who where never in a rush to get home.

Violet had none, and Butcher, well, he’d not felt at home anywhere since Becca died. Or as he’d put it, disappeared.

They wouldn’t admit it, of course, but the two of them were actually looking forward to an evening spent with their team, laughing and most certainly drinking until daybreak, but, instead of that, Vought had decided to take their fight to the next level. The next ten levels, at least, would be exact.

Violet’s face would soon be plastered everywhere around the world with the big, bright, red letters “MISSING” above it.

“Well, I hope you’ve enjoyed your last day outside, V, ‘cause you’re not getting one any time soon,” M.M said while compassionately patting the woman’s arm and noticing how small and scared she appeared to be. Not at all like the woman he had known for so many years. While she usually stood tall with her head high and her gaze focused, she now had her jaw clenched and her green eyes looking off in the distance, her legs shaking nervously. He had never seen her so scared in her life. And she had every reason to be, he thought.

“So...what does that mean, then?” Annie asked, shooting Butcher a look. She hated to admit it, but when it came to Vought and their wicked ways, Butcher was the one who knew the most about them. She came as a close second, though, but she couldn’t recall a time in history when Vought had admitted to losing track of a hero, without claiming said hero had died for one cause or the other. Soldier Boy came to mind, of course, but she was sure he had actually died. No, this was uncharted territory.

Violet stood slowly, her brown hair sliding down her shoulder and she winced, putting her finger on her busted lip.

“Well,” she tutted, “it means Vought is serious about finding me. It means…” She stopped to look at her team, they were all waiting for her next words. She walked over to her Supe suit, which she had thrown off in a corner of the room when she came in. She took it in her hands and scrunched it. “It means they’re out for blood,” she uttered through gritted teeth.

“And so am I.”

“Violet, let’s be clever about this, okay?” Hughie stood up and placed himself in front of her. “You can’t go out, and you sure as hell aren’t going in the Tower, okay?” He spoke fast and tried to have her meet his gaze.

“Look, as much as it costs me to say it,” Butcher interjected, “the kid’s right.”

Hughie smiled proudly at that and gave Annie a nod as she smiled back at him.

“You’ve got to be smart about this, Violet. They know you, alright. They know by now you’ve got your panties in a twist about this and they know the one thing you want is to make ‘em pay for-”

Violet shot Butcher a look which made him go silent. He scratched his throat and spoke again.

“My point is,” he swaggered about the room. He loved this, the urgency which made everyone look to him for leadership. He didn’t enjoy that she was the target, however, and he would make Vought pay for it a hundred times. “Violet, you’ve got to go into hiding, and for real, this time. That means you’re not even gonna tell us where you are, understood?”

Protests rose among them as they all chimed in. Some agreed with Butcher, some argued not telling a soul her whereabouts would endanger her further.

“Maybe,” Violet spoke resolutely, looking into Kimiko’s eyes, then nodding at Frenchie. “But it’ll keep you all safe. And that’s what matters.”

“Because you don’t, is that it?” Hughie argued angrily, which made Violet smile a sad and bitter one.

“No,” she pressed on the word, “that’s not what I meant. You know I’d rather not sacrifice myself if I can help it. What I meant was...The Boys will always be more effective if they’re not slowed down ‘cause they’re worried about keeping each other safe. And the more effective The Boys are, the less people will get hurt because of Vought. That is a sacrifice I’m willing to make. The suffering of one is nothing compared to the lives of the many.”

She knew Butcher was right, deep down. Had she not been in that situation, she would have joked about how frightening it was to live in a world where William Butcher was right.

All she wanted to do right now was head to the Tower and go straight for Stan Edgar’s head, but she had to be better than her instincts. She had to control that urge to burn it all down to ashes. She had to, or else everything that happened would have been for nothing. And she’d rather die that let all of that pain be for nothing.

“Spoken like a true Superhero,” Annie concluded sarcastically.

“I know, it’s a shame they ever let me out of their sight, I could have been their poster girl, huh?” Violet laughed. “Much better than Starlight, I’d even say.”

Both women chuckled, forgetting about the seriousness of the situation for just a second, but, when their laughs died down, the silence and tension in the room gave them a stark reminder.

“Violet, love,” Butcher placed a large hand on his old partner in crime’s shoulder and she breathed in deeply, gulping as she braced herself to say goodbye to the one constant she had had in her life for the past ten years.

Again, had it not been a life-threatening situation, she would have joked about Butcher being her constant, and her being his. About how, to her, his presence somehow felt like some kind of comfort, and all she had been used to most of her adult life.

“Geez Louise, Violet, if I didn’t know you any better I’d say you were ‘bout to cry,” Butcher half-joked, trying to diffuse the tension. Violet smiled and shook her head wistfully.

“Cunt,” the woman simply replied before inching away from him. She grabbed her suit, threw it in a duffel bag along with a few other of her belongings and her finely chosen selection of weapons, and slid the bag over her shoulder. Silently and with a heavy heart she’d never admit to having in a million years, she opened the door, ready to leave and never see them again.

“Wait!” Hughie cried out, striding fast to give her one last hug. They were about the same age, albeit Violet being the oldest out of the two by a few years and they had become good friends in the short amount of time they’d known each other. Aside from Annie and Kimiko, Hughie was the one out of all of them whom she’d known the shortest amount of time. Frenchie, M.M, Butcher and her went way back, before M.M had his daughter, before Mallory’s grandkids, before Becca went missing, before…

There was no point reminiscing now, she thought. Not ever again, even. That day would be the end of her association with The Boys.

“Take care, alright?” M.M squeezed her upper arm.

“You too, Marvin,” Violet nodded briefly. “All of you. If I ever see you again, it better be for a damned good reason, ‘cause my life’s gonna be on the line.”

And with those words, she glanced at them for the last time before exiting the safehouse without ever turning back.

“Goodbye, Mademoiselle Violette,” Frenchie bid her goodbye with a hint of melancholy. They all watched as the woman walked away, all standing in the door frame in silence. Once she was out of sight, they all packed up and went their separate ways for the night.

Chapter Text

A year and 7 months later.

“In other news, Stan Edgar, head of the world-renowned company Vought, has asked all reliable news outlets to remind the population to please look out for any sign whatsoever of their missing Hero, Psyche. Vought would like to remind everyone that, as of today, it has indeed been two years already since the popular hero has been…” The news anchor spoke solemnly before coming to a stop as he brought his hand to his earpiece, tying to hear the bits of information he was being given.

“This just in, Homelander, Captain of The Seven, outside Vought Tower, is addressing the situation as we speak. These must be tough times for him, as, let me remind you, recently, his former partner Stormfront was revealed to be a working towards a fascist agenda, hoping to manipulate our beloved hero and overtake the company. Let us hear what he has to say about Psyche.”

The cameras showed Homelander looking grim, commanding the attention of the growing crowd forming around him. It was beginning to become quite a large gathering, too, but the crowd fell silent when he spoke again. He had a grave look about his face and patted his hand over his large armoured chest, as if to convey to the world how truly heartbroken he was about all this.

“I...Listen, as you all know, Psyche has always been like a little sister to me and it is no secret that the two of us share a...special bond, as we showed on our reality show “Psyche and The Homelander take London” where we went to explore her birthplace and...well, you know the rest. If you don’t, I suggest you head over to our streaming platform, Vought +, and catch up. I know I’ve often rewatched it in the past two years, for comfort, when the pain of my dearest friend’s absence grew too much to take, even for me. And it worked, nothing fires me up quite like it, to be honest. Nothing gives me more confidence in the fact that I will find her.”

He marked a pause, giving his last words a deeper meaning, making them sound like a threat to anyone who would dare prevent him from finding her.

“Psyche,” he looked straight into the camera. “Wherever you are, if you can hear me, know that I’ve been relentlessly looking for you all over...And trust that one day, sooner than you might believe, you and I will be reunited...I miss you, my friend. And I’ll do everything in my power to get you back.”

Homelander then nodded sharply before flying off, leaving the crowd cheering for him and the news anchor to discuss those “poignant images”, as he put it, with so-called experts and consultants.

Billy Butcher rose from his seat and walked towards the television, pressing on the off button to shut it off. His jaw was clenched as he sat back down at his desk, his back turned away from Frenchie and Kimiko, who was signing something to the French man. He seemed to agree with her as he strode towards Butcher who wouldn’t look at him.

“Monsieur Charcutier, I know we have this kind of “don’t mention Violette” deal, huh? But doesn’t this seem to be the kind of thing we should talk about?” He stood, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot tapping rapidly.

No answer came from the British man.

“If you did not want to talk about her, why did you leave the television on, huh? Because you love listening to Homelander talk so much? Or because you were hoping to find out something, just the smallest thing, about her? Butcher, come on!” Frenchie grew frustrated the more Butcher refused to answer him, and, soon, he found himself gripping the man by the collar of his blue Hawaiian shirt.

Kimiko ran to separate the both of them, but stopped in her tracks when M.M burst through the door.

“Alright, Butcher, I know what we said, but this is Violet we’re talking about,” he didn’t even bother checking what was happening in the room, his face showing how determined he was. “God-damn Violet, Butcher!”

Billy stood up and shoved Frenchie aside, straightened his shirt as he strutted towards a window and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before he spoke at last.

“What is there to talk about?” Was all he bothered to say.

“What-” M.M laughed bitterly. “Butcher, c’mon, I know you’re not that cold hearted.”

“What didn’t you understand from the blond cunt’s little display? They don’t know where she is, and neither do we. There’s nothing more to discuss, is it?”

There was a brief pause and Kimiko signed something else to Frenchie, asking him to translate.

“Mon coeur, yes!” Frenchie exclaimed proudly before translating to his partners. “She said there’s one thing we can take from Homelander’s interview.”

Butcher came closer to Kimiko, tilting his head.

“Oh yeah, and what would that be?” He inquired.

“Well, we know Mademoiselle Violette is not dead, huh?”

M.M squinted as he leaned on one of the desks in their new office in the Flat Iron Building, courtesy of the Bureau of Superhuman Affairs for which they now all worked, officially. It was all very serious and mostly paperwork, these days, but at least the pay was good. Better than when it was just The Boys, at least.

“The female’s right, Butcher, you know that?” He said and Kimiko sat up straight, smiling thankfully at him. “Why would Vought bother to still pretend to have a missing Supe if they’d found her dead, if they’d killed her? They didn’t bother keeping that up when Translucent died. They could’ve, but they didn’t.”

“Yeah, well, we killed Translucent and sent him in pieces to them. For all I know she...Violet could be dead in a ditch and Vought wouldn’t know.” It was the first time in months Butcher had even said her name.

“They would,” a feminine voice interrupted him. “And they haven’t found her yet, but from what I gather, they’re really set on increasing their efforts to. They need the good publicity.”

Annie set down her bag on the sofa and sat next to it, taking her phone out to give Hughie a call.

“I came as soon as I heard,” she confessed. “Not that it’d change anything but...I felt like I needed to.”

“Yes, well, that’s all bloody lovely, but I’ve got some work to do, everyone. So if you’d all kindly fuck off somewhere else to talk about the massive nothingness which has just happened, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“You know sometimes Butcher you can be a real asshole,” M.M shook his head disappointedly. “Every time I think you’re gonna be half-decent, you prove me wrong time and time again.”

Butcher stayed silent as his whole team exited their office in a disgruntled hum, all giving him some kind of opinion on his behaviour, which, frankly, he didn’t care to listen to. He knew the kind of man he was, he had no illusion on the matter. He knew Violet wasn’t dead, because if she were, Vought would have made sure that he knew. They’d have made Homelander cry about it on national television for months, making her death the one thing she’d hate, a publicity stunt in favour of the cunts who ruined her life.

No, Violet was not dead. He however had no idea where on earth she could be, and god knows he tried to find her. For a few months after she left their safehouse all that time ago, M.M, Frenchie and him had sort of agreed on keeping an eye on her, but had all lost her track eventually. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he hadn’t really had time to think about finding her the past year, with everything that had happened. After finding out his Becca wasn’t dead, he had to come to terms with her actually dying because of the son she had as a result of Homelander’s assault. He tried caring for the child but, deep down, he knew he’d never see him as anything more than the reason the love of his life was taken from him after he had finally just gotten her back.

He wondered if Violet was keeping an eye on them, and if she knew about all this, how she’d feel about it all. She’d probably threaten to burn down every Vought facility in the state, if she knew. The thought made him smile sadly as he took another drag of his cigarette. Even now, he didn’t really have any time to waste thinking about her, as he was busy finding out the legitimacy of a weapon which, according to some claims, could kill Homelander. He owed it to Violet, to Becca, to find it, if it existed.

Looking out the window, he shook his head, slid on his coat and left the office, thinking he’d walk off the funk he found himself in before meeting his informant. Outside, down in the centre of the bustling city, he felt as if someone was watching him and stopped in his tracks when he spotted a woman on the other side of the street. Was that…?

No, it couldn’t be.

He strode fast towards where he thought the woman was, but when he reached that spot, she was nowhere to be found. Great, he thought, now he was seeing things.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered. “I could’ve sworn it was you, Violet.”

But she wouldn’t be so careless, she wouldn’t be hiding in plain sight, would she? Before he could ponder the thought any further, his phone buzzed and he grunted, picking up. He already knew who it was.

“Oi, M.M, next time you feel guilty about calling me an arsehole, instead of ringing me, just buy me flowers, would you? It’d cheer up the office, yeah?” He teased.

The man on the other line laughed.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“So...why’re you calling?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but...you’ve got to come to my place. Now.”

“Miss me already? Don’t you worry M.M, we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow. Hughie’s got a job lined up for us.”

“Butcher...I’m serious. Now.”

Before Billy could reply, the call came to and abrupt end and his blood rushed to his head. It had to be serious, or Marvin wouldn’t have bothered. He hated having Butcher over. Mostly because this week, he had his daughter over and he’d sooner cut off his own arm than expose her to the mess this man was nowadays.

As he lifted his fist to knock on the door, Butcher was greeted by a worried M.M, rushing him inside and locking the door behind them.

“Where’s your kid, then?” He inquired. “Wasn’t this supposed to be your week?”

M.M checked that no one had followed his teammate here before he answered.

“I drove her back to her mother’s as soon as I found this,” Marvin pointed to the piece of clothing strewn on his kitchen table and Butcher seemed taken aback. He’d know that thing anywhere. A red leather full-body suit, with matching dark red boots and a black utility belt, which usually would have been filled with all sorts of weapons, but was empty, and most importantly, wet with fresh blood.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his fingers running along the fabric. He scrunched his fist around it and looked up at M.M whose worry riddled his face.

“I think Violet might be dead, Butcher.” The words seemed to rip a hole in his heart, his voice breaking. “Or she’s about to be.”

“Nah, she’s not dead,” Butcher sounded way more confident than he actually felt which caused M.M to furrow his brow and tut. “I saw her outside the Flat Iron Building. Or at least I thought I did before you called. I think she’s back in New York, and I wanna know why.”

Chapter Text

It had been weeks since M.M found Violet’s suit in his apartment, and nothing about her had surfaced, not from Vought, not from anyone else. Both M.M and Butcher had agreed on not telling the rest of their team about this just yet, it would do no good to worry them, especially not now that the weapon to kill Homelander had been located and they were heading to Eastern Europe to find it. That thing was supposed to have killed Soldier Boy, Vought’s previous all mighty Supe, America’s son and fallen angel, as people would often put it. The team had found themselves breaking in a military facility, which, to them, was a piece of cake.

Butcher’s informant, The Seven’s own Queen Maeve, had given him Temporary V, which allowed him to develop Supe-like abilities for 24 hours, and, somehow, he thought it was a good idea to use it. He thought that if he was to find the thing to kill Homelander, he would have to come prepared to fight. No one would let that thing out of their sight easily.

He didn’t feel at ease at all, like someone was watching him. He made sure the place was cleared out though, so no one, besides him and The Boys, was here, yet, out of the corner of his eye, he kept seeing a figure in the shadows. Or so he thought he did. Must’ve been the V. Either that or the sour mood the whole team was in because they found out Hughie had gotten hold of some Temp-V as well.

“Alright, so let me get this straight, whatever’s in there can kill Homelander, right?” M.M asked for the hundredth time just that day.

“For Christ’s sake, yes, M.M. We’ve just got to find a way to open the fucking thing,” Butcher replied dryly, not being able to shake that feeling. He was trying to pry open the heavy metal capsule in the middle of the room.

Just as he pulled strongly once again, the capsule opened and smoke clouded the room, preventing them all from seeing what was inside. Before it cleared out, what sounded like strained breaths grew louder.

There was no weapon in there, but a man who M.M soon recognized as the man who was responsible for the death of a big part of his family, for most of the pain he had endured his whole life. He looked crestfallen, much like everyone else in the room.

“Soldier Boy…” Butcher whispered, not being able to believe his eyes, watching him untie himself and take off the mask he had on his face. The silence in the room was deafening as Soldier Boy, who was supposed to have been dead for forty years stepped out of the prison he had been kept in for so long, absolutely butt-naked. He stood before Frenchie who had his gun pointed at him, fear paralysing him.

“Jesus,” they all heard but could not see who it came from, as Soldier Boy blasted some kind of burst of energy towards Frenchie, urging Kimiko to jump and shove the man aside, getting hit by the blast and crashing through several walls.

Soldier Boy didn’t bother to stay in the room and fight the rest of them but instead tried to find his way out of the facility. He seemed confused, scared, even.

Once he reached the outside of the building, he paused to look around. He had no idea where on earth he was, but he knew the pain had finally stopped. He could finally breathe without feeling as though a thousand fires burnt his lungs and knives pierced his skin. He took a deep, grateful breath before running again.

“Oi, Soldier Boy,” a voice sounded behind him and he turned so fast his head felt dizzy. “Here, take those.”

A woman whom he had never seen in his life threw him a pile of clothes. She didn’t look scared like the people who had freed him did. Instead, she looked straight at him, her arms crossed over her chest and her foot tapping the concrete rhythmically.

“Hurry, we don’t got all day,” she urged him and he did as she ordered.

“Who the fuck are you?” Soldier Boy asked her threateningly once he had put on the set of clothes. They looked like they had been picked out from a janitor’s closet, and they smelt like it too. “What do you want from me?”

“That’s something for us to talk about later. For now, all you need to know is that I want to get you out of here,” the woman replied dryly as she opened the passenger door of a truck she then jumped into and started. Seeing that Soldier Boy didn’t get in, she looked over at him expectantly.

“Or maybe you wanna stay here?”

He shook his head and sat beside her, slamming the car door.

“Okay, drive. We’ll get out of here and talk later, seems like a fair trade. Are you with those guys back there? The ones who opened my pod?”

The woman shook her head, driving fast away from the building. She spotted the four men carrying Kimiko hurriedly towards their own van in her rear-view mirror.

“No,” she answered before thinking. “Well, yes and no. It’s a long story.”

Soldier Boy stiffened in his seat. He didn’t know where the fuck he was, he didn’t know when he was, for that matter. All he knew, in this instant, was that, that woman, was driving him far from that hell-hole, and for that, she had his eternal gratefulness.

“Alright. Could I at least get a name, then?” He inquired again, desperate for any kind of clue as to who his saviour was.

The woman’s hands gripped the steering wheel harder and she gulped, giving him a quick glance. Jesus, he really was Soldier Boy, in the flesh.

“Violet,” she announced. “My name’s Violet.”

Soldier Boy nodded to himself. The tension in the van was thick, palpable. Violet hadn’t planned for this day to take such a turn. Originally, she had wanted to tell her former teammates she’d had enough of hiding, and that she was adamant of using whatever they’d find against Homelander. On that part, she could still figure something out, once she found answers to the million questions fogging her brain.

How the fuck could the Soldier Boy be here? Alive and, judging by the looks of it, still very much the same age as when he “died”?

He shifted in his seat, fiddling with the damp shirt Violet gave him. He looked like he was in pain, lost somewhere deep in his mind, then, he looked back at her.

“At least tell me if you’re planning on locking me back up,” he asked pleadingly. It seemed strange for a man like him to sound so...scared of something. He was Soldier Boy, the Nation’s Hero, after all. Whatever happened to him in there must have been dreadful if even he couldn’t handle it.

“I won’t, unless you give me a reason to.” She sounded harsher than she intended, but she felt she had to tread lightly when it came to him. He did just blow up and blast her friend through a wall.

“Hey, so...Mind if I ask you something?” She gulped, looking quickly at him before turning her eyes back on the road.

“Shoot.”

“I don’t remember you ever being able to blast beams of energy like you did ever before. How’d that happen?”

His green eyes flashed with a hint of pain for a second before he blinked and smirked at her.

“Liked what you saw, sweet cheeks?” He grinned and Violet glared at him.

“Christ, you barely lasted an hour before becoming an ass,” she teased. “C’mon, answer me.”

He sat up again, scratching his beard.

“If you’re asking how it happened, I dunno. If you’re asking why, I don’t either. My guess is, it’s because of the time I spent here. When you’re locked up for...Wait, how long was I in for?”

Violet’s heart sank, he didn’t know.

“Okay, this might come as a bit of a shock, so, please, take it easy, alright?”

He nodded sharply, it couldn’t be that bad. Couldn’t have been more than a year, his team would’ve come for him if it had been more. He knew it in his bones, Payback would have come. The Countess would have, if not any of the others.

Violet pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road and got out, urging the man to do the same.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” he shook his head, trying to convince himself. The look Violet had on her face didn’t help comfort him, it did the exact opposite.

“Hey, don’t blame me, but it looks like you’re not even aware of when you’re gonna blow up, my guy. So, yeah, I’m taking precautions.” Violet’s heart broke for Kimiko, who, she had to admit, was most likely dead. She couldn’t think about it for now, not until they were both somewhere safe, far away from here.

He tilted his head expectantly, crossing his arms over his chest. Violet couldn’t help but notice he still looked good, even with his dirty blond hair and beard so unkept, so far from what she had seen in footage and pictures. She wasn’t even born when he was taken.

She took a few cautious steps back and made sure her gun was at arms length, just in case. She scratched her throat and the back of her head, looking down at her feet, then, she looked in his green eyes and sighed.

“It’s been give or that forty years,” she announced cautiously.

“F-”, he tried to register the enormous punch to the gut this news was. He looked around, his vision blurry. His heart was pounding in his ears.

Forty fucking years.

A massive wave of sadness, then anger, came crashing down on him and he almost felt his knees falter. He placed a hand on the van and leaned against it, to ground himself. Violet stayed quiet and stood back. She felt for the poor bastard, truly. She knew he wasn’t as perfect as Vought claimed, but still, forty years was an awfully long fucking time to be kept anywhere.

“Forty...forty years.” He kept whispering over and over again.

Violet waited for him to lose control again, but it seemed like he wasn’t going to. He was just...overcome with pain, with grief for all the time he lost. Against all better judgement, thr young woman walked over to him and placed a hand on his back, helping him stand up straight as she placed her other hand on his forearm. At first, he didn’t move, but when he was back on his feet, she shoved her away.

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” he shouted and she jumped back, her heart beating fast.

“S...Sorry,” she apologized before getting back behind the wheel. They stayed silent for a little while, her in the car and him stood outside, breathing and taking it all in. Soon, he opened the door and got it, his thigh brushing against hers. She inched away from him and started the van, driving away in uncomfortable silence.

“Feel any better?” She asked after a while.

“I’m not a fucking pussy,” he simply dismissed her. “We’re not gonna talk about our feelings and braid each other’s hair, alright? Once we’re outta here, it’ll be like we never met.”

Violet shook her head, she couldn’t believe the never of this man.

“Alright, sunshine, settle down. I was just trying to make it all less unbearable, but if that’s how you want it to go, fine by me.” Violet shut off and carried on driving until she reached her safehouse, checking every room for any intruders.

Having found none, she took off her boots and plopped down on a chair.

“I never thought I’d say that, but this place feels like a downgrade from where I spent the last forty years,” Soldier Boy ventured, testing the waters.

Violet turned in his direction and glared at him, her blue eyes cold.

“Yeah? Feel free to go back, then, be my guest,” she answered coldly and the tiny smile on the man’s face fell. “There’s a bed in the other room, you can have it, I’ll take the sofa.”

She walked over to a nearby door and opened it, showing Soldier Boy his quarters for the night.

“I could take the couch,” he said, obviously trying to be nice.

“Don’t bother, you need it more than I do,” Violet simply replied, turning her back from him and sitting on the sofa.

“Don’t mind if I do, then,” he swaggered off into the room, closing the door and sighing as his head touched the dirty pillow.

Knowing he was a great flight risk, Violet didn’t sleep a wink that night, instead, she stayed up wondering what happened to her former partners, if Kimiko was even still alive.

Chapter Text

“How the fuck do I know if I can trust you not to fuck me over?” Soldier Boy asked as him and Violet smoked by the window of the small apartment they’d been staying in for the past days.

Getting back to the US proved easier than Violet had thought, because now, she wasn’t travelling alone, they were two Supes, with double the abilities. Granted the relationship with Soldier Boy hadn’t flourished into a beautiful friendship like they’d have put it in one of Vought’s shitty movies, they’d grown to understand each other a bit more. At least they’d learnt what not to do to piss the other off, and that was great progress. They hadn’t tried to bite each other’s throat off yet in the past week, which, given how short-tempered they both were, was growth.

Of course, out of the two of them, her abilities were the more reliable, given she wasn’t prone to incomprehensible outbursts of deadly energy at the slightest mention of where Soldier Boy spent the last four decades. At least that’s what Violet had narrowed it down in the amount of time they’d spent together, which, to be frank, was beginning to feel like a lot.

“You don’t,” the woman answered truthfully. “That’s the thing, SB, there’s no knowing whether or not we’re trustworthy. You were supposed to be dead and I-”

“Haven’t given me much more information about you other than your name?” Soldier Boy interrupted her with a playful grin.

“Yeah, that too,” she chuckled before taking a drag of her cigarette. “I suppose we’ve got no reason not to at least partially trust each other, right?”

“For now, yeah. Just keep in mind that I’ll kill you the second I have the slightest doubt about your intentions, alright? There’s no way in hell I’m ever going down again, Violet.”

“I know, it’s the same for me,” she said, marking a slight pause before continuing. “You haven’t told me your name either, you know.”

Soldier Boy smiled. At last, he didn’t feel like he were trying to diffuse a bomb when the two of them talked. He felt as though, although she’d never admit it, Violet was grateful not to be hiding alone any more. He was glad he wasn't going through...whatever the hell it was that he was going through, alone, too.

“It’s Ben,” he confessed. “Didn’t you read it at some point on a file during your time at Vought?”

Violet shook her head.

“Your files had a very restricted accessibility, I used to wonder why, but now I think I know. Besides, why would I look into your file when you’d been dead for decades?”

She looked up at him, there was a brief pause and he snickered.

“Fair point. I’d be curious to look into your file.”

She chuckled.

“No gross end to that sentence?” She teased. “Wow, how you’ve grown, man.”

He shook his head, smiling as he took a drag of his cigarette and crushed it in the ashtray.

“I’m serious, you’re not really the talkin” about your life type, are you?” He crossed his arms.

“There’s no point in that, is there?” She scratched her scalp and let out an uneasy laugh. “Heh, as for my file, I think you’d find it under “Disappointment”, or “Biggest waste of money since The Crimson Countess’s beauty range”,” she shaid humorously.

Soldier Boy chortled.

“Yeah, what a fucking dumb idea that was,” he continued. “But, really, why are you not their top Hero? A fine looking lady like you, with the abilities you got, I’d put you first, not the simpering fuck they’ve got replacing me.”

“They tried,” Violet opened up. “I was supposed to become his second in command at some point, but...some things happened, and here we are.”

“And let’s leave it at that, is that it?”

Violet nodded.

“For now, yeah. Let’s focus on how we want the same thing: revenge from those cunts. The rest doesn’t matter just yet.”

Violet walked away from the window, pacing around the room. She did that silently for a while, under Soldier Boy’s contemplative gaze. The silence only interrupted when he opened a cupboard to bring out a bottle of whiskey, taking a gigantic gulp before handing it to the woman, who gladly took just as big of a sip and grimaced.

“I’m more of a tequila kinda girl,” she smirked.

Soldier Boy nodded, his green eyes running all over her features, and she averted her eyes from him.

“I bet,” he grinned.

“Shut up, SB,” Violet shoved him lightly.

The man shook his head, a playful smile on his lips, then he turned to face her again and looked serious.

“Please, call me Ben.”

The woman nodded and took another sip of whiskey.

“Alright, Ben,” she agreed. “Any plans for today?”

He nodded. Usually, he would have enjoyed having her call him Soldier Boy, still. But...Was he even still that? Was he just Ben now? He hated that he was now questioning everything, since the pod. Forty years is a long fucking time and he had to find things to think about to avoid becoming batshit crazy. All he knew, right now, is that he liked hearing her say his name. He liked hearing her talk, as it turned out. He had somehow associated her voice with a new sense of safety, since her voice was the first one he didn’t feel terrible pain after hearing. For once, a new voice didn’t mean new kinds of pain, of torture. It just meant hearing some little woman say things, sometimes grating, and sometimes… Well, he wasn’t a goddamn wuss, so he shoved all those thoughts back and swaggered about the room.

“I’m thinking about meeting up with an old friend,” he announced.

“By meeting up, you mean scaring half to death?”

The man smiled, amused.

“You got me,” he admitted. “The Legend. Why don’t you take that time to meet up with your old friends and we’ll get together later, huh?”

“You read my mind. Spoken like a true team,” Violet nodded.

“I know, I think I’m starting to feel my boobs grow a bit because I’m so soft,” Ben made himself laugh wholeheartedly and shook his head as he saw Violet’s “trying-not-to-show-it’s-funny” face.

“Aaaaand, there is is,” the woman rolled her eyes. “Alright, if I’m not back in the next three hours, consider me dead and find another safe house, deal?”

“Deal,” he nodded and watched as she walked out the door, covering her head with the hood of her sweater and putting on the biggest, most ridiculous pair of fucking giant sunglasses he had ever seen.

Chapter Text

As she stepped out on the pavement and into the bustling city, Violet readjusted her hood, lowering her head. She spotted her picture on a nearby lamppost and sighed. They were never going to stop using her for their benefits, even now that she was gone. She couldn’t believe she had let herself swim joyously in the fantasy that somewhere out there was an actual weapon which could kill Homelander. She had allowed herself to think that there’d be an easy way out, a way out, period. There was never going to be a way out of all of this. She believed there would be, somehow and now...She had another Supe like him hiding with her.

Well, Soldier Boy...Ben wasn’t really like him. At least that’s what her instincts told her.

She thought that, with a bit of convincing, she could still turn all of that mess around with his help. They were both out for revenge, so that had to count for something, right?

Shaking her head resolutely, Violet hastened her pace. Truth be told, she couldn’t wait to see The Boys again. She couldn’t wait to feel what it was like to feel like you belong somewhere, like you’re part of a whole. As unstable and rocky that whole was, she had her place among them. Her heartbeat quickened. Would she still have a place now?

She’d often thought about how she’d tell them she wanted back in, and, before they found Soldier Boy, she tried hinting at that, but every time she got close, she backed down. She’d spent hours pondering, imagining all the ways she’d finally be back with her found family.

Jesus, hiding had really done a number on her brain.

“Found family”, she rolled her eyes at herself and chuckled. “My ass.”

Still, when someone spends as much time alone as she had, they had time to think, overthink, everything through.

But this time was different.

She found herself looking up at the Flat Iron Building her heart about to beat out of her chest. At this time of day, she knew she’d most likely only find Butcher, or tops one other person with him there. She hoped they wouldn’t all be there, at least. There’d be too many questions, too many things to talk about.

No, with the Boys, she had to ease her way back in, that was certain. For their sake and hers.

Butcher would be here, for sure, sulking about. He did that a lot, she had realized the few times she’d watched him from afar.

As she stood behind the door to the office, she tilted her head back, closing her eyes and trying to settle her heartbeat and her breathing. She could hear muffled voices behind the door. Two, to be precise. She nodded as she tried listening in. One had a thick British accent she’d always unmistakeably know to be Butcher, the other one had a younger voice she allotted to Hughie. She raised her fist and knocked before she could even think of backing down, then, she pushed the door open, her body stiffening as both men turned to look at who had just barged in their office, looking disgruntled at the rudeness.

“Oi, it’s the polite thing to wait before-” Butcher lectured her before he realized she was there. His arms dropped to his sides and he slumped, his expression going from annoyance to one of shock with a tinge of sadness.

Hughie did a double take, then shifted his gaze towards Butcher, and, upon seeing how shaken the man was, turned back to Violet. His mouth was agape and his arms were still raised from the conversation he was having just seconds ago.

“Holy shit, Violet,” he breathed out, shaking his head as if he could shake off his confusion. He strode fast towards the entrance and clasped his arms around the woman, his grip tightening as he felt her shake out of stress. “Are you okay? What are you doing here? How did you know we were here?”

He let her out of his embrace, his hands still on her shoulders and he looked at her expectantly, his eyes scanning her features. He couldn’t believe she was standing there, and at arms length! She smiled warmly at him, her green eyes glinting at his. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Butcher tread slowly towards them.

“Hughie,” he simply said sternly which prompted the young man to take a step back from his friend. “We’ve got to make sure that’s her.”

“What? Butcher-”

“This ain’t the first time Vought’s used one of their Supe fucks to impersonate someone. I wouldn’t put it past them,” Billy cut off the younger man. He was trying to analyse the woman standing in the doorway, how she moved, how her face moved when she reacted to his words. He had thought too many times about Violet coming back, he had though of every chance there’d be that it wouldn’t be real. They had agreed that she wouldn’t come back until there was a bloody good reason to, and unless she knew about Soldier Boy, there was no good reason. Hell, things had worsened since she left, if anything, she should have hidden even better now.

“O...Okay,” Hughie concurred. “How are we gonna do that?”

“There’s only one way. And if that’s really Violet, I’m sorry.”

Violet looked into Butcher’s eyes, how could he not believe it was her? Of course it was her! Did he really not trust her, ever?

Her brain went to a dark, dark corner and she felt her heart pinch. Of course he didn’t. He took that vial and hid it from her.

She nodded bitterly and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the door frame trying to give herself a nonchalant appearance. She didn’t want to think about that.

“Alright, Violet,” he swaggered towards her, his eyes dark and brow furrowed. “If you’re really you, tell me ‘bout Edward.”

She jumped slightly, shaking her head and fighting back the tears already welling up. She clenched her jaw and looked at Billy pleadingly.

“No,” she refused. “Don’t make me do that.”

“So you know who he is, then. That reduces the possibilities.”

“Butcher, no. I’m not talking about Edward. You know why.”

Hughie, stood right in the middle of them, kept turning his head as the others took turns speaking.

“Who...Who’s Edward, Violet?” He finally asked, unconsciously inching towards Butcher. If that person wasn’t who they said they were, it was probably better to stand further away, he thought. Then again, how could it not be Violet? He saw it in her eyes, it was her. An impersonator, shapeshifter, whatever...They couldn’t emulate that, her essence, the resilience in her eyes.

She looked at him, her mouth twitching and opened her mouth then closed it and gulped. No way out of this one either, then.

“Ed...Edward is my brother. Twin brother,” Violet began, she felt as though the words were being pulled out of her with a rope dipped in glass shards. “He-”

Butcher listened closely, forcing himself not to trust the person in the doorway right away. He wanted to believe it was her with all his being. The Boys needed a win...He needed a win. But that was simply too good to be true.

“Go on,” he ordered.

“Cool it with the orders, William,” she said through clenched teeth, annoyed. “Edward’s the first person I discovered my abilities with. He had them, too. My parents made us believe it was a miracle that both their children had been gifted with powers. Turns out it was no miracle, just a fucking syringe. I’m glad he never knew that, it would’ve screwed with his mind. More than anything else, I think.”

“Violet...What happened?” Hughie asked softly. He took a few steps towards her. He couldn’t decide who he sided with, now. She looked truly disturbed at having to tell this story. She wasn’t looking at anybody now, just staring at a random shape on one of the floorboards. She had her arms around herself, her hand slowly going up and down her arms to soothe herself.

“He died,” Butcher replied before she could. “Now that’s the part where I know who you are. No one at Vought knows. No one but Stan Edgar and Homelander. Now, Edgar’s behind bars and I don’t think Homelander enjoys wearing other people’s bodies, so there only leaves one option. Answer wisely.”

Violet didn’t look up at him, which led Butcher to believe it could well and truly be her. There weren’t many things in life he was sorry for, but making Violet revisit that was always one of those.

“He was always the first person I told when I did something new. Funny thing is, the day he found out he could move things with his mind, I discovered I could make people do things with mine. ‘Course we were gonna have matching powers. Our parents imagined us twin Supes on top of all the charts, making movies, selling all kinds of bullshit so they’d never have to work another day in their lives. I...uh…”

Violet wanted to stop talking, but the words flowed out and she couldn’t stop. For years she refused to talk about it, and now that she finally did, it felt like Edward was standing in the room with her. She could see his face, she could even hear him laugh if she focused enough. She imagined what he’d have to say about all this, and he’d probably tell her to get a grip and stop crying over him, he’d been dead for over ten years, for fuck’s sake.

She smiled bitterly and spoke again.

“We were kids. We didn’t think we’d never have enough time together to-”

“Violet,” Hughie cut her off, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him, teary eyed. “I believe you.”

She smiled at him.

“Butcher, I’m really gonna kick your ass after this,” she teased him and the man caught himself smiling. “Alright, you really are one stubborn fuck.”

Billy nodded and grabbed a glass of what Violet assumed wasn’t water, he downed it and set the glass back on a desk, leaning against it.

“Edward died because of me,” Violet finally confessed, a restrained sob stuck in her throat. “He’s the first person I ever killed.”

Hughie pulled his hand back in shock. He stumbled back a little, hitting a desk with his legs and steadying himself on it. He had so many questions, but, before he could answer them, he felt Butcher’s shoulder shove him out of his way as the man pushed past him to strongly pull the woman into his arms into a tight, tight embrace. The woman looked surprised, blinking slowly as her arms went around Billy, squeezing him as hard as she could without breaking his ribs.

He could feel her shaking in his arms, and he realized just how much of a toll telling this story had on her. She had her head buried in his chest and he placed a long kiss on top of it. His fingers gripped her arms firmly as he pulled her back to look at her face. She gave him a sad smile and nodded at him, her eyes in his. But before long, she took a deep breath and she seemed back to normal, resolute and composed. She took a step back and sat on the sofa, looking out the windows.

“So you believe her, then, Butcher?” Hughie asked after a little while.

“I do,” the English man announced and Violet turned her gaze back on him. “That’s Violet. The Boys’ own favourite missing Supe.”

“But-”

Hughie started and stopped, walking towards the sofa and sitting beside her.

“I have so many questions,” he admitted. “But I guess I’ll just stick to this one. Are you okay?”

Violet nodded, her lips stretching into a soft smile. Just as she was about to answer, the three of them heard a loud, louder than they’d heard in a while, explosion coming from a few blocks away. It was so loud they could have sworn they’d even felt it from here. Violet jumped up from her seat, she immediately knew who was responsible for this. How could it be a simple coincidence?

“Let’s go,” she urged them, her chin pointing at the door.

Hughie slid a bag on his shoulder, striding fast towards the exit, with the young woman on his heel. Butcher grabbed the latter by the hood of her sweatshirt, pulling her back. She turned angrily towards him, her brows in a knot, about to tell him off.

“Me and the lad’ll go see what that’s about,” Butcher cut her off sternly. She knew there was no arguing. “You, young miss “Vought’s still lookin’ for me”, are staying here. Safe and sound. There’s bound to be some of their people over there already, so back in hiding it is for ya’.”

Violet tried arguing nevertheless, but agreed on staying behind. At least she stayed behind until they had gotten just ahead enough so they wouldn’t notice she was following them, and then left the office. If Ben had just blown up a whole street, she’d want to know.

The Boys were going to have questions, would she answer them?

Chapter Text

She didn’t know why she hadn’t told Butcher about Ben right away, that had been her plan all along. She didn’t know why she was running towards The Legend’s place to get there faster than her former teammates either, but she ran like her life depended on it.

Soon enough, she was banging on the man’s door like a maniac, and he opened it, looking guilty as ever. Violet pushed her way in and began examining her surroundings to try and figure out if Ben could have come back after blowing up a whole block earlier.

“Violet? I thought you were dead,” the man exclaimed, sitting in what appeared to be an attempt at being nonchalant way.

She snickered.

“I know, seems like dead people are coming back a lot today, huh?” She headed towards the bedrooms, calling Ben’s name. “Where is he?”

“Soldier Boy hasn’t been here,” The Legend lied. “Soldier Boy’s dead!”

“Yeah, and I’m missing. That’s a lot of miracles for one day, yeah?” Violet placed herself in front of the man and looked fiercely into his eyes. “Don’t make me do it.”

The older man gulped, inching away from the woman and whimpering ridiculously as his back hit a wall.

“I don’t got all day, so, come on! Tell me why he was here.”

“He came to get his old suit back and asked what his old team members were up to, so I showed him and he left, slamming the fucking door.”

Violet patted the man’s sweaty cheek. She gave him a satisfied smile and stepped back a bit.

“By any chance, Legend, do you have one of my old suits?” The woman asked tentatively.

“I do. Well, I did. Soldier Boy took it with his. I didn’t think about it, really. Mostly because, when a guy like him asks you to do something, you do it.”

Violet smiled to herself, and, lacing her boot, she looked up at the old man and smirked.

“Atta boy,” she teased him, standing up and walking fast towards the door, she opened it and waved the man goodbye.

She had walked down two flights of stairs when she heard Butcher and Hughie’s voices. From the looks of it, it seemed like M.M had joined them. In a moment of clarity, Violet ran up the two flights separating her from The Legend’s place and opened his door again. He was sat on his sofa, snorting a line of some new popular drug. He threw his rolled up dollar bill and it fell on the floor.

“God damn it! You again?” He exclaimed angrily. “What is it this time?”

He stood up and was immediately met with Violet’s green eyes locking into his, and he felt like a warm cloud of peace and comfort surrounded him. He couldn’t take his eyes off hers even though it was all he wanted to do. He could hear himself scream from inside his mind, urging himself to fight whatever he was feeling right now. Her voice was like fruits dipped in honey, irresistible. His brain was at peace but his whole body felt like it burned, he both hated and loved what was happening. Soon, his body gave up fighting and he surrendered to Violet. What she wished for he would give her.

“Alright Legend, I know this hurts but it’ll only last a minute,” Violet began, her voice like music to his ears. “I was never here, Soldier Boy only took his suit. Forget you saw me today. Psyche is missing.”

The Legend nodded blissfully, and, as soon as Violet left his apartment, he resumed what he was doing before, tutting at himself for letting the dollar bill fall. She waited until Butcher, Hughie and M.M were inside to leave the building, making her way towards her hideout.

She found Ben wandering in a nearby street, looking like hell. His eyes were red, and he was blabbering to himself. He didn’t look hurt, which, when she thought about it, was fairly obvious. Still, she was worried. But his clothes were ripped at the chest, leaving a giant, explosion shaped hole on his torso, leaving no doubt as to who had really caused it. When his eyes fell on her, he let his bag fall on the dirty pavement, and he fell to his knees. Violet hastened her pace to help him up. When he was back on his feet, she picked up the bag and helped him inside. She sat him down and locked the doors, finally taking her hood off, throwing the sweatshirt onto the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Violet asked, uselessly checking for wounds. “You look like shit.”

Soldier Boy snickered which prompted Violet to look up at him. She was on her knees in front of him, one hand on his chest and the other lifting the remains of his shirt. She could feel his breath on her neck, and she tried not think about how much she enjoyed that.

“I feel like shit,” Soldier Boy confessed. “What happened?”

Violet frowned, fearing another one of his unpredictable reactions, she reluctantly pulled away, standing up and far from him as she explained what had just gone down.

“What do you remember?” She asked after a bit. They were in no rush, she had to remind herself. They were both back in the safety of their safehouse. In the wobbly safety of one another.

“Leaving Legend’s place. I had my suit, oh! And yours,” Ben began, frantically searching for his bag as he spoke.

Violet lifted the bag in her hand so he could see it.

“Got ‘em,” she told the man and he went back to his tale.

“Then, nothing. Nothing until you.”

Violet nodded, her features grave and serious.

“Until you found me on the street, I mean.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

Violet crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot. She glanced at Ben, he looked tired. She sighed and took a gulp from the bottle of whiskey they had here. When she averted her gaze, Ben’s fell on her. Once he was done with his revenge, he’d take his sweet time helping her with hers. They made a good team. Better than what he had with Payback. Well, Payback was really no comparison. They all hated each other there. He thought they all loved him, but they were all just a bunch of pathetic SOBs who betrayed him. No, this didn’t feel like she was forcing herself to be nice to him. This didn’t feel fake, was what it was. Violet wasn’t fake.

“How’d it go with your guys? Better than me?” Ben asked after a while. Violet grabbed her suit out of the bag and looked at it from all angles.

“It went...as one might expect.”

“So..wrong?”

The woman shook her head.

“No. It was quick and painful, just another Wednesday morning.”

Ben chortled. They went silent for a while and sat, passing the bottle of whisky from one to the other, sipping pensively. Ben hissed in pain, which prompted Violet to turn her head swiftly at him. She tentatively lifted her hand and hovered it above his muscular shoulder, but decided against it, his words from the first night they met echoing in her brain. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

She gulped and analysed his pained expression. His green eyes were fixed on the floor, his brow furrowed, a little drop of sweat on the tip of his straight nose. She got up, slowly walking towards him and lowered herself to meet his gaze. He lifted his chin, their eyes locking. He tried to look calm, at ease, but it felt like his whole body was burning from the inside, like he was going to blow up again.

“Ben?” Violet ventured.

His jaw was clenched, she could see it twitching.

“Are you alright?” Her voice was soft, worried. The man shook his head and stood up, shoving her as he walked past her to place a hand on the wall, looking out the window.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Violet, you need to leave.”

“What?”

“Leave!” He shouted, his voice so loud the woman jumped back. But she didn’t leave. “Violet, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

The woman let out a loud, sincere laugh and Ben turned to face her, annoyed at her reaction.

“Is this what that’s about?” She laughed again. “You don’t want me to see you weak?”

He didn’t reply, and she knew she’d hit a nerve.

“I don’t give a shit about that. Hell, Ben, you were weak the day we met, I-”

“I am not weak!” He shouted again. “Soldier Boy was never known to be a pussy! And today will not be the day.”

“If you would’ve just let me finish,” Violet cut him off with annoyance in her voice. “You would’ve heard me say that even then, you weren’t really weak. Let a woman finish a sentence, next time, you prick.”

He smiled to himself, breathing in through his nose. He did survive forty years of torture, he had to remind himself. The little pain he was feeling now was nothing compared to that. His vision became clearer and he stood straighter.

“And I might sound like a pussy to you saying that but, it’d be brave of you to show a little weakness, from time to time. Some might even find it hot,” Violet admitted, still mocking his use of the word pussy in the meantime. He really needed some new words in his vocabulary.

“Some?” He lifted his eyebrow and good old cocky Soldier Boy was back. “Or you?”

He found it quite fun to tease her. He liked how the tips of her ears reddened when he did so. How she always snickered and then looked away for a little while. She flipped him off, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Up yours, SB,” she shook her head, and lifted her finger to prevent him from talking as she saw him open his mouth with a sly smile on his lips. “Don’t.”

They laughed.

“What did The Legend have to say, then? Where to?” Violet tilted her head, waiting for an answer, her old Supe suit in her hand, eagerly waiting for her to put it back on.

Chapter Text

“You know The Legend’s ratted me out to your friends by now, right?” Ben looked at Violet briefly. They were hidden behind a car, near The Crimson Countess’s place in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Why do you think we’re hiding, genius?” Violet teased him.

“I know why I am. I don’t know why you’re hiding. They’re your friends, shouldn’t you be with them, instead of me?”

“Would probably be smarter, yeah. But they don’t know I know about you just yet.”

“Know about me? Violet, you’re the one who gripped me by the balls and drove me outta there.”

They exchanged a knowing, amused look.

“I mean, you shook the confusion outta me and-”

“I know what you mean, dumbass.” She rolled her eyes, then nudged him with her elbow. “Besides, I think they might’ve figured out something was up when they came back and I wasn’t around any more.”

“Think they put two and two together?”

She shook her head no. Then, she stiffened and nudged him with her elbow, pointing her chin towards the small cabin. Something was moving in there. The Countess wasn’t alone. Violet had no clue what would happen when they’d come in, but she knew one thing: it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

“Alright. I’m going in there. You go around the back, check if there’s anything, anyone. Meet me out front after. Okay?”

Ben looked focused, strong. One thing was for sure, it was better to be on his side than against him. And, that suit fit him like a damn glove. Violet stood up and walked discreetly around the place, circling it to make sure no one was there. But before she could reach the back, she spotted her old teammates in the front. She had to stop herself from running there, because Ben was heading there confidently, facing a furrowed-browed Butcher. It felt like two worlds colliding. Two titans who should never have come in contact. Her heart pounded in her chest.

Ben glanced at where Violet was supposed to be, noticing she wasn’t there, and his mind immediately went to betrayal. For a second there, he was sure she’d turn her back on him, for her old friends’ sake. Then, quickly scanning the surroundings he spotted her, hiding behind some kind of rusty barrel and his thoughts settled down. He knew she was better than this. Better than that cowardly bitch Countess in there, better than Payback. Better than him.

He looked deeply angry, and the tension there could be cut with a butter knife. One wrong move and Butcher would be dead.

Violet’s eyes wandered and fell upon M.M, lying on the floor, right beside the two men. She froze. Was he alright? What happened there? Fuck.

Subreptitiously, Ben lifted a finger, and she interpreted it as an order not to move an inch. She didn’t.

“I was thinking that you and I, come to a little arrangement,” she heard Butcher suggest. “What you lot call...a team up.”

Her mind was rushing, what on earth was Butcher’s plan? She watched as Ben entered the cabin, her heart in her throat at that point. Then, she finally mustered up enough courage to leave her hiding place and walk towards the front, trying to look as fierce, as confident, as she could.

Butcher was smoking a cigarette, his head lifted towards the sky. He let out a relieved sigh and closed his eyes. The pebbles on the ground cracked under Violet’s foot and he opened his eyes quickly, reaching for his gun.

The woman was crouched beside M.M, checking his pulse. Billy shook his head.

“’Course you knew,” he let out, seeming disappointed. “You’ve known for quite sometime, haven’t ya?”

Violet didn’t reply until she made sure M.M was indeed alive and safe. She felt as though she were treading on eggshells. The man she’d known for so long didn’t urge her to answer, he simply looked at her, trying to figure out which side she was on. His hand was still on his gun, although he very much knew it wouldn’t do much if he ever were to take on Violet.

“I’ve known for as long as you have,” she finally admitted.

Butcher chortled.

“Right.”

“And I’m not gonna make any kind of excuse as to why-”

“I don’t expect you to.”

They faced each other, the same tension from earlier still very much thick in the air. He did expect her to justify her actions, in some way. But he’d be caught dead before he asked.

“William-”

“Don’t “William” me, alright, Violet?”

“Don’t “Violet” me either then, Butcher.”

They stood there, facing each other for a short while, before Violet broke that awful silence again.

“You’re offering him an alliance, then?”

Butcher nodded, handing her a cigarette, which she happily took and lit.

“I am,” he admitted.

Violet nodded, her arms crossed over her chest.

“And I take it you’re not telling me shit unless I do, huh?”

“That I ain’t,” Butcher concluded and he opened his mouth to speak but before he could do so, The Countess’s place went up in flames, a loud explosion just mere meters from them. Violet crouched over M.M to protect him from any debris, and Butcher did the same over her, without a second thought. The two of them got up, a loud ringing noise in their ears. The man put his friend over his shoulder and carried him farther from the now-destroyed cabin, Violet walking right behind him.

She tugged at his coat to force him to turn around and look at her.

“You okay?” She asked, clearly worried and the man nodded. She sighed, relieved. Her turned her back again and she grabbed him by the shoulder, her face inches from his now. “For the record, Billy, I am on your side. Always.”

His eyes softened a bit.

“I know,” he reassured her. “Right now I’m more focused on getting your ticking time-bomb of a boyfriend to settle down and maybe then we’ll talk more. Alright?”

“Right,” Violet tried to smile, but her thoughts were going a million miles per second. She didn't even think to object to whhat Butcher had just suggested, her mind, at that moment, was on their safety. Just as she almost found her footing again, Hughie and Annie came running. Hughie shot her a questioning look, his eyes shifting from her to M.M. Annie didn’t see her for a minute, until Ben...Until Soldier Boy walked out of the burning ruins unscathed and Violet couldn’t stop herself from inching closer to him and further from the rest of them. He took a few steps towards the group, then stopped next to Violet, leaning against her for support to steady himself. Smoke was coming from his warm body, but his suit was pristine. Like nothing happened. He nodded at her, and she did the same.

Annie went into battle mode and almost blasted at them but Hughie stepped in front of her, preventing her to do so. That’s when she recognized the woman standing besides Soldier Boy, her hand supporting his back. The first time she was seeing a woman she once considered her friend for so long. The last time she’d consider her a friend at all. To her, Violet wasn’t Violet any more, she had partnered up with the Devil himself. Her heart broke, as much as it shot panic cooursing through her veins. Too much was happening for her to truly understand the implications.

“Hughie, what’re you doing?” She asked.

“Annie, listen,” he began. “We wanted a weapon. Soldier Boy’s our weapon.”

Ben stood up straight again, and began walking away, closely followed by Butcher. Violet stayed in place, turning towards M.M on the floor. She checked if he was still alright, and the realization that what she was doing would irreversibly harm their friendship, harm the man, dawned on her. She clenched her fist and sighed, turning resolutely away from him just as Hughie did the same from Annie, leaving her standing alone in front of the ruins. Standing alone with a drugged M.M. That image would haunt her for many nights to come. She’d be sure to add that to the list of things guaranteeing her a scorching hot place deep in the pits of hell.

Chapter Text

Butcher strode fast towards his car, fiddling with his keys as he waited for the others to catch up, the cold air slapping his face. He sniffled, his mouth was dry from the Temp-V. He patted his coat to look for a flask, but didn’t find one. He tutted. Soldier Boy caught up to him then turned around to check if Violet had followed him. Hughie and her were walking side by side and finally caught up to the two men.

“Took you long enough,” Butcher teased. “Chop chop, we’ve got work to do.”

He opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. Hughie automatically went to sit in the passenger seat, and was met with Violet’s body in the way. She had her arms crossed over her chest and shook her head. That used to be her spot, back in the day. Hughie smiled teasingly, and so did she.

“Come on, dickheads, we ain’t got all day,” Butcher urged them.

Hughie and Violet laughed and she slid in the back seat, next to Ben. She could see the look on Butcher’s face, and she knew he was in a bad place. Of course he would be, after everything. Still, she wondered how he found the strength to go on, some days. As Hughie buckled his seatbelt, Billy smiled nonetheless, amused at their bickering.

“Just like old times,” he said half-cheerfully.

Violet smiled at him in the rear-view mirror, then at Hughie, who did the same. The four of them drove away with only the sound from the radio filling the silent space of the car. They drove for a little while before they found a dingy motel to spend the night in.

“Alright, the two of you stay here while the lad and I get the rooms,” Butcher ordered as him and the younger man left the car. Violet looked down at her suit and nodded. It probably wouldn’t be very clever to show up to a motel in her suit, some might even say it would be tempting fate too much. Ben and her hadn’t said a word to each other since before he killed his former Payback partner and lover, and, truly, he didn’t even know what to say to her. He felt he had to, somehow. The two of them sat in silence again, visibly uncomfortable.

“Man, I’d kill for a cheeseburger right now,” was all Ben could think of saying. It was true, after all, he hadn’t had one in over forty years, and he was always in the mood for one when he came back from a mission.

Violet chuckled.

“You sure got a way with words, huh?” She teased him and he laughed.

“Yeah, what can I say? I’m a poet.” His smile creased his face and his eyes lit up again. The whole car ride there, his eyes had been dark, his jaw tense. He’d give anything for a good night’s sleep, too. Was he really such a terrible man that even his girlfriend at the time betrayed him? His friends, the people he’d associated with, he considered family, they betrayed him, and for what? Money? He refused to believe that. But, fair enough, they made their beds, and they would lie in them. They would die in them. If all it took was to partner up with some British guy would acted like the whole world belonged to him and some scrawny dude, then sure, he’d do it.

“Ben?” Violet ventured.

He nodded.

“You alright? I know, I know, you’re not some sissy who’s gonna talk about his feelings and whatnot-”

“But you’re gonna ask anyway?” He cut her off with a cocky smile.

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off if you like, I got used to it.”

“As much as I’d love that, your friends are back.”

Violet straightened and looked up at Butcher. He took off his coat and handed it to her.

“Wear this,” he ordered. “Hughie, give her your sweatshirt, will you?”

“Yup,” Hughie did as he was told and Violet slipped on the sweatshirt, pulling the hood on her head, then, she wrapped herself in Butcher’s coat and followed him to their motel room. Hughie and Ben followed, and the four of them gathered in the dirty room.

“What’s the game plan, then?” Violet asked, eager to start working again. She put her thumb in her mouth and began nibbling nervously on her nail, her leg bouncing rhythmically.

“Coke,” Ben let out. “I need coke, before anything else.”

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s wise, you know?” Hughie said, exchanging a concerned look with Butcher who then asked him to go fetch some sodas from a nearby vending machine.

“It’s not the eighties any more, Soldier Boy”, Butcher said coldly. “A lot’s changed.”

Ben crossed his arms, leaning on the round table in the middle of the room.

“What? You’re gonna also gonna tell me there’s no coke any more? Motherfu-”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No, no, rest assured, Ben, coke is still very much around,” Violet reassured him. “A lot’s changed, sure, but not that. Might just take a little longer than it did in your day.”

“My day? Well, fuck me, call me a dinosaur, too, will you?”

“Don’t tempt me,” the woman teased and Ben rolled his eyes. “Butcher, think you might be able to pull it off?”

Ben stood up and walked towards the bathroom, asking them through the door for fresh clothes, too. Butcher called Hughie, telling him to go fetch some clothes for their two new teammates and meet them back here. It was down to Violet and him now. Like the old days, when their whole team had all left and they were left to collect their empty beer bottles and cup noodles. He circled the room, glancing at the young woman from time to time. She was sat on the bed with her legs crossed, still nibbling on her thumb.

“Billy, is Kimiko…? Is she dead?” Violet asked, dreading his answer.

The man shook his head.

“No.”

The Supe let out an enormous relieved sigh, taking off Butcher’s coat at the same time, discarding it on the edge of the bed.

“She almost did, though. Your boyfriend sent her through two walls and she got impaled by a pipe. She didn’t heal. We barely got her to a hospital. But, she pulled through.”

“Not my-”

“But you were there, weren’t you? You saw that?” Butcher now seemed to question her, swaggering about the room, his dark eyes piercing hers.

“I got...him back to the U.S,” Violet confessed. “Haven’t left his side since. Except…”

“Except for that one time he blew up half a street. Shame, isn’t it?”

They stayed silent for a while, the sound of the shower filling the room.

“Just like shooting up some untested drug from Vought’s a shame, isn’t it?” Violet argued. “You know, it’s one thing to do it, but to bring Hughie into it too? That’s a different level of fucked up, you know that, right?”

Butcher turned around angrily, his brow furrowed. He pointed his finger threateningly.

“Don’t you dare tell me what’s fucked up. The kid’s an adult, he made that choice for himself,” he spoke loudly.

“If that makes you feel better about yourself, keep thinking it. But you know deep down that’s not the truth.”

“And what is it, then, huh? What is the truth, Violet? Why did you come back?” He spat angrily.

The door to the bathroom opened and Ben left the steaming room in a towel wrapped around his midriff.

“Am I interrupting something here?” He asked nonchalantly.

Butcher scoffed and shook his head, grabbing his coat from the edge of the bed where Violet was still sitting on.

“No, nothing important,” he stated, his eyes starring daggers at the woman.

“Where’s that little bitch dude, then? Still not back?” Ben inquired, his stomach growling.

And, as if on cue, Hughie opened the door with a bag of clothes and two paper bags from Vought-a-burger. He set them all on the table, smiling uncomfortably at Ben.

“The...the coke’s gonna be here tomorrow morning, I’ll drop it off,” he announced.

Ben grunted but still reluctantly thanked the young man.

“Alright, so Hughie and I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning. In the meantime, don’t leave. No going back to your old safehouse. Deal?” Butcher said, trying to soothe his tone. He had just gotten Violet back, it would be dumb to screw it up now. He knew she was right, too. And he knew she must have had a good reason to come back now, he just wished things would have been different. He just wished she hadn’t turned up with Soldier Boy. The guy was made from the same stuff as Homelander, eventually they’d have to find a way to kill him too. This only made it more difficult.

“Didn’t plan to,” Violet answered coldly.

Of course, she wasn’t going to make life any easier for him, he thought bitterly. Still, he’d rather have her here, bickering and forcing him to own up to his own shit, rather than somewhere all alone in the world, away from them all.

Chapter Text

“I was interrupting something, wasn’t I?” Ben asked when Violet and him were alone in the motel room.

The woman nodded, but didn’t answer. Instead, she turned on the TV and sat back on the edge of the bed.

“I love that man, I do. He’s the closest thing I’ll ever get to a father, but, fuck, he’s a cunt,” Violet admitted. “A fucking cunt.”

“A lovely fucked up family, feels just like home,” Ben answered bitterly. “Hey, what do you say we get drunk, forget about that for the night?”

Violet clutched her heart, faking over-joyousness.

“Goodness me,” she laughed. “A man after my own heart.”

Violet opened one of the bags Hughie brought in, and spotted a bottle of tequila in the bottom of it. She pulled it out with a smile, opened it and took a long swig, letting the liquid slide down her throat, burning as it did. She let out a sigh, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

“Bless you, Hughie Campbell,” she exclaimed. “Here, your turn.”

She handed Ben the bottle, he sniffed the liquid and turned his nose.

“Eugh, I don’t know how you drink that,” he said, still drinking it anyway. “Think you can outdrink me, sweetcheeks?”

Violet chortled.

“Any day, you old fig,” she answered, taunting him.

Violet swiped the bottle from Ben’s hand, putting its tip on her mouth and tilting it back, under his amused gaze. She strode towards the edge of the bed and plopped on it, looking around the room. For a dingy motel room, it wasn’t so bad. Or maybe she was just used to tiny dirty rooms, now. Not to mention the smell. And, for once, it didn’t smell like anything weird. Just...tequila and dust. Not really the kind of smell you’d want in a scented candle but, still, not so terrible. Hughie had brought her a set of fresh clothes, too, and she revelled in the warm feeling of a comfortable hoodie wrapped around her body. Ben had changed, too. He was wearing a sports jersey, and, man, did that make him look good.

No, no. Violet shook her head. She shouldn’t let the tequila cloud her mind. He was a dangerous Supe with PTSD and the temper of a fucking boar. A fucking boar with the hands of a Greek God. Trying to clear her mind, she shifted, sitting with her legs crossed. She took out a cigarette and lit it, nodding towards Ben with the pack in her hand, silently asking if he wanted one. He walked over to her, his eyes in hers, and slowly took one out of the pack, put it in his mouth. He stuck it between his lips and fiddled with the lighter, his green eyes looking at Violet through his eyelashes, then, he handed her the pack and the lighter back, pulling a chair out from under the table and sitting near the edge of the bed.

“C’mon, how do you plan on passing time while we get drunk?” The man asked plainly, his eyes wandering towards the sitcom playing on the TV. “Don’t tell me you wanna spend the whole night rotting in front of that God awful shit.”

Violet frowned slightly.

“Well…I happen to like that God awful shit, dickwad. But, I’m all ears if you’ve got anything better?”

Ben grunted, shifting in his seat.

“In my day-”

“Oh, don’t complain when you get called old if you start saying shit like that, Ben,” Violet cut him off, smirking at him.

He laughed, then sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck, you’re right.”

“As terrifying as that sounds, that does happen.”

Ben chortled.

“What a fucking terrifying prospect,” he teased her and she lifted her middle finger at him.

“Up yours, little soldier dick,” she answered with a small smile.

“Oh, no, darling, up yours,” Ben said cockily, his eyes glinting.

Violet handed him the bottle in order for him to shut up, and he took it, happily taking a swig.

“Okay, here me out,” Violet said tentatively.

Ben nodded.

“All ears.”

“I ask questions, you answer them. If you don’t wanna answer, you drink,” Violet offered and Ben snickered.

“What are we? Highschoolers?”

“No, no, I know, but, hey! You wanted to do something, here’s something.”

Ben sighed, he wouldn’t tell Violet, but the idea amused him. It had been a while since drinking hadn’t just been for fun. Now, he drank to forget, to numb his brain. If he could drink and get Violet to talk, now, that, was interesting.

“Fine, only if you answer some questions, too.”

Violet agreed and leaned back on the bed, thinking for a bit. From there, she could hear Ben’s steady breathing, and the sound of his hands searching in the paper bag from Vought-a-burger, looking for some leftover food.

“Alright. Here goes. Ben, and don’t go crazy if you don’t like my questions, okay?” Violet paused, an eyebrow lifted and the man nodded. “Right. When’s the last time you had sex, then?”

Ben chortled, then drank from the bottle.

“Forty. Fucking. Years,” he enunciated.

“You know you’re supposed to drink only if you don’t wanna answer, right?”

“Yeah. I just had to drink to make up for the fact that I haven’t touched a woman for four fucking decades,” he laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, makes sense,” Violet chuckled. “Your turn, virgin.”

He gave her a dark look and nudged her.

“Okay, I see how it is. You wanna play, sweetcheeks? We’ll play,” he threatened with a smile. “When’s the last time you had any kind of meaningful human contact?”

“Whoa, heading straight for the throat there, are we?” Violet paused. “I don’t know. Define meaningful.”

“When's the last time you had a relationship that lasted longer than a night?”

“Ouch.”

Ben handed her the bottle, but she didn’t take it.

“Six years, I think. So, technically, I beat you.”

“Real fuckin’ easy to beat a guy that was locked up, Violet,” Ben rolled his eyes.

“A win is a win,” she laughed. “Why did you stick with me, once we got back to the US? Why didn’t you go your way?”

Ben drank, and Violet expected him to answer but he didn’t. He knew why he stayed, of course. He hated it, but he somehow felt like he owed her his new freedom, his new safety. He didn’t want to go his own way, he’d gotten used to the pain in the ass she was, and...he liked having her around.

Violet nodded and grabbed the bottle from him, drinking too.

“Why did you turn against Vought?” He asked all of a sudden.

She shifted uncomfortably and laid her head on a pillow, fully lying down, staring at the ceiling.

“Well, first off, they’re cunts. Then, I guess I had enough of being puppeteered around by a bunch of suits who had no care for the lives of any one but them.”

“How could they manipulate you? With your abilities, you could’ve just told them to fuck off and they’d do it?”

“Well, no. It’s not that easy.”

“How so?”

“We all have a weakness, some thing we can’t do. Stick a finger in The Deep’s gills and he stops breathing eventually, cut off power and Starlight’s just a freakishly strong blond, you know?”

“I..don’t. Those assholes in the lab made sure of it.”

Violet paused, feeling her heart break for Ben. She couldn’t imagine the pain he went through.

“You know what’s the worst thing about all this?” He began, feeling like he could open up, finally. Sure, he’d regret it in the morning, he’d feel weak for saying it out loud. He’d resent Violet for it, even if it wasn’t her fault. But he had to admit to it, to confess.

“Don’t tell me something you don’t want me to know, Ben,” Violet reassured him, seeing the internal struggle in his eyes. The strain it had on him. He brushed it aside, straightening his back.

“I...I caved,” he began, a lump forming in his throat. “Begged them, begged, for them to kill me. To put an end to all that pain. But they laughed. They laughed, Violet!”

“I’m...sorry, Ben,” Violet said honestly, leaving the bed to stand next to him, her hand hovering over his shoulder. “Can I..?”

He looked up at her and nodded silently, closing his eye in relief as he felt her hand touch his shoulder, then her arms wrap around his back. She was standing behind the chair he was sat on, and she could feel his breath grow more and more unsteady, she could feel him try to calm himself down.

“I really am sorry you went through that. You might have been the biggest cunt to walk the earth back in the day, but you didn’t deserve that.” Violet spoke softly, her hand going up and down his back to soothe him.

He got up suddenly, which made Violet jump back a bit. He was still unstable, anything could trigger him, anything could set him off. She looked at him, her lips slightly open, her heart beating fast. Then, he wrapped his arms around her and put his head in the warmth of her neck, his grip strong. Violet wrapped her arms around him again, surprised at the unexpected turn that night took.

Chapter Text

“Here, sit,” Violet offered Ben when she felt his breath had gotten steadier. “And, for the record, I think any one would have, you know that right? If you ask me, it shows how truly brave you are. How resilient. How strong.”

Ben did as she told him, sitting on the edge of the bed, kicking his shoes off and shuffling towards the pillows. He rested his head on one of them and took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he simply stated.

Violet took her shoes off too and looked around the room.

“Yeah, sure.”

“No, I mean, thank you for being that...nice to me. I don’t think anybody’s been nice to me...ever, without having ulterior motives.”

“Well, that’s because you’re an asshole,” she teased him, trying to diffuse the tension and he smiled. She felt relieved to see him smile. “And, I could have ulterior motives, too.”

He shook his head.

“If I caught a whiff of that, you’d already be dead,” he said seriously.

“I know.”

“Good. Don’t...don’t betray me, Violet.”

“If I do, then that means I’m not worth more than those cunts at Vought. And there’s no way in heaven or hell that’s ever going to happen.”

Ben nodded, seemingly content with her answer.

“I’m never drinking with a woman ever again,” he declared with a hand on his forehead. “I’m feeling my period coming on already.”

As he finished his sentence, he felt a pillow crash in his face and he tucked it under his head. Violet smiled at him, with a tinge of annoyance on her face.

“What’s wrong with drinking with me?”

“Nothing. I don’t usually drink with a good-looking woman like you unless I want to get in her bed.”

“Oh,” Violet blushed against her will.

“Not that I don’t want to, by the way.”

Violet rolled her eyes. Soldier Boy was back. She smiled to herself.

“And break your forty year virginity streak? I don’t know if I’m worthy,” she teased him.

Ben laughed.

“Fuck you, Violet.”

“You wish.”

They stayed silent for a short while, and Violet climbed into the bed next to him, stealing back the pillow she threw him from under his head and placing it under hers. For the time they had spent in hiding together, they had to share a bed from time to time, reluctantly at first, but then, once they got used to each other’s snoring, they didn’t mind it. Ben found it somewhat comforting, to have her, sleeping away next to him. Mostly because it meant she couldn’t tell him to fuck off, then.

“So, uh...Truth or drink?” Violet asked playfully after a while, trying to diffuse the tension.

Ben chuckled.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are ya?”

She shook her head.

“C’mon,” she nudged him. “Aren’t you curious about some things too?”

“Too, huh?” Ben looked up at Violet with a sly smile. “You curious about me, sweetcheeks?”

The woman smiled to herself, then sat up a bit, leaning towards the bottle of tequila and taking another sip, then tutting when she realized she had finished it.

“Well, party’s over I guess,” she announced.

“Shit, I guess we’ll have to find other ways to distract ourselves,” Ben feigned to be upset. He put his arm under his head and sighed contentedly.

“C’mon, what do you wanna know?” He asked, tilting his body towards hers.

His thigh brushed against her leg and he let it stay there, enjoying the warmth of her body so close to his.

“Was anything Vought said about you true?” Violet asked innocently. “Or was it all fake?”

“It was mostly embellished. I’m sure you know they’re pros at twisting facts for their storylines. But some things were true.”

“Like what?”

“I was born in Philadelphia.”

“Oh, well that’s great to know,” Violet teased. “That’ll help me sleep tonight.”

The woman chuckled and Ben soon did the same.

“Asshole,” he said with a smile. “I didn’t grow up poor. Quite the opposite, really. But I did want to do something good with my life. I wanted to be something good. Something, someone my old man would be proud of.”

“Something tells me that wasn’t quite the case, huh?”

Ben tutted and shook his head, biting his lower lip.

“Nothing was ever good enough for him. Let alone his own son. You know, I always told myself if I had a kid of my own, I’d never let that happen. I’d tell them all fucking day how proud I was. Even if my kid turned out shitty, they’d never know it.”

Violet turned to face Ben, lying on her side, her face inches from his arm, still tucked under his head. He was staring at the roof while he spoke, looking deep in thought.

“I guess it could’ve been worse, you know?” He concluded.

“It could’ve. Doesn’t mean it was okay, Ben.”

He turned to look at her and nodded.

“I know. I wish I told him to go fuck himself, at least once in my life.”

Violet nodded, thinking.

“You know, you still can.”

“Yeah, how?”

“When all this is over, and you still haven’t got sick of my face-”

“I don’t see that happening. It’s a great face you got.”

Violet nudged him, smiling and trying to conceal the fact she was blushing. Ben saw that and smiled.

“Thanks. As I was saying, when all this is over, we’ll go to your cunt of a father’s grave and you’ll tell him to go fuck himself.”

“Woman, are you trying to make me fall in love with you?” Ben teased and laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re absolutely off your rockers, you know that?”

He couldn’t stop laughing.

“But yeah, we’ll do that,” he promised when he finally stopped laughing. “Is there something like that you’d like to do, too? While we’re at it?”

Violet was silent for a while, truly thinking about it. Then, the words left her mouth before she could stop them.

“My brother,” she admitted.

“You wanna tell your brother to go fuck himself?” Ben sat up and Violet chuckled.

“No. As surprising as it is, I don’t want to tell the whole world to get fucked, you know?”

Ben nodded, lighting another cigarette, gesturing for her to go on.

“I want to go see him. His grave. I’ve never been,” the woman confessed sadly.

“How did he-”

“I did,” she cut him off, having foreseen his question. “And he begged me not to.”

“Fuck, Violet.”

“Whatever you’re gonna say isn’t gonna be worse than what I’ve been telling myself for the past ten years. But..I don’t want to revisit it again. Butcher’ll fill you up on that, if you ask him. I’ll tell him you’re safe to know. Tell him I trust you.”

Ben didn’t say anything, instead, he took another drag of his cigarette, lifting his arm from under his head and placing his hand behind Violet’s head, cradling it, his thumb gently brushing her hair.

“What was he like?”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah. Tell me ‘bout him,” Ben said gently and Violet closed her eyes, letting him caress her hair.

“Edward was always hopeful. He was solar. My guiding light, of some sort. I always turned to him when things went to shit. And he was funny. He was the best person to ever walk the Earth. It’s quite unfair how he was the good one and I’m still here, you know?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works. Life’s not based on merit, sweetheart.”

Violet closed her eyes and nuzzled ever so slightly against Ben’s arm.

“We’ll do that too, then. And then you’ll tell me about it all,” he offered.

“I think I’d like that.”

Ben looked into Violet’s eyes, and he felt the urge to hold her close. To take all her pain away. He put out his cigarette in the ashtray and placed both his hands on her cheeks, his eyes locked into hers. Violet felt as though the air was filled with electricity, his touch was warm, almost too warm, but she craved more of it, still. She inched closer to him and tugged on his shirt, bringing him closer to her. They were so close they could feel each other’s breaths on their necks.

Violet lifted her hand to cup Ben’s cheek, but stopped before she touched him.

“It’s alright, Violet, you can touch me,” he whispered. “Please, do.”

She ran her hand through his hair and he let out a tiny gasp, it was a feeling he thought he’d never feel again. And to feel it from Violet’s hand? Heavenly. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against her, his lips parted.

Ben sat up on his knees, towering slightly over her, her back pressed on the wall, her eyes locked in his. He pulled her to him and gently put his lips on hers, kissing her softly, waiting to see if she’d answer, half expecting a punch to the gut and a kick to the nuts. Luckily, Violet’s lips moved under his, and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him gently at first, then tugging at his lip with her teeth.

They stayed there, their foreheads touching, taking shorts breaks from kissing, then doing it again, for a little while. It felt peaceful, and they wondered why they hadn’t done that before.

Chapter Text

Wrapped up in each other, Ben and Violet only parted lips to come up for air, his hands roamed her body hurriedly, greedily. He knew doing this probably meant trouble for their shaky, unstable, relationship, but, to hell with the consequences, he wanted Violet. He wanted her closer, deeper. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even closer, her hands scratching the back of his head, which made him let out a low sound, almost like a purr. That made her melt and she would have done anything he asked her, right then. She realized how dangerous Ben was for her, how much room he had taken in her life, how, if they went any further, it wouldn’t be anything like the many meaningless nights they had both known with strangers. Somehow, she still wanted to throw caution to the wind and ride that man until sunrise as if her life depended on it.

She pulled away slightly, catching her breath. Ben looked at her with a mixture of lust and tenderness, his breath heavy. He lifted his hand, caressing it with his thumb, leaning to kiss her forehead.

God, the look she had on her face could have made him come right there. He wanted to see her lose control, see her squirm under his touch, hear her whisper into his ear as he’d give her the best night of her life. As she’d give him the best night of his life.

But he didn’t have time to care for someone like this. He didn’t want to care for someone like this, not after the last person he thought he cared for betrayed him. Not after he killed that person.

“You’re dangerous, Violet,” he whispered in her ear softly, his forehead still pressed against hers. “So fuckin’ dangerous for me.”

“Started thinking too, huh?” The woman simply answered, a small nervous laugh leaving her lips.

He nodded, sliding back next to her, laying on his back, his head turned towards her.

“Yeah...Mind if we slow this down?” He knew he’d hate himself for that, he knew there’d only be a small window for this to ever happen with Violet, and he had just shut it. Still, he also felt she deserved more than one night in some smelly motel room. Violet was the kind of woman you’d take to a cabin near a lake, light a fire, get under the blankets and make love to for the whole night. Slowly, taking sweet, sweet time. Then make her breakfast the next morning.

That’s how he would have done it, at least, if they’d met at the right time.

“’Course I don’t,” Violet answered softly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. And don’t get me wrong, this is everything I want right now. But I-”

“There’s no need to justify it, Ben.”

“No, I know. I don’t want you to think it’s you. It’s not.”

“It’s okay,” she comforted him, seeing how he was starting to get in his own head. “I don’t think this would have been such a good idea anyway.”

They both nodded silently and Ben focused on the TV, still playing some kind of show he had never heard of. He chuckled. Of course he wouldn’t have heard about it.

“What’s this bullshit?” He asked and Violet shifted her gaze from the ceiling to the TV. She laughed.

“That?” She pointed at the small screen. “It’s Friends.”

“Friends? What kind of dumbass would wanna watch a show called Friends?”

“Hey, don’t judge,” she nudged him.

“You like that kinda shit?”

“I do.”

Ben laughed.

“Why?”

“It’s comforting. There’s no Supes in it, just...plain, regular people who love each other and find themselves in-”

“In situations where they put dead turkeys on their heads? Jesus, Violet, and I thought you were a smart woman.” He interrupted her, laughed again.

“I’ll give you this, sometimes the storylines don’t make any kind of sense, but I think that’ what makes it such a comfortable show, you know? Give it a go, I’m sure you’ll like it….If you put your brain on hold for a little bit.”

Ben frowned lightly, but still sat through seven episodes. He was way more into this than he would have thought. They had brought the remaining leftovers from earlier in the bed with them, eating and chatting as the episodes played.

“You know what?” Ben said, a handful of French fries in his fist. “I don’t think that Rachel girl and...what’s his name?” He pointed at the screen.

“Ross?”

“Yeah. I don’t think they should be together, you know? Rachel should be with someone like Joey.”

Violet smiled, amused at Ben’s insight. It was kind of cute how much he had gotten into it. She never would have thought that Ben, the Soldier Boy would enjoy watching Friends in bed with a woman. That felt special, to share something so...normal with him. Someone so...out of the ordinary.

“Joey, huh?” She asked, smiling. “I can kinda see that.”

“You know I can kinda see why you like that kinda crap.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I could see you having that sort of life.”

The woman tilted her head.

“Yeah, right. I’d pay big bucks to see me and Frenchie decorating a tree while Kimiko and Annie are discussing whether or not he’s going to finally ask her to marry him,” she answered sarcastically. “Then M.M would come in, sporting leather pants and talkin’ about how bored he was at work, sure. And then! Butcher and Hughie’d come from the apartment on the other side of the hall and ask us all to meet down at the café for a nice lovely chat about our daily lives.”

Ben chortled.

“I’d pay all the money in the world to see that,” he laughed. “It’s funny how, in your dream life, you’re still with those guys.”

Violet pondered what he said for a bit.

“Well, yeah. They’re the closest I have to...having that, you know? Now, don’t get me wrong, it’ll never be like that, and thank God!” She laughed. “But...yeah. I love those guys. I wish that could have been their lives, you know? No Supes, no Vought, just...normal human lives.”

“I understand. You know, I’ve often wondered what my life would’ve been like if I had never signed up to shoot up that thing that made me who I am.”

Violet nodded, signalling for him to go on.

“I like to think I’d have found myself a nice woman, gorgeous and with the tits of a goddess.”

“’Course, yeah. Great tits, that’s what I’d look for in a wife,” Violet laughed.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from you. You seem like a tits kinda gal.”

“Whatever that means,” she laughed again. “Go on, what would it have been like, then?”

Ben smiled at her, the corner of his eyes creasing as he did.

“I’d have had a couple of rug rats of my own. Two boys, maybe a girl or two. Buy a big ranch somewhere in the middle of nowhere and raise ‘em there. Would have told my father to kiss me where the sun don’t shine and...Would’ve been happy. Content.”

“Do you regret it?” The woman asked innocently. “Shooting that shit up?”

Ben stayed silent for a while, his attention seemingly focusing back on Friends, still playing in the background.

“I don’t think about that. I don’t like to. I would have been a weak fucking pussy.”

“You wouldn’t ha-”

“I did what I had to do. Became who I am.”

“At least you had the choice,” Violet answered bitterly. “Some of us weren’t so lucky.”

“What do you mean?”

Ben sat with his legs crossed, listening to Violet attentively.

“A few years back, it was discovered that Supes weren’t born like that. ‘Course you knew it back then, but it was still kept secret all this time. Until that fateful day when it was revealed that Supes were made. New parents were scouted out by Vought and paid copiously to inject their babies with some drug that’d make their kid special, extraordinary. To put it plainly, people sold their children and their children’s futures, their lives, for their own benefit. Not many people took it well, you know.”

“Did you? Take it well?”

“Given how I was already balls deep into my hatred for Vought, I think it made it easier to deal with it. Anger does that.”

“Did your brother take it well?”

“He was already dead. I think it’s good that he never knew.”

Ben nodded again, Violet was right. At least he had the choice. He wrapped his arms around the woman, kissing her softly. She rested her head on his shoulder for a minute, her eyes closed, breathing in his scent. She yawned loudly, which prompted Ben to tease her and he kissed her again, his own eyes feeling heavy with tiredness.

He laid back down on the bad, pulling Violet towards him, allowing her to rest her head on his chest. As she moved away from him to find a comfortable position to sleep in, he pulled her back, securing her with his arm over her belly, his hand caressing her arm affectionately.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” He asked tenderly.

Violet didn’t answer, but simply let out a relaxed breath, humming as she drifted to sleep in Ben’s arms. He rested his head on hers, his cheek squashed against the back of her head, his nose nuzzling in her hair. It smelled like the shampoo the motel provided for, apples. He kissed the back of her head and finally allowed himself to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning, after merely four hours of sleep, Violet was awoken by the sound of the phone Butcher had left her ringing. Groggily, she got out of the bed, where she had woken up alone, and picked up the phone.

“Oi, oi, sunshine,” Butcher’s voice echoed loudly in Violet’s ear. “Sleep well?”

The woman grunted as she sat back down on the edge of the bed, checking the time, and sighing.

“For Christ’s sake, William, it’s six in the morning,” she answered, her annoyance audible.

“I know, I got a watch, love.”

Violet didn’t answer, looking around the room to see where Ben could have went. The shower wasn’t on, and his Supe suit was still in the room, so he couldn’t have been far.

“Violet? You still there?”

She sighed.

“Yes, Butcher, I’m still here.”

“Alright, I forgot how much of a dick you could be when you wake up.”

“Dicks attract dicks, that’s the general rule of nature.”

Butcher laughed on the other end of the line.

“Fair enough. I was just callin’ to give you a heads up, me and Hughie’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Half-”

“Yes, yes, I know. I’m bringing tea.”

“Okay, bring tea and I’ll love you again,” Violet answered with a smile Butcher pictured from where he was.

“That’s the Violet I know,” Butcher smiled too. Then, after a short moment, he spoke again. “Soldier Boy still around?”

Violet looked around the room again, then out the window, and she spotted Ben leaning on the balcony outside their motel room, his brows furrowed, smoking a cigarette.

“Yeah, still here.”

“Is he decent?”

Violet chortled.

“Yes, Butcher, he is.”

“Are you decent?”

“I am, you old cunt,” she laughed. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Alright, alright. Well! Be there in a few.”

And with that, Billy hung up. Violet set the phone down on the table and opened the door, putting on her sweatshirt, pulling the hood over her head. She met up with Ben, leaning on the railings the same way he did. There was no sound, except for a few cars driving by from time to time. Ben smoked silently, not bothering to turn around when he noticed Violet next to him. He turned away slightly and sighed.

“Morning”, Violet ventured.

“Hi,” Ben barely glanced at her as he replied coldly.

The woman breathed in through her nose. She felt as if Ben were a wall and she couldn’t get through to him. Of course. She turned around, her back leaning on the railings. She pulled a cigarette and asked Ben for the lighter, which he all but threw at her carelessly. Violet glared at him as she lit her cigarette and took a drag. The both of them stood there in deafening silence and it suddenly felt like their early days. It felt cold, like the last few weeks had never happened. Like the last night had never happened.

“Right,” Violet said sharply. “Just came out here to tell you Butcher and Hughie’ll be there shortly.”

“Great,” Ben replied, throwing his cigarette over the railings and turning to go back in their room without a single look in Violet’s direction. “Finally something useful happening around here.”

Violet frowned, taken aback by the sudden change in the man’s behaviour. She shook her head, there was no way in hell she’d let him talk to her this way.

“What the fuck’s up with you?” She asked angrily.

He didn’t answer, instead, he slammed the door, leaving her to stand alone outside. Violet opened the door strongly, staring daggers at him. He was sat nonchalantly on one of the chairs around the table, lacing his shoes.

“I asked you a question, moron,” Violet didn’t back down.

“I heard you.”

“Well?”

She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her foot tapping the floor rapidly. He finally looked up at her and it seemed like the Ben from the past night had faded away.

“Nothing,” he sighed. “And let’s leave it at that.”

Violet lifted an eyebrow. If that’s how he wanted to play it, so be it.

“Fine. Be a dick if you like.”

He didn’t answer again and the both of them waited for Hughie and Butcher’s arrival impatiently. For someone to free them from this silent torture.

After thirty minutes almost on the dot, they finally arrived. Butcher knocked twice on the door and opened it, expecting to find Ben and Violet at least talking about what would happen today. Instead, he found Ben smoking, turning his back away from Violet who was nervously biting her nails, her eyes looking outside the window. Hughie came in with a brown paper bag, set it down on the table and greeted Violet warmly. The woman smiled at him kindly, returning the friendly embrace. Butcher threw Ben the drugs he had asked for the day before and the Supe dug in immediately, which made Violet roll her eyes unconsciously.

“How’d it go last night?” Hughie asked Violet innocently.

Violet and Ben exchanged a look and the latter averted his gaze, focusing back on the line of coke he was about to snort.

“Nothing important happened,” the woman lied with a pull on her heartstrings. “I’m glad you guys are finally here.”

Ben felt a tinge of hurt, of annoyance at hearing her lie like this. He had to convince himself it was better this way: pretending nothing happened and going back to how they were before. So he didn’t add anything to that, stuffing a rolled up bill in his nostril and snorting the line in front of him. He sniffled, scratching his beard. God, that felt good.

Well, “good” might have been an overstatement, but it felt better than whatever it was going on today with him and Violet. Which, in all honesty, he knew he was the sole reason for.

“So tell me,” Butcher went on to ask Ben. “Who’s next on your list?”

“Mindstorm,” the man answered casually. “But I warn you, he’s gonna be a bitch to find.”

Both men carried on their conversation, planning how they were going to find Mindstorm and how Ben was going to make him regret the day he was born. Violet had to refrain from thinking how hot Ben was, talking like that.

She shook her head, turning her eyes towards Hughie who gave her a shy smile. She returned it, patting his arm in a friendly manner.

“Are you and Annie gonna be okay, Hughie?” She asked, genuinely concerned.

The man raised his shoulders, then slumped.

“I...don’t know, actually,” he answered honestly. “I hope so. But she has to understand we have to do whatever it takes to win.”

“Like shooting up an untested drug from Vought, huh?”

Hughie seemed surprised that she knew about it. He scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, Violet. Whatever it takes.”

“Hughie, come on. I’d expect something like that from him,” Violet said, pointing at Butcher with her thumb. “But not you.”

“And why not?” Hughie looked like he was getting defensive.

“Because you’re good.”

“What, and Butcher isn’t?”

“That’s...not what I meant. He is, but he’s always been the “whatever it takes” guy. You didn’t used to be.”

Hughie scoffed, but he understood what she meant. He did change a lot these past years, more than he ever would have believed, more than he would have wanted to. But it was necessary. He believed that you couldn’t take on the biggest company in the world, the biggest power holder in the world, and not change in the process.

“A lot’s happened while you were away, Violet,” Hughie concluded both bitterly and sadly.

“I know.”

There was a brief pause.

“How do you know so much, by the way? You know a lot, you know, for someone who was supposed to be in hiding all this time.”

Violet smiled proudly.

“I kept an eye out,” she admitted.

“It must have been hard to stay away, huh?”

“As hard as an old dude on Viagra,” Violet answered with a small grin, which made Hughie laugh. “But, yeah. It wasn’t easy.”

“I’m glad you’re back, V,” Hughie confessed and the woman smiled genuinely. She stood up, wrapping her arms around the man and squeezing him tight. “I missed you.”

Just as they parted, Hughie’s phone rang and he excused himself out of the motel room. He came back a few seconds later, peeping his head through the door, his phone still in hand, gesturing for Violet to come meet him outside. He handed her the phone.

“It’s, uh..for you,” he said, leaving her alone once she took it.

“Mademoiselle Violette, is it really you?” Said a voice the woman hadn’t heard in years.

Chapter Text

Violet’s hand gripped the phone tighter. She couldn’t believe her ears.

“So it is true,” the voice on the other line said.

“Frenchie?” Violet had to make sure.

Frenchie let out a relieved sighed when he heard the woman’s voice. He’d recognize it anywhere.

“Serge?” She asked again. “How-”

“Mon Dieu, Violette, c’est toi?” He couldn’t believe it! Violet was alive and well, and with Hughie! Aside from the fact that she had seemingly teamed up with Soldier Boy, Frenchie was ecstatic. She had to have had a good reason to have done so, and he’d ask her once it was right. Right now, he just wanted to know how she was, why she was back now. He had so many questions.

“Oui, Serge, it’s me. How did you know I was with Hughie?”

Frenchie took a deep breath.

“Annie told me...and M.M, that we’d find you with Butcher and Petit Hughie,” he confessed. From the sound of his voice, Violet gathered M.M wasn’t too pleased to hear about her alliance with the man responsible for his trauma.

“I wish it could have gone differently,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her voice. “Did Annie-”

“She swore she only told us. She’s angry, yes, but she knows what Vought would do to you if they found you.”

The woman felt relieved. Of course Annie wouldn’t tell Vought, but it still felt reassuring to hear that she wouldn’t even now. There was a brief silence where Violet could hear Frenchie take a drag of a cigarette and she smiled. It was a comfortable silence, and it took her back to those times it was just the two of them, hanging out, talking about anything, laughing. She had often thought of those times, when she was alone, hiding. They used to be able to make a dirty, damp room feel like the most comfortable place in the world back then. They brought each other the most comfort, at least that’s what their friendship used to be.

“I asked Butcher but...he wouldn’t tell me shit. Is Kimiko really okay?” The Supe asked after a bit, biting her nails nervously.

“Yes, Dieu merci, she is okay. She almost did not make it but..she pulled through.”

“Dieu merci, indeed. Are you okay?”

Their conversation went on for a little longer. Frenchie told her about what had happened in his life recently, how he was taken by Little Nina, and how he almost didn’t make it out either. Butcher opened the door just a crack, peeping his head out, then tilting it as he saw Violet speaking to someone on the phone.

“Frenchie, I’ve got to go,” she said with a smile. “Stay safe will you?”

“You know me,” the man chuckled. “You too, Mademoiselle Violette.”

“Did you say Frenchie?” Butcher asked.

“Yeah. Starlight told him about me...and Ben.”

“Ben?”

“Soldier Boy, sorry.”

Butcher’s brow lifted and he smirked.

“Oh so you’re on first name basis with the guy now, are ya?” He teased her and she rolled her eyes.

“Shut up,” she answered with a grin. “Ben’s just shorter and a little less pretentious than Soldier Boy, is all.”

“Yeah, right,” Butcher half smiled, opening the door more so Violet could come back in, putting his arm around her shoulders as she did, shifting her position so she could see the cup of tea he had put out on the table for her. “Here’s the tea I promised.”

Violet smiled genuinely, grabbing the cup and sipping happily.

“Okay I love you again,” she laughed and Butcher smiled again. “Until the next time you’re an asshole. God, I missed tea.”

“Tea? You missed tea?” Butcher teased her.

Violet put down the cup and sat down across from Ben, avoiding his gaze. He was looking at he and Butcher’s exchange intently. How he wanted to be back to the last night, talking to her just like he was, making her smile.

“Well, yeah,” Violet grinned and Butcher knew right away what would come next. “Tea doesn’t have that irritating accent of yours. And, it doesn’t talk as much.”

She had an almost childish look in her eyes, a smile stretching on each side of her face.

“You got a point,” Butcher admitted. “But tea doesn’t have my charm, does it?”

“Another point for tea, then.”

Butcher shook his head, an amused look on his face.

“Right, me and Hughie’d better be off,” he announced, prompting the younger man to stand up and grab his bag. “Be back when we’ve got something on Mindstorm.”

“Why the fuck did y’all need to come here so early then?” Soldier Boy interjected heatedly.

“Still got jobs to do,” Butcher answered casually, not even glancing at the Supe. “So, uh, stay here and try not to rip each other’s throats, yeah?”

No one in the room answered. Violet glanced awkwardly in Ben’s direction and averted her gaze when she realized Ben was doing the same. She then looked at Butcher and nodded, signalling it was okay for them to leave.

And then, once they left, it was back to Violet and Ben alone together.

They both sat in a different corner of the room, evaluating how the other moved, wondering who would be the first to break and speak. Ben hated to be so distant from her, but he didn’t know how to be anything else. Last night, he bore his soul to her and now...he resented her for it. Who was she to make him so weak?

He sighed wistfully, scratching the back of his head, heading in her direction, opening his mouth to speak but was cut off by Violet. She looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness.

“I could make you forget yesterday if that’s what you wanted,” she offered against her better judgement. “Then you wouldn’t act like a total bitch.”

“Forget yesterday?” Ben asked, genuinely curious as to why she would think he’d want that. “Why would I want that?”

“Because it’s obvious you regret it, Ben.”

“I..”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” Violet stood up and walked towards Ben, standing in front of him with her hands held out.

Ben shoved her hands away, gripping Violet’s wrists strongly.

“Don’t you dare erase one bit of my memory,” he threatened and the woman jumped back, startled.

When she regained her composure, Ben thought she even looked relieved he refused. Her jaw and her fists were clenched, but she didn’t dare look at him.

“I want to remember the one night I was brave enough to finally be myself around you,” he finally confessed, looking down as if he were ashamed.

Violet looked up at him, confused.

“Wha-”

“Let me finish while I still have the balls for it,” he ordered. “Look, I know...Pushing you away today was not right. In fact it was the dumbest thing I’ve done since I got out of that pod, but you...You scare me, Violet.”

“I do?”

“You’re fucking terrifying, woman.”

Violet chuckled, inching closer to him.

“You make me soft, and I hate it,” he continued, his eyes locked in hers. “Worst thing about it all is I can’t explain why, but I trust you. For all I know you could have been making me your little bitch since the beginning-”

“I never-”

“I know.”

“I want you to know this, Ben. To hear it from me, look at me.” Violet placed her hands on both sides of Ben’s face, looking in his eyes, her thumb tracing circles on his cheek. His hand automatically placed itself on her hip, his fingers digging into her skin.

“There’s really no better way for you to know I’ll never compel you to do anything than to have the assurance that I can’t, right?”

Ben’s brow furrowed as he watched Violet roam through a bag in the corner of the room. She picked up a small glass vial from it, placing it in her outstretched palm in front of him.

“What-”

“Take it,” she ordered him. “I’d been meaning to give it to you for some time.”

Ben didn’t take the vial, instead, he placed his hand over hers, his eyes scanning her features.

“What is this?” Ben asked, his thumb glazing over her skin.

“I can’t control people who have my DNA. This, is filled with it.”

“Violet-”

“Ben, take it. I want you to know I will never use my abilities on you. That’s your way of knowing for sure.”

“How does this work?”

“There are only six people in the world I can’t control. Stan Edgar, Homelander, Butcher, M.M and Frenchie,” Violet listed their names on her fingers. “Edgar and that cunt Homelander took it from me against my will, in a lab. I think they stuck that little vial somewhere under their skin, so they always have it on them.”

“What about the others?”

“I told them the same thing I’ll tell you. Take it and hide it from me. Shove it up your ass, swallow it, stick it under your skin-”

“I don’t need it, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ll take it,” Ben finally agreed, taking the small vial from Violet’s hand. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I wanted you to know it was real,” Violet started shyly. “This, whatever it is.”

“I don’t need no vial to know that, sweetheart.”

Ben reduced the space between them and kissed her slowly, cradling the back of her head, feeling her melt under his touch as he did.

“That’s how I know,” he whispered against her lips.

Chapter Text

“That’s how I know,” Ben whispered against her as she looked up at him, her lips parted and her breath short.
She wondered for a second though, if the man in front of her was the same as the one she had rescued from that complex not so long ago, and she thought surely, he wasn’t. How could he be? How could he be capable of such tenderness, after everything? She was sure he would inevitably end up pushing her away again, but in this moment, it didn’t matter. In this moment, it was Ben who stood in front of her, not Soldier Boy, not that fucked up product of Vought.
Ben was nice to be around, she thought.
Ben should have been protected, just like she should’ve, like any Supe Vought made and fucked up.
She balled up her fists and clenched her jaw, still managing to give him a reassuring smile.
“Don’t you dare make me regret giving this to you,” she then said coldly, but Ben knew there was a hint, a glimpse of hope in her eyes.
“Let me guess, you’ll kill me if I do?” Ben replied with a shit-eating grin, but continued before she could answer. “Let me remind you, sweetheart, that those fuckers tried to for forty fucking years and even they couldn’t.”
She chortled, shoving him lightly.
“They’re not me, I’d find a way, should I need it.” She smiled, and he knew he would be right to feel threatened. He didn’t, not really. But, had he been any other man, he probably would have.
“That’s cute,” he chuckled. “Keep believin’ that.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile taking shape on her lips. She’d rather not think about killing Ben, but life had told her to assume the worst out of everyone, and that included him. She would never be able to fully relax, to fully let her guard down with him. Not until every single one of the cunts at Vought were dead.
There was a slight pause, a fleeting moment where something could have been said, where something could have been done, but neither of them would take that chance.
“You could very easily have fucked me over time and time again,” Ben started after a little bit.
“Yeah,” Violet answered, furrowing her brow, trying to see where he was getting at.
“But you didn’t.”
“You’re very good at pointing out the obvious today, aren’t you?” She teased.
He smiled and chuckled.
“Fuck you,” he shook his head with a smile. “Why didn’t you?”
“Because you’re devilishly handsome,” she replied sarcastically, which made Ben laugh loudly.
Her eyes creased with laughter, too, and she placed a gentle hand on his upper arm, which made him look into her eyes, his heart jumping in his chest. Fuck, he was beginning to feel like those pussies in those movies he “hated” when he was twenty. He shoved those thoughts away.
“Why, Violet?”
“At first, I thought, at best, you’d be useful to me. I’d be able to use you to get to where I want, yeah?”
He nodded, encourageing her to go on.
“Then I guess at some point you managed to soften me up a little and get in my good graces, you fucker,” she smiled.
“So what you’re sayin’ is you like me?”
She shoved him.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’d be caught dead before anything like that left my mouth. No, you’re…convenient.”
“Convenient?” He pressed on the word, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Hey, come on, you’re not bad to look at, you’re a good kisser. Most definitely an even better shag, I’d wager-”
“So I’m your…sidekick?” He asked and Violet laughed at how he seemed to be disgusted by the fact that he could be taken as someone's sidekick, him.
“More like a…partner?” She offered.
“A partner?” He thought about it. “I’ve never had a partner before. Not as an equal, I mean.”
The woman smiled, locking her gaze in his. How could he worm his way into her heart more with each passing second?
“I'd like that, I think.” Ben then added with a smile before he rose his hand to her cheek and cupped it softly, his thumb gently carressing it.
Violet smiled at him warmly, as warm as she could and nodded. So they agreed then, they were partners, they were equal. They relied on each other more than they would admit but this…somehow mattered to each of them.
Just as Violet was about to add something to tell Ben he wasn't just convenient, she heard her phone ring.
It was Butcher, again.
“What is it, William?” She asked in a somewhat irritated sigh.
The man on the other line chortled.
“Don't sound so happy to hear from me, love,” he teased her. “Change of plans.”
The Supe rolled her eyes.
“‘Course there is. Hit me.”
“Me and the lad are coming to spend the night with you and your ticking time bomb of a ‘not your boyfriend’ boyfriend.”
Again, she rolled her eyes and gave Butcher a dirty look through her phone.
“Why?”
“Tell you when we get there. Sit tight.”
And just like that, Butcher hung up, leaving Violet with just as little information as she had before he called. The usual, she thought, when it came to Billy. At least this time he called before he showed up, he used to come to her place unannounced back when their team was just starting.
Violet looked at Ben, her smile slightly fading and the two of them waited for Hughie and Butcher to get here, sitting in an almost uncomfortable silence.

Chapter Text

“Herogasm?” Soldier Boy repeated Butcher’s words with an apparent interest.

He had been leaning on the cluttered table but stood straight at the mention of the yearly Supe fuck-fest.

“I’ve heard about it,” Violet’s eyes shifted from Butcher to Ben. “I used to get invited to that when I worked for Vought- “

“But…you were very much underage then, weren’t you?” Hughie interjected, his face showing clear disgust at the thought.

Violet nodded.

“I was, yeah.”

“Now, that’s fucked up.” Ben shook his head, disgusted. He crossed his arms over his chest and tutted.

“Never went,” Violet added to reassure them.

“Good,” Ben and Billy both said at the same time, before Billy added: “How ‘bout going now?”

Ben’s ears pricked up, his interest was piqued, but Violet grunted.

“I am supposed to be missing, remember?” The woman remarked and Butcher placed his arm around her shoulder.

“I know, love. I thought maybe you might use your little powers to get us inside, hey?”

Violet snickered disapprovingly.

“Is Temp V making your brain soft?” She teased but noticed how the man’s face seemed serious for a flicker of a moment. She shook off the odd feeling stirring in her own brain and patted the man’s arm with a small smile.

“I only meant that I haven’t really used that in a good long while. Not to that extent, at least. I’m not sure how I’m gonna fare, you know?”

Hearing Violet voice some concern about her abilities gave Hughie a feeling of discomfort. He had never heard her express any kind of doubt about herself before, and he didn’t like hearing her do it now that it mattered so much.

“And what if Homelander’s here, huh?” The Supe added and Butcher snickered too.

“From what I hear that cunt’s never shown his face, or anything else, at Herogasm,” he informed them all.

Ben chuckled absent-mindedly.

“Herogasm,” he repeated, smiling to himself.

Violet shot him a questioning look.

“What the hell’re you on about?”

Ben’s head turned quickly to look at her.

“Hmm? Oh,” he looked proud as he carried on. “I just can’t believe it’s still happening, you know?”

“What?”

Ben grinned proudly.

‘You got yourself one of its founding members in front of you, sweet cheeks.” He announced boastfully.

“Fuck me,” Butcher grunted, both annoyed and amused by the Supe’s revelation.

“Careful what you’re saying, William. Fire him up just enough and he just might. He founded Herogasm, after all,” Violet teased both men with a wry, amused smile.

“Kindly fuck off,” Billy gave her a fake smile which made her laugh.

The four of them stood in the room, far away enough for one another, all sharing that same uneasiness at the forced proximity. Violet stood right in the middle of Ben and Butcher, and she was still smiling from her joke to the latter, cheekily looking at Hughie who stood in front of her, leaning on the unmade bed, and he was trying not to show it made him smile too.

The remaining coke Ben had requested was carelessly strewn on the table he was leaning on, along with discarded boxes of food from the previous days. Hughie clutched his paper cup of coffee a little stronger and took a sip, the sound of his swallowing almost echoing through the room. He looked up at his mentor and gave him one of his famous uncomfortable smiles.

“I, uh… I think we could really use your help here, Violet,” he said in a soft voice, his eyes like a puppy’s, to try to soften her up.

“I’ll have to train before,” the woman replied sternly.

The three men nodded.

“And I’ll kill every single person who recognizes me,” she added coldly, her eyes falling on Butcher’s with an intense look in them. She was serious.

“Fine by me,” Butcher agreed with a sharp nod.

Hughie shook his head.

“We’re only going there to question the T&T Twins, right?” He asked nervously and all eyes turned to Soldier Boy. He sighed.

“Yes. I’m only after those conjoined motherfuckers.”

His face was closed off, his gaze dark, focused, his tone dry. Violet could tell the simple mention of any of his former partners made him go to a dark place, sent him inevitably back to that pod he was locked in for so fucking long. She wanted to reach out, to try and give him a reassuring smile, a comforting touch, but she knew better than to do that, when his face looked like that, especially now that they weren’t just the two of them, and he’d resent her for making him look weak in front of Butcher. In front of anyone, really.

“Right, well, then I guess we’re taking a little trip, aren’t we?” Butcher sounded almost chipper.  “Can’t wait to tell Frenchie we went, and he didn’t.”

Violet chuckled as she thought about Frenchie and how he would surely curse them for not bringing him along. He used to talk her ear off with Herogasm back in the day.

“He is gonna be furious,” she laughed, then after a short pause, she added: “Are we sure the twins are gonna be there?”

Butcher nodded and proceeded to tell them all the information he had: Herogasm took place in the same place every year, the T&T Twins’ house in Vermont, no cameras were allowed, ever, and it was absolutely going to blow their minds.

It would take place in two days, just enough time for them to get settled at The Legend’s place in Vermont and establish a real game plan. Somehow, Butcher had managed to get Legend in on it, and coerced him into allowing them to stay at his place, which was a feat of its own.

“Vermont it is, then,” Violet concluded and, soon, after just enough time to pack their bags, the four of them set out for The Legend’s home.

Chapter Text

They had been staying at The Legend’s place for almost a full day now, and their game plan was clear as day. Violet would show up at the door, create some kind of diversion, try and get as many people as she could out so Soldier Boy could get in and find the twins. It should be simple, they thought. Violet had spent the majority of the past day practising on Legend’s staff, making sure she would be ready to compel all the Supes there to do as she told them.

She was smoking in the garden, enjoying some quiet, when Ben thought he’d join her. Silently, he sat next to her, gently taking the cigarette from her lips and placing it in between his, taking a long drag. He exhaled and placed it right back where he took it, between Violet’s slightly parted lips. The two of them remained there, exchanging the cigarette until it was finished, in total silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, like the car ride there. No, this somehow felt...comfortable, like they had finally learnt that some silences can be good. That not all silences need to be filled.

Ben shifted a little, turning his shoulders so he could look at her and he smiled a soft one. Very different than the ones he was used to giving for pictures and interviews, very different from the ones he gave when he wanted something. A real one.

Violet felt a familiar flutter in her heart as he smiled and lifted his hand to caress her hair.

“Legend’s maid’s back on her feet, by the way,” Ben said after some time.

“Is she?”

“Yeah,” the man nodded, “She said she wanted to ‘suck my cock and make me forget my name’, and then she called me Bertha.”

Violet laughed wholeheartedly.

“You made her say that, didn’t you?” Ben laughed too and the woman nodded.

“I’m sorry, it was just too tempting.”

Ben shook his head, smiling and laughing.

“I know, it’s not the best use of my power but it’s harmless fun, right?”

Violet asked rhetorically.

“As long as you don’t make people actually do that, then, yeah, it’s kinda funny.”

“That’s where I draw the line,” she began, her smile fading, “I never compel people to do things that’ll harm them, in any way.”

“Never?” Ben asked, curious as to how a Supe could be one of Vought’s main heroes without doing so. He knew, deep down, that if he had that kind of power, he would have used it for his own benefit, regardless of how it affected them. Before the pod, at least. Now...it would be a different story, he had suffered too much at the hands of others to not at least think of what it would do to them. But, if it would mean getting revenge on Payback and all those who screwed him, he’d do it. He’d tell them to jump from the fucking Empire State Building for all he cared, with no care for those motherfuckers. As for others, well, he’d at least think about it.

Violet shook her head and clenched her jaw, looking into the distance.

“Not any more,” she simply answered, not really willing to go into detail.

“But you have done it?” Ben inquired further. He wanted her to admit that she, too, had done fucked up things. He knew she had, she’d mentioned it before, but he wanted to understand her, to know her better. If they were to be partners, they had to know each other.

Violet nodded silently, nervously pulling out another cigarette and putting it to her mouth, without lighting it.

“I have, and that’s as much as I’m willing to say about it, if you wanna know more, ask Butcher.”

She stood up, dusting herself off, but Ben wrapped his hand around her wrist, pulling a little to make her sit back next to him. She pulled her wrist away, looking visibly angry, then she got up again, walking fast away from him. He stood up, taking a few fast steps to catch up to her. He placed himself in front of her, stopping her in her tracks, and he placed his hand on her cheek, forcing her to look in his eyes. She jerked away, her brow furrowed. For someone who’s power was to bend people to her will, she sure hated when people tried to do that to her. She pushed him strongly, but Ben didn’t move one inch. He looked down at her, a grin on his face. She was strong, sure, but not strong enough to out-strong Soldier Boy.

“You told your brother to kill himself, didn’t you?” He asked plainly, as if the mere accusation wasn’t already enough for her to push him away for good.

To his surprise, she didn’t try to push him again, she didn’t insult him, she didn’t fight . And he knew he had guessed correctly. She planted her eyes in his, and he could see a glimpse of tears brimming her eyes. He’d never seen her so..vulnerable, so weak. He thought he’d hate seeing her like this, like a regular human, he thought it’d break something between them, that he’d see her as lesser, but...he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and make her forget all about it. That’s the first thing he’d do, if he had her power, he decided right then. End all her pain. Then he could focus on ending his own, and he’d be content. He’d marry her, put a few of his kids in her, grow old and grey with her, and they’d be happy. He hated how sappy she made him, hated it .

But that wasn’t ever going to happen, and he knew that very well. He would never be able to make her forget, he would never be able to make his pain stop. But if there could be a temporary fix to all this, whatever it would be, he’d make it happen.

He could never have the life he used to want, before he got injected with Compound V, he forfeited that. But, for whatever reason, that woman, the woman who he owed his freedom to, she felt like a glimpse of that old hope of his, and he wanted to cling onto it. The idea alone was terrifying. One day, he woke up inside a lab and was tortured for forty years, because the people he trusted the most had betrayed him. Now, he was trusting someone again when all his instincts told him to trust no one but him.

“Violet,” he whispered, his hand on the woman’s cheek. “We’re both fucked up, here.”

She smiled sadly and sighed, leaning into his touch.

“I did,” she confessed in a strained voice. “It was either that or Homelander killed him.”

“Why?”

She shook her head.

“To test my loyalty, he said. Truth is, it was to scare the very idea of ever betraying him out of my mind.”

She paused, inching closer to him.

“But that’s the thing with fear. At some point, people get brave.”

Ben nodded, he agreed with that. He thought his whole team back then would always be too scared to act, too scared to do anything about him. But at some point, fear just wasn’t enough.

“I got brave, joined The Boys, and give or take ten years later, here we are.”

“That’s something to be proud of, in my book.” Ben spoke softly, plunging his gaze in hers.

“I’m not quite there yet, but one day, maybe.”

“Butcher’s proud.” Ben stated confidently. He knew that, he had seen how that British guy looked at her. His look was the one he always sought from his own father, one he never had, the very reason he shot up that Compound V.

“Would you mind telling him?” She chuckled. “I think he’d get a kick out of hearing he’s proud of the thing he hates most in the world after himself, a Supe.”

“You can joke all you want, sweetheart. He’s proud of you, I’m just telling it like I see it.”

She smiled, squeezing his arm in thanks.

“Ben?” She asked with a grin.

“Yeah?” His voice sounded somewhat hoarse, but he scratched his throat to have it return to its usual sound.

“Herogasm, huh?” She teased him with a small laugh. “Was ‘shove some supe hand up your ass’ already taken when you chose the name?”

He laughed.

“Fuck you,” he smiled, “I’ll have you know I’m proud of the name. C’mon, you gotta admit it’s clever.”

Violet shook her head, smiling.

“Sure, Ben, it’s clever,” she humoured him.

Chapter Text

That night, Violet stirred in her bed, images of the day her life got turned upside down flashing before her eyes, keeping her from sleep. She kept hearing Eddie plead for his life, and Homelander’s laugh. That laugh. It kept her awake for many a night in her life. Her hands full of blood, Eddie’s last smile.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she threw her covers off and rose to her feet, wiping the sweat of her brow. She was gripping the bedsheets and her heart was beating fast. She reluctantly got up from the single most comfortable bed she had ever been on and hissed when her feet hit the cold floor, then, she groggily made her way towards the kitchen, the sounds of Butcher and Hughie’s snores crowding the hallway. She knew those sounds like the back of her hand, M.M and her used to make fun of them when all of The Boys would stay in the same place.

M.M . She wondered if he knew what she and her team were planning on doing. She wondered if he would forgive her.

He probably wouldn’t, and he’d be right not to. He was better than that.

She tried shaking off her thoughts of M.M, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes. She carried on down the hallway, and, soon, she found herself in Legend’s kitchen. She spotted some small plastic bags, some filled with powder she figured was coke, some filled with weed. It was amazing how that man was still alive after everything he ingested, smoked or drank in his life. Regular humans were impressive, at times.

She poured herself a bowl of cereal and leaned on one of the cold counters, her exposed legs slightly shivering at the contact. She closed her eyes, pushing her thoughts even further in her mind and tried to relax. There was little sound in the house, except for the occasional snoring and distant sound of The Legend’s television playing in his bedroom. She focused on that, trying to make out what he was watching. Knowing him, it was probably one of the old movies he produced and had a cameo in back in his day.

She didn’t notice the light sound of footsteps heading in the kitchen, stopping next to one of its cabinets and pulling out a glass. She opened her eyes, a bit startled, when she heard the fridge open, and its light lit dark room.

“Can’t sleep either?” Ben said, leaning next to her on the stone counter. He had poured himself a glass of milk, and set it aside as he crossed his arms and looked at her.

He was only wearing a pair of sweatpants, he had no shirt on and his hair was a little more messed up than usually. Violet shook off the thought that he looked so very good like that.

Actually, she shook off the thought that she wanted to pour that glass of milk on him and drink straight from his abs.

She gulped and focused on her cereal bowl.

“Not really, no,” she simply answered, she stayed silent for a bit, then she spoke again, averting her eyes from his. “I lied, earlier.”

The man’s attention focused on the woman next to him.

“You did?”

She nods.

“I didn’t tell Eddie to kill himself,” she began confessing. “Well, I did. Tried to.That’s when I found out I couldn’t compel people who had my DNA.”

Ben’s eyes widened.

“But that Homelander fucker knew that already, didn’t he?”

“When he realised that what Stan Edgar had told him was true, he laughed. He laughed and offered two solutions. Either he’d make me watch as he opened Eddie’s stomach from top to bottom with his laser, or, ‘the easy way out’ as he put it, do it myself.”

There was a brief pause, where tension filled the room, Violet’s hands shakily holding onto her bowl, her eyes fixed on the marble tiles of the floor.

“I couldn’t let him do it, I couldn’t-”

Ben didn’t think twice before he wrapped his arms around her, her bowl clattering and bursting on the floor. He felt her shake, but she didn’t cry, she’d revisited that moment so many times in the past few days that she almost felt disconnected from it. She convinced herself that was what she was feeling, at least, to go on. All she could focus on now was the hatred she bore for the man who forced her to do it.

“I had no choice, it was either killing Eddie or Homelander would’ve killed the both of us. If I’m still around, then maybe there’s a chance that one day the world will be rid of that fucking toilet bowl scraping. At least that’s what I told myself in that moment.”

“It was the right call,” Ben comforted her. He could imagine why that moment defined so much of who she was now, why she had turned from Vought and an easy, comfortable, life, to seek revenge.

“Look at me,” he whispered against her ear and the woman did as he told her, slowly lifting her head from his chest to plunge her eyes in his.

Her hands slid from his chest to rest on his sides, and she realised he didn’t push her hands away, he didn’t tell her to stop, instead, it seemed like he enjoyed it, he had his eyes closed and tiny shivers formed where her fingers were. She dug her fingers further into his skin and he opened his eyes again, his own hand going behind her head to caress her hair, the other one resting on her lower back, tracing circles with his thumb.

Violet stood on the tip of her toes and pulled him closer to her, her face inches from his. He closed the gap between them and crashed his lips with hers, cornering her between the counter top and his body. His hands roamed her frame, as hers did the same with him. She let out a small, muffled moan against his lips and that’s all he needed to lift her up and sit her on the counter.

The bowl she had filled with cereal was still on the floor, bits of porcelain scattering the floor, most definitely cutting their feet, but they couldn’t care less. Violet’s hand hit the glass of milk Ben had poured himself earlier and it crashed on the counter, pouring its content all over the surface, yet they didn’t seem to notice that either. Violet’s hands ran through Ben’s hair hungrily as his hands came close to her breasts. She took a long breath when his hand finally cupped her boob, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as he did so. He grinned at her, biting his own lip as he watched her writhe under him with pleasure he was giving her.

She opened her eyes again, sliding her hand down his chest and slowly caressing the already hard bulge of his dick. He parted his lips a little, savouring the contact. He hadn’t feel that good in over forty years. Her hands felt like heaven, like solace.

His breath was rugged, his hands gripping the fabric of her shirt, he was grunting, the feeling of Violet’s hand on his dick was almost too much to handle, so he pulled away reluctantly, much to the surprise of the woman, who suddenly felt like the room had grown cold.

But, before she could voice any question she might have had, Ben lifted her shirt off and threw it somewhere in the room, the fabric thudding as it hit the ground. His lips soon found the tip of her breast, and his fingers pushed aside the fabric of her panties.

“Already wet for me, are you?” Ben said in a low, husky voice, a proud grin on his wet lips.

Violet didn’t answer and captured his lips again, biting down on them, almost drawing blood, which seemed to fire Ben up more than he already was. Without so much as a warning, Ben slid a finger, then two, inside her and she moaned, biting down on his shoulder to muffle the sound. His movements were those of a man who knew what he was doing, and, soon, she was grinding on his hand, almost coming undone at the mere touch of his fingers.

He pulled them out, tilting Violet’s hand further back, opening her mouth and putting them into her mouth. She sucked on them, locking her eyes in his, and his dick twitched. She’d be the death of him.

“That’s right, good girl,” he grunted, taking his fingers out of her mouth and into his. “Fuck.”

He gripped her thighs hard, confident it would leave bruises for her to remember this moment for weeks. He pushed open her thighs, tearing her panties off, and crashed his mouth straight on her clit, devouring it as if he was famished. His tongue toyed with her, and she let out loud sounds of pleasure, not bothering to cover them up, not even capable of thinking to do so.

She felt the vibrations of his moaning against her sensitive skin and that drew her over the edge, gripping, pulling at his hair as she felt an orgasm near, her vision growing blurrier by the second, a wave of pleasure crashing over her. Her thighs were shaking, and with a finally flick of his tongue, Ben looked up at her from between her legs, his beard glistening and a devilish smirk on his lips, he made her come like she had never come before, her eyes rolling in the back of her head before locking into his as she sunk back to reality.

With a smile, Ben inched away from her, catching his breath. He was leaning on the kitchen island, gripping its edge.

“Take off your pants,” Violet told him, out of breath.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Ben chuckled as he cast aside his sweatpants and was left fully naked in front of her.

Violet was still sat on the counter, her legs spread. She licked her lips as he strutted closer. Ben smirked, staying far enough from her so he could feel the heat radiate from her but did not penetrate her. He enjoyed torturing her like that, seeing her squirm for him.

Clearly, the woman did not enjoy his game as much as he did, as she gently grabbed his dick, slid at the very edge of the counter, wrapped her legs around him and slid his dick inside her wet vagina. She let out a pleasured moan and grinned as she saw Ben do the same.

“You just couldn’t wait now, could you?” He teased her, his fingers digging into the skin of her ass.

“Shut up and fuck me,” she ordered him with a small laugh that was soon cut off by a loud moan as he began thrusting hard.

Ben fucked her with a sense of urgency, half worrying that there was no way on earth, heaven or hell he could feel so good again. How could she feel so good? Fuck, he half believed that those forty years of torture were worth it if it meant he could fuck her again, and again, and again. He had to enjoy that feeling while it lasted, because there was no way he deserved that, he thought.

To hear her, to see her come undone like this, all because of him? It made him hard all over again. He wasn’t afraid of giving her his all, she was a Supe after all, she could handle his full strength. He fucked her senseless, watched as her body took all he gave her without failing. She had dug her nails deep into the skin of his shoulders, leaving scratch marks all over his back, but the harder she scratched, the harder he thrust inside her.

“Is this what you had in mind?” He asked, teasing her with his thumb circling her clit.

She nodded, her lips swollen from her own biting.

“Use your words, darling,” he ordered.

“Y-yes,” she moaned. “I want to see you come.”

Ben’s dick twitched at her words, and his heart grew at least three sizes. That woman . That woman had him in the palm of her hand. Right then, he realised Violet didn’t need to use her powers to compel him, ever. She just needed to look at him with those eyes, all fucked out, and he’d give her all she wanted.

“Only if you come for me one more time,” Ben thrust harder, her legs wrapping around him tighter, his hands cradling the back of her head and her ass.

They felt the counter top crack, but that didn’t stop them. Ben just lifted Violet over to the kitchen island, still linked together at the crotch. She was pulling at his hair now, her eyes locked in his. She lifted her head a little to lock their lips in a long, tender kiss and Ben lost all his resolve, intertwining his fingers with hers as he thrust one last time, watching as she came under him. This was all he needed to let go, finally.

He felt a wave of indescribable pleasure crash over him, incapacitate him, almost. He only saw her, only felt her around him, draining his heart and soul. He’d give it all to her anyway now, it didn’t matter. All of it, all of him, was hers, he thought. He’d never tell her, of course. That just wasn’t who he was, but, right now, he’d be whoever, whatever she’d want him to.

What he failed to realise was that, he already was what all that she wanted him to be, in this moment. Himself, in the purest way he could ever be. Ben .

In that moment, nothing but the two of them mattered. Not Vought, not Payback, nothing .

They stayed like this for a short time, silently enjoying the proximity with one another, enjoying the peace in their brains, for once, wrapped up in each other, before the two of them exchanged a knowing look and laughed.

“How’re we gonna explain that?” Ben asked with a chuckle, gesturing to the massive crack in the counter.

Chapter Text

Violet woke up in Ben’s bed, to the sound of loud pounding on the bedroom door. Ben, who had been sleeping like a log, his back to her, grunted, slowly getting out of the bed, glancing at where Violet was, to check if she was still here.

“I was sure you’d have escaped in the night,” he smiled. “You didn’t.”

He kissed her softly, his eyes saying much about how grateful he was that she hadn’t gone back to her own bedroom while he was asleep.

“I didn’t,” she repeated with a warm smile.

The sound of knocking on the door didn’t stop, and Ben reverted back to his usual self, angrily yelling at whoever was making that noise to fuck off. He strode over to the bedroom door and jolted it open, coming face to face with Butcher, whose hand was still raised like he was about to knock again, his brow was in a knot, his eyes wide and there were droplets of sweat forming on his forehead.

“The fuck do you want?” Ben asked, his tone clearly showing he wasn’t too pleased to have been woken up like that.

He’d much rather have taken his sweet, sweet time waking up with Violet, maybe even re-enact some of last night’s activities.

Butcher’s gaze went from Ben’s face to another area he soon realised was anything but clothed. He didn’t bother covering up, he had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Have you gone retarded?” Ben asked rhetorically.

Violet poked her head to see better, and her eyes met Butcher’s.

“I was looking for Violet. She wasn’t in her bedroom, and it looks like someone was fighting in the kitchen. Only seems logical to assume something happened, doesn’t it?” The man paused, then, with his signature grin, he added: “Well, something did happen, I see.”

“Piss off,” Ben brushed off Billy’s comment and shut the door on him, looking back at Violet who had an amused grin on her lips.

“Piss off too,” Ben teased her with a smile.

There was a part of him that wanted to get back in bed with her, enjoy that morning acting like nothing else mattered, but the other part of him knew it just wasn’t in him to be that guy. It wasn’t in her, either.

He watched as she got out of bed, his eyes gliding all over her naked body, in silence. He sat on the edge of the bed, wanting to say something, anything, but he didn’t.

She put on the same shirt he’d had so much fun taking off her just hours ago, and left the room without a word.

He didn’t hear her bedroom door, but seconds later, he heard a voice with a very distinct accent raise in the kitchen.

“That’s one mystery solved, innit?”

Butcher had his usual shit-eating grin and laughed, but his eyes told Violet a whole other story, as he gestured towards the broken countertop.

She flipped him off, pouring herself a cup of coffee and leaning on the island.

“I’ll pay Legend back,” she shrugged, focusing on the steaming cup in her hands.

“That’s it?” Butcher questioned, his tone accusing.

“What?” The woman looked unbothered, clearly not willing to play his game.

“Doesn’t matter,” he decided switching the topic would be better for the sake of their plan. If he and Violet were fighting, he wouldn’t be as focused on the plan as he needed to be, and he wouldn’t have that.

It would all take place that night, he had to stay focused. Hell, she had to stay focused too, and it looked like she wasn’t.

“We can’t have anything go wrong tonight, Violet,” Butcher’s voice was softer, his eyes less accusing.

She sighed, sipping her coffee.

“Nothing will, Billy. It’ll be like all the routine jobs we’ve done before. Easy.” She sounded confident, but the look in her eyes told Butcher she was trying to convince him, to convince herself. “Just don’t…”

“Don’t what, love?” Billy looked up at her.

“Don’t use Temp V,” she almost sounded like she was pleading him.

“In a room, no, a whole fucking house full of horny Supes, you expect me to come...unprotected?” He couldn’t help the smile on his lips at his accidental pun.

“You know I’m all for protection, Billy, I am,” she smiled too, her eyes betraying a hint of the same amusement.

“But, don’t you think me and Ben’s enough?”

Her question didn’t really need an answer, of course having Soldier Boy on your side was already enough to stay safe, she was an added bonus.

She locked eyes with the man, setting her cup down, but his own eyes were unwavering.

“I’ll tell you I won’t, if that’s what you wanna hear, love,” his tone was softer than his eyes.

The woman shook her head and sighed.

“That’s not what I want,” she kept shaking her head disapprovingly. “At least don’t bring Hughie into this.”

Butcher strutted around the kitchen, his eyes in hers.

“Like I’ve said, he can make his own choices. Don’t act like you wouldn’t do it if your parents hadn’t made that choice for you.”

That Violet angrier than it should have. Butcher was right, she knew it, deep down. She hadn’t always subscribed to the “whatever it takes” way of thinking, at least not in the way Butcher viewed it, but she had to admit that, sometimes, there was no other way.

Only, to her, this time didn’t justify it.

“We’ve got bloody Soldier Boy, Billy. We’ve got me. How long’s it been since you’ve been able to say that, huh?”

“You make your bed, I make mine,” Billy dismissed her coldly.

Violet opened her mouth to tell him a piece of her mind, but Hughie came in the room at just the right time. He gave her a smile and poured himself a cup of coffee, he knew better than to intervene when these two came head to head.

“If you two use that Temp V,” the woman began, her eyes shifting between the two men intensely, her tone authoritative. “You better hope it makes you goddamn invincible.”

Butcher chortled, shaking his head with a grin.

“Right, love, right.” He dismissed her threat as if it meant nothing.

“Don’t fucking undermine me, you cunt,” the woman spit out. “I might not be able to compel you, but I can still tear you apart.”

Hughie looked on, clutching his cup, praying for something to diffuse the tension. Billy was standing just inches from Violet, his hands in his pockets, waiting for her to snap at him. If she was the first to snap, then maybe what he wanted to say to her wouldn’t seem so bad. She was breathing to try to ground herself, purposely not looking at him, instead, she tried to look to Hughie for support, to ask him to be the voice of reason and not use that shit.

He shook his head, looking down.

“Okay,” she simply said, admitting defeat, letting her arms fall to her sides as she shook her head disappointedly. “Don’t come to me when it comes to bite you in the ass. Because it will.”

She stormed off, and Hughie was ready to come after her, but Butcher stopped him, putting his arm flat across his chest.

“Don’t.” He ordered. “She’ll come ‘round.”

Chapter Text

“Those fuckers,” Ben groaned, his face contorted into an angry frown. “Would you look at that house? It fucking screams ‘I was cool once, please keep lovin’ me’. Assholes.”

Butcher, Hughie and him were watching the house from afar, staying out until enough Supes had arrived. Some had already, and more were coming, all ready to have a time filled with whateve they could possibly want.

Ass, mostly.

Ben was crouched behind a tree, overlooking the property, his eyes not leaving it for one second. Butcher took advantage of the fact that Violet wasn’t here to pull out a metal box.

“Can you believe Herogasm, my creation, now rests in the hands of these two fuckin’ idiots?”

The box made a clinking noise, which turned Ben’s attention from the house to the two men next to him. He looked at the open box and its contents. Two syringes, and two vials of green liquid.

“The fuck are you doing?” He questioned unceremoniously.

Hughie opened his mouth to answer, but Ben shot him a look that made him reconsider.

“Not that that’s any of your fucking business,” Butcher interjected, intent on reminding Soldier Boy that he did not trust him. “But that, my friend, is Temp V.”

He lifted one of the vials up to Ben’s eyes, the sun hitting the liquid, making it appear even greener. Ben took it in his hand to examine it further.

“So, what, does that make you a Supe for a day? Is that it?” He inquired, still toying with the vial.

“Huh-huh,” Butcher nodded. “The lad can teleport. But he ends up flashing everyone when he does. Bloody nasty business, if ya ask me.”

Butcher gestured towards Hughie, who had his arms crossed, one hand resting on his upper-arm, waiting for Soldier Boy to give them back the Temp V. Hoping he’d give it back to them, was more like it.

Ben gave Hughie a once-over and snickered at the thought. He then looked at Butcher, examining the man.

“What about you? Can you do something useful?”

Butcher grinned at that question before he answered.

“Let’s just say that cunt Homelander’s not the only one who can shoot lasers with his eyes.”

Ben laughed in a condescending manner, holding his stomach.

“That’s it? A fuckin’ party trick?”

“I could cut you in half if I wanted to.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Ben stepped closer and Hughie raised his hands to diffuse the tension.

“He’s almost invincible, when he’s on Temp V,” he began, and Soldier Boy seemed to be more interested. “The..the lasers are kinda...cool, yeah. But there’s nothing that can stop him when he takes that.”

Ben stood back a little, analysing the two of them, their expectant faces. He’d heard Violet and them argue about it that morning.

An untested drug from Vought.

One that granted them an undeniable advantage.

He looked down at the vial in his hand then sighed before he handed it back to Butcher, slapping his other hand on Hughie’s back, which made him jump a little.

“Good,” he simply said, averting his gaze and attention back on the house, clenching his jaw.

He didn’t see them shoot it up, but he heard the distinct sound of a syringe being placed back on a metal surface, and his whole body shivered.

He’d heard that sound so many times in the last forty years that he expected to feel the sting of a needle somewhere on his body. Every fibre of his being tensed up, but, when he didn’t feel that familiar sting, he relaxed.

His relaxation only lasted a little while, as, soon, his anger came back to the forefront of his mind. Those TNT Twins in there, they were just as responsible as The Countess for what happened to him. They’d pay for it, he’d make them suffer the same amount of pain he had. He had been too kind when killing The Countess. Perhaps that was because of some remnants of what he thought he had felt for her, so long ago. He wouldn’t show them the same kindness.

He’d make them regret not absorbing each other in their mother’s womb.

Butcher had killed Gunpowder, so that took him off the list. That bastard was lucky he met Butcher before he could get to him. The list shortened, but he wouldn’t stop until each and every one of them paid. Until he knew why they had done that to him.

“Violet’s ready, Butcher,” Hughie’s voice took Ben out of his trance. His ears pricked at the mention of the woman’s name.

“She’s walking towards the door right now.”

Hughie gestured to the earpiece in his ear, he could hear her, but she couldn’t hear him, so he took the flash light from his backpack, looking at Butcher for approval.

“Then let’s crack on, shall we?” He seemed almost cheerful, clapping his hands together before rubbing them.

Hughie nodded and lit the flash light, doing a circular motion with his hand so that Violet could recognize their signal.

He saw her look in their direction and nod.

She smoothed her shirt, wiping the sweat on her hands with it. She knocked and was greeted by the twins themselves.

At least their intel was right on that part, they were here.

In order to compel everyone here, she had to establish visual contact with at least one of her targets.

“Pysche?” Tommy, the male twin, recognized her immediately, his eyes widening in surprise. He extended an arm to her, almost wrapping it around her waist, but she dodged him, shooting him a menacing look. Then she realised she might use that to her advantage and she seemed to soften, gracing him with a smile she’d spent years perfecting at Vought.

The “I’m gonna fuck you over but you’re gonna ask for more” smile.

She lifted her hand and gently placed it on his upper arm, caressing it, as she looked into his eyes. She didn’t even have to use her powers on him, she already had him in the palm of her hand, she thought.

“I’m honoured to finally have you here,” he continued. “I’ve been trying to get you to come for so many years.”

Violet felt her stomach turn, but she smiled nevertheless.

“I know,” she kept stroking his arm.

“And to have you come now? When you’ve been missing for so long?”

His sister scoffed, looking at him like he was trash, which, quite frankly, he was.

“You’re a real dumbass, you know that, Tommy? It’s obvious she wasn’t missing.”

“What do you mean? ‘Course she was! Homelander himself-”

“-Sent her on a top secret mission that needed people to think she wasn’t gonna be around any more.”

Violet nodded, smiling. She didn’t even need to come up with a lie, these idiots did it for her.

“Wow, I should’ve hired you two to help on my top secret mission,” she humoured them. “I’d like to surprise Homelander. He doesn’t know I’ve come back yet. But...I couldn’t miss my first Herogasm before that, could I?”

She was so good at faking it, Hughie thought as he listened in through the earpiece. He’d amped up the sound so that Soldier Boy and Butcher could listen, too, and he couldn’t help but notice the way Ben seemed to have tensed up even more since. He put it on the account of hearing his former team mates. Truth was, as much as that was true, Ben also hated the fact that that useless fuck dared to try to touch Violet and butter her up. That was one more thing he was gonna make him pay for.

“I’m gonna need you both to keep quiet about my presence here, would you do that for me? I’d make it worth your while.”

The twins looked at each other, pondering wether or not it would be worth it. In unison, they agreed to help Psyche keep her secret, and just that easily, Violet was in. 

Chapter Text

As soon as she stepped foot in that house, Violet’s vision was flooded with Supes fucking in all the possible ways, in the impossible ways, too. Everywhere she laid her eyes, people were indulging in their deepest fantasies, not a care in the world for who might be watching. Had her situation not been so...peculiar, Violet would have thought it freeing, almost.

She searched around the house for a room she could isolate herself in so that she could focus, feeling an ever growing overwhelming sensation, she was alert, scanning her surroundings as best she could, given the context.

Back when she lived at the Tower, she’d had to do something like this once or twice, under Stan Edgar and Homelander’s orders. She knew she could compel at least fifty people at the same time, if she really put her all in it. It had been years since she’d done anything that strenuous, and, although she had no doubt she’d succeed for 50 people, she wondered if she could up the numbers, just to be safe. By the looks of it, counting all the Supes and their human fuck-buddies- no...esteemed guests who have signed NDAs, as they’d put it- there were about 70 people in that house. She figured she might as well be sure, so before she isolated herself, she scouted the place, taking a mental note every time she crossed paths with someone. Thankfully, they were all too busy to notice she was there, and if someone did, well, she simply made them focus on something else and forget about her. That was easy, when it wasn’t Homelander standing in front of you, she thought. Everything's easier when it’s not him.

When she was finished scouting the place, she spotted a door and made her way towards it, gently pushing it open to reveal an empty bathroom.

“Oh, thank God,” she chuckled to herself, very glad for the little respite from all the fucking outside that door. “I found a spot,” she then added for the three men waiting for her outside, still listening to her through her earpiece.

She pushed the door but didn’t close it all the way as she needed to maintain eye contact with at least one of her targets, took off her jack, folded it and put it on the edge of the sink before she sat down on the floor, her back pressed against the cold bathtub.

She toyed with her fingers somewhat nervously, breathing in and out to steady her mind, then, she closed her eyes and focused on what she wanted them all to do, trying to find her focal point, deep inside.

A few minutes later, she opened her eyes, locking them on the shape outside the door, which she was fairly certain was three people.

She felt a surge of power run through her, tingling even in the tips of her fingers, she felt serene and confident, and every thing around her seemed to vanish except for her goal which she was picturing so hard in her mind. Nothing except for that image seemed real.

She repeated the same words over and over, like a mantra:

“Three men, three ghosts.”

Her eyes felt like they rolled in the back of her head as she imagined Ben, Billy and Hughie roam around that house unnoticed by all, and she knew it was working.

Sat on the floor, she did not notice the way her nose had started to bleed profusely.

“It’s done, guys,” she informed Hughie in his earpiece, her voice sounded tired, more so than the man had heard her in a long time.

The three men packed up their stuff and headed towards the house, all suspiciously glancing around them, checking for any sign that Violet’s powers had not worked, but the more they progressed inside, the more they realised the full extent of their ally’s abilities.

They walked in unnoticed, walking past people who did not even look up when their legs brushed against them, to all extents, they were invisible.

“I’ll go check the top floor,” Butcher told them assertively. “Hughie, go look for Violet, and if anything goes wrong, you take her outta here.”

“Got it,” Hughie nodded and nervously eyed his surroundings, rubbing his hands together to ground himself.

“I’ll go look for her with you,” Ben ordered more than he told Hughie. “Butcher, look for those idiotic twins and let me know when you found them. Those morons would run if they saw me first.”

Billy nodded, Soldier Boy had a point, it sure would not be smart to have the two people they were after escape.

“I’ll ring Hughie when I find ‘em,” the man said, giving Hughie a smile he wanted to be comforting. “Right, I’m off. Don’t get lost into a pile of horny Supes. Or do, for all I care.”

Butcher snickered as he swaggered away from the other two men, and then, Ben and Hughie were left alone together, and to say the latter was uncomfortable was an understatement. He put his hands in his pockets and stretched his neck to try and spot his friend and Ben, who had put on his Supe suit again for the occasion and was carrying his famous shield, busied himself too, pushing a few doors open, only to reveal things he wouldn’t forget so easily, some he’d maybe like to re-enact with Violet, maybe. If he could find her, that was.

“So, um,” Hughie scratched the back of his head then looked at Soldier Boy, “what do you plan on doing, once you find the twins?”

Soldier Boy turned to face him, slowly, his grip on his shield tightening, his jaw twitching and he swallowed, hard, before he reminded himself that that flimsy dude meant a lot to Violet and, therefore, he couldn’t snap his neck just because he found the sound of his voice so fucking irritating. Instead, he took a deep breath through his nose and glared at him.

“You and I don’t have to talk,” he simply answered, shooting down the last bit of self-confidence Hughie had managed to gather to ask him that question in the first place. “Just focus on finding my girl, okay?”

Hughie’s eyes widened ever so slightly at Soldier Boy’s choice of words, but he knew better than to question that. He rather liked having his head attached to his neck, so he kept quiet about it, but made a mental note to tell Butcher about this later. If Butcher had reacted the way he did when Annie and him first got together, he was curious to see just how he’d react to Violet and Soldier Boy. He’d probably have a field day.

“Right, sorry,” Hughie straightened his back and resumed looking for any sign of his friend.

Soon, Ben spotted a door nearby which was just about open, and heard the very distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh, but not exactly in the same way as he’d heard it in every other room he’d came in inside that house. That triggered his curiosity, and he raised his shield a little, gesturing towards Hughie to tell him to watch his back before he pushed open the door fully, and let out an audible gasp.

He had found Violet.

He had found her, but she wasn’t alone.

His gasp quickly turned into a smirk when he realised what was happening.

She was straddling a man who was laying on the floor, his arms limp at his sides, she was gripping him by the collar of his blood stained shirt, and from the looks of it, he was unconscious. His face was barely recognizable, all puffy and swollen, deep cuts bleeding out onto the bathmat, a small pool of it had already began taking shape. She headbutted him before she let go of him, blowing air out of her mouth to move a loose strand of her hair out of her face.

Hughie almost ran to her side, but Ben stopped him, putting his shielded arm in the way. He shook his head, unable to take his eyes off that woman. He noticed her hands were full of blood, and her eyes...He was taken aback slightly by the colour of her eyes, they were red. Fully red, her irises seemed to be gone. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Hughie.

“Violet? What...What happened?” Hughie pushed past Soldier Boy’s shield and stepped inside the room.

The woman looked up hurriedly, as if she hadn’t heard them come in.

“Hughie?” She asked and Hughie took a step back, his whole face furrowing in surprise, he hadn’t seen her eyes like that before. She had beads of sweat on her forehead, and her hair was wet with sweat, too. He thought she looked like she had ran twelve marathons in an hour. Rough, to say the least.

Her friend nodded, carefully walking around the bathroom to join her so he could help her up. He gently placed an arm on her back and pulled her up, her bloodied hands staining the sleeves of his shirt, she wobbled a little on her feet, and he secured her against his side by wrapping one of his arms around her waist and one of hers around his shoulders.

“What happened, Violet?” He asked again and she looked up at him, a streak of dried up blood under her nose.

“I warned him not to come in,” she replied blankly.

Ben’s eyes kept moving from Violet to Hughie, and, most specifically, where that motherfucker was putting his hands. He gulped, there were things more important than the fact that he wanted to rip that guy’s hand to shreds going on, so he shoved those thoughts aside.

“Did he hurt you?” Ben finally spoke, striding over the man and wrapping his free hand around her waist, glaring at Hughie who rightfully took it as his cue to let go of her.

“He recognized me,” Violet glanced at that man and then between Ben and Hughie.

“Why didn’t you...just tell him to forget that he did?” The younger of the two men asked.

Violet shook her head, taking her eyes off from Ben’s to stare at the pool of blood on the floor. She leaned on Ben further, squeezing his side as she did.

“I’m fried,” she simply replied, then she sighed and closed her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

“Fried?” Ben asked.

“I tried, but I guess I might have overdone it,” she sighed, she seemed disappointed and somewhat out of it, and Ben noticed her eyes went back to their normal colour as she settled. “So I did what always works.”

“And that is?” Ben inquired while Hughie pulled a first aid kit from a drawer.

“Reverted to the old ways,” she grinned and lifted both her bruised fists up to his eyes.

Ben smiled at that, taking one of her hands in his for further inspection.

“Good,” he concluded. “Did he touch you?”

“He tried to, but I-”

The sound of Violet’s voice was cut off by that of Ben’s boot pressing on and then snapping the man’s neck in a loud, wet noise. Hughie gasped as bits of gore sprung from under Soldier Boy’s boot, and the latter groaned.

“Ugh,” he took a towel and wiped it all off, a disgusted look on his face, then carelessly threw the formerly white piece of cloth on the man’s body. “Now you’re sure he won’t rat you out.”

He spoke angrily, he also wanted to say that that would teach the dead asshole to touch what was his, but he thought against it. He’d snap the neck of anyone who approached Violet, Herogasm or not.

His grip on her tightened and his eyes were dark, glaring at the now dead guy on the floor, he let out one final discontented grunt and exited the room with Violet on his arm, barking at Hughie to give her his hoodie and to stay close so he could get her out should they need it.

Chapter Text

“I’m not going anywhere,” Violet stopped walking, letting go of Ben’s arm and crossing her arms over her chest.

“What use are you gonna be here now?” Ben’s voice was harsher than he had intended. Still, he looked at her sternly, as if he had not just killed a man for virtually no reason other than the fact he had laid his hands on her, or rather, tried to.

“Excuse me?” The woman scoffed. “Tell me, asshole, who was it that made sure you could get in?”

Ben scoffed too, shaking his head with a bitter smile.

“While also not thinking to include herself in her little display of power?”

Hughie wanted to intervene, but he thought better not to. He had to admit Soldier Boy was right, Violet had been careless not to include herself, but she had also managed to increase the range of her power, which was why she couldn’t include herself, he figured.

“Hughie, get her out,” Ben ordered.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” the woman threatened, her eyes shooting arrows at the two men. “Don’t even think about taking a step closer, Campbell.”

Hughie stayed back and watched his friend put on his sweatshirt and cross her arms over her chest again, her foot tapping angrily. Ben huffed and took her by the arm to pull her aside, she glared at him.

“Leave, Violet,” he tried to sound softer, but there was still a harshness to his tone.

“You don’t get to order me around just because you’re angry at the whole world today, Ben,” she immediately shut him down. “I’m not Payback.”

She saw his fist ball up at her words and the twitching in his jaw, betraying how angry they made him.

“Don’t,” he barked, cornering her, towering over her as he pressed her back against the nearby wall.

“I’m not,” she didn’t deflect, he didn’t scare her, not any more, not after everything they’d shared now, “I am not your old fucking teammates. And I am not a doll for you to order around.”

“That’s not-”

She shook her head, locking her eyes in his.

“I’m not done,” she smiled wryly ad his eyes seemed to soften a little for a second before he was back to himself. “I get that you’re angry, I do. But I will not do to you what they’ve done. I thought I’d made that clear.”

“You did,” he sighed and placed a hand on her waist.

“Then don’t treat me like them. I’d die before I’d even think of doing that to you.” She put her hand on top of his, squeezing his fingers ever so slightly, and he put his forehead against her, digging his own fingers into her skin. They both closed their eyes as Ben’s forehead touched Violet’s, finding a sudden sense of peace as they did.

He sighed shakily and reluctantly pulled away, reminded by the lewd sounds around them that they were not free to act as they wanted, they had to do what they came here to do. As Ben pulled away, Violet opened her eyes and, out of their corner, she spotted Hughie observing them intently. He had one hand pressed against his ear and Violet tutted, remembering she had not taken her earpiece out, so she did and walked back over to Hughie, her face closed off. She slapped it into her friend’s hand with a knowing look. He seemed embarrassed to have been caught snooping, so he gave her an uneasy smile.

“Violet-”

She shook her head, silently telling him not to justify himself.

“I still think you should leave,” Ben continued gently, grabbing her arm again. “At least get some rest.”

Hughie silently agreed, but Violet shook her head.

“I spent too long hiding, I’m not doing that any more. I feel better already.”

The last part was a lie, and quite an obvious one at that, but there was no way she’d leave her team, not when it mattered so much now.

“Don’t be stubborn,” Ben shook his head.

“Says the King of Stubborn-Land,” she replied with a dry smile. “I’m staying, and that’s the end of it.”

Ben sighed, but he knew there was no reasoning with Violet, especially when she was like this. If that conversation had happened when they first met, they’d probably have ended up tearing at each other’s throats, he thought, and then he smiled to himself when he looked at her again. That woman was a constant pain in his ass, always challenging him, always calling him out on his bullshit, and, for some reason, she was still around. He kind of enjoyed that pain in his ass, he understood that now. She was still around, because he wanted her to be.

Hughie handed her a wet wipe from the first aid kit he had taken in the bathroom so she could at least clean herself up a little and stand out less. He and Soldier Boy exchanged a look, the Supe nodded and Hughie understood what was expected of him, what Butcher, too, would want.

The three of them walked back to the main room of the house, and Hughie let out a sincere “shit”, which prompted Violet to follow his gaze and the same word fell out of her mouth.

“Who the hell is this clown?” Ben inquired when he spotted the man who had elicited such a reaction from his current partners, as much as he hated to think of Hughie Campbell as his partner.

He failed to see what was so intimidating about a man whose costume was a green-scaled glorified swimsuit. What harm would that idiot do, except maybe molest sea creatures?

“That guy looks like a complete dumbass,” he scoffed, then smirked, amused by how much the costumes issued by Vought had changed from his time.

“Oh, trust me, he is a complete dumbass. But he’s one of The Seven,” Violet turned her eyes away from him and back on Ben.

“Well, formerly,” Hughie corrected. He wondered whether he should get her out now, but his gut told him not to. Butcher would probably give him an earful, but, to that, he was quite used, now.

“Right, formerly,” Violet nodded before she continued. “That’s The Deep.”

“The Deep? What kind of stupid ass name is that?” Ben couldn’t hold the smile creeping on his lips.

“Fits the stupid ass man using it,” the woman looked back at The Deep, her jaw clenched and her fists balled up against her sides.

“So that guy’s dangerous?” Ben asked incredulously.

“Not on his own,” Violet shook her head. “But he’s Homelander’s bitch, he’ll tell him everything he wants to hear, true or not.”

“That Homelander guy really sounds like somethin’ else, huh?” Ben thought out loud.

“Yeah, he’s, uh...something,” Hughie concurred. “Everyone at Vought’s too scared to do anything about him.”

“I know that much, dickwad. That’s the reason behind your little vigilante group.”

Hughie and Violet both had the same offended looks on their faces, and Ben rolled his eyes, then stretched his shoulders in circular motions.

“The Boys aren’t some shitty vigilante group, you dried up cunt,” Violet frowned. “It never was, even at its beginning.” She was always defensive when it came to her team, to her friends. To her, they were the best to ever do it, however controversial their ways may be, they worked, and things had indeed changed since they had begun. The sole fact that Vought had issued a missing person warning for her was proof enough, and Ben knew it, he was just enjoying taking the piss at their expense, to get a rise out of her, and maybe even out of Hughie.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart,” Ben dismissed her with a wave of her hand, the use of the word sweetheart just to tease her. He was the first American Supe, he was a symbol for all superheroes in America, in the world, he pointed and laughed at vigilantes. “I’m not saying you aren’t good, I’m just saying, when you look at it, that’s what you are.”

“CIA agents are just vigilantes to you then, huh? Is that it?”

They were bickering as they always did when Hughie pulled Violet towards him hurriedly, pretending he was going to kiss her, cupping both her cheeks as he made her turn on her feet. She glanced to the side and saw The Deep walk right past her, a suspiciously wet plastic bag in his hand.

When the path was clear and the man had entered a room and closed the door behind him, Hughie let Violet go.

“Thanks, Hugh,” the woman nodded sharply and smoothed her clothes, taking a step back, glancing at Ben who’s jaw was so clenched she’d have sworn he might break some teeth. “Best stay focused.”

“Yeah, focused,” Ben repeated coldly. “While we wait for the British trench coat to find the Twins, we’ll keep movin’.”

The other two agreed, and they wandered around to the main living room area. It was filled from floor to ceiling with Supes, all busy exploring one another in all sorts of ways. Hughie’s eyes widened when he saw one of them fashion a dildo out of ice and almost shove it into another, he averted his gaze and braced himself as they all entered further into the room.

They were almost done with exploring the whole of the ground floor when a man’s voice came from behind them, and the three of them jolted back to see who could possibly have seen them.

“So you really are working with him,” the voice said in a disappointed tone.

“M.M?” Hughie asked, surprised that M.M had managed to see them even after Violet’s compelling, until he remember she had given Marvin the same vial she had given him, which mean that she couldn’t compel them.

As Hughie spoke, Annie, who had come here with M.M, seemed to shake off a sort of trance and finally notice they were here, Violet hadn’t had time to give her a vial. She glared at Hughie, shaking her head. Hughie was here, with Soldier Boy, and so was Violet. She huffed, she couldn’t believe it.

“Annie told me you were best buddies with Soldier Boy, V, but I didn’t wanna believe it,” M.M picked up the matter again, crossing his arms over his chest, his leather jacket creasing as he did, he shook his head, too, sucking his teeth. “I said, ‘nah, Annie, Violet’s too smart to pull some dumb shit like that’, but here it is.”

Chapter Text

“I know how this looks, Marvin,” Violet admitted reluctantly. “But-”

“Really? You know how this looks?” M.M huffed. “Let me tell you how it looks, alright? It looks live you’ve sided with one of the worst pieces of shit humankind has ever borne and you’re completely fine with it.”

Annie and Hughie had split a little from the group, arguing about their situation and Ben had taken a few paces back, his back to them all, keeping watch. He was growing more and more impatient by the second, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on the Twins, couldn’t wait to make them pay tenfold for what they had done to him.

“I know you have history with the guy,” Violet began but was very quickly cut off by Marvin.

“A history? Violet, that man’s got the blood of my whole family on his hands, and you’d expect me to work with him? You can’t be serious. I let it slide when Butcher did it, because he always does shit like this, but you don’t. Not you, V, never you.”

Violet sighed, she knew of his past with Soldier Boy, she knew how much pain the events of that one night so long ago had caused him, how much pain it still caused him, but life had offered them a chance, a proper one, for once, to actually end Homelander, and Vought at the same time, if they played their cards right. That, to her, would be foolish to overlook. She knew M.M wouldn’t understand, but she also knew it deep into her soul that Ben would be the solution to all of this mess. That’s why she had made that split second decision to help him, when he got out of his pod. Not out of kindness, not out of sympathy. Because she knew this was their shot.

“But I guess maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree,” M.M kept pressing on the matter, his tone heated, biting. “He might not be your father, but he’s shaped you to be just like him.”

Violet scoffed, shaking her head, then, she sighed and locked eyes with Marvin. He was unyielding, his eyes unwavering, his stance stiff.

“I’m not him” Violet protested, feeling frustration growing. “I didn’t need shaping, I managed perfectly fine before he came along, and, then you all.”

“Is this what you call managing perfectly fine? Soldier Boy, Violet? You know he’s gonna blow this whole place up and kill everyone here, don’t you?”

The woman shook her head, offering her friend an olive branch by smiling softly. It didn’t take and M.M rolled his eyes.

“Marvin, you’ve got to trust me on this,” she began telling him about their plan, that she would come in first and compel everyone not to notice them, which was why Annie didn’t seem to pick up on them until M.M had shaken the confusion out of her by speaking directly to them. Then, once Butcher had found the twins, Violet would compel all the attendees to flee, so that Ben could handle his former team mates without killing innocents.

M.M refused to get on board with their way of doing things, countering all her arguments with what he and Annie would do.

“Your way will only cause panic, Marvin,” she spoke softly, not trying to anger him more by contradicting him. “My way will ensure everybody gets out without a fuss, without raising suspicions.”

“Your way includes Soldier Boy. He’s blown up a street just last month!”

“That was different,” she shook her head. “This is different.”

“Different how?”

Violet turned to look at Ben, making sure he was still out of earshot. It wouldn’t be wise to anger him further and cause him to actually kill every living soul in that house by having him hear M.M’s words. He still had his back turned to them.

“Ben is,” Violet simply answered, as if this would be enough for Marvin to trust in their plan now.

“Ben? V, that guy’s not better than Homelander, as far as I’m concerned. You don’t see me walkin’ around calling Homelander John, do you?”

“I..,” Violet sighed, defeated. “Two years ago, I would have agreed with you.”

“And you don’t now?”

“No, because the world has changed in the last two years. Vought has changed, you have changed.”

“But the rules haven’t, kid. I’m trying to set an example for my daughter. What kind of example would I be if I allied myself with the man who killed my daughter’s grandfather, huh?”

“The kind of man who does what’s gotta be done so his daughter can actually have a life.”

M.M opened his mouth, his eyes showing how angry and frustrated he was that this was now his reality. That Violet had chosen this path, and that he couldn’t make her see how wrong it was.

Truth was, Violet knew perfectly well how wrong it was, and it was eating away at her, to know that Ben had indeed done all those awful things, and that it now went far beyond him just being a solution to their problem. Yet she still chose to carry on, every day, she made that choice,  and she would stand by it. She had given him her word, more than her word, actually. There was no backing out of this now, and she wouldn’t, even if she could.

As M.M opened his mouth, Violet felt someone’s cold hand brush against her wrist. She turned around and came face to face with Annie, who hadn’t intended to touch her, and adorned a surprised look on her face when she jolted back.

“Annie..”

“Don’t, Violet, there’s really nothing you can say that would make any of this right,” Annie shot her down, almost shoving her out of the way to get next to M.M. They stood shoulder to shoulder, observing how Hughie, Ben and Violet behaved around each other.

Hughie bent down a little to get down to Violet’s ear, whispering something which made her look around rapidly, then at the phone in Hughie’s hand, gripping it tightly as she spoke into it. Soldier Boy nodded after Violet looked up at him with a sharp bow of her head, he puffed his chest and barely even spoke a word or looked at them before he exited the room, pushing people out of the way as he did. He turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.

“Something’s going on,” Annie said hurriedly, getting closer to the two of them, closely followed by M.M.

Hughie and Violet looked at them, eyes wide. Hughie’s forehead was beaded with sweat, his hand still clutched the phone Violet had put back in it seconds ago.

“I’ll go find a quiet spot,” Violet spoke fast as she gestured towards the door.

“He found them, hasn’t he?” M.M asked, already knowing the answer. “Motherfucker.”

He cursed under his breath again.

“Y-yes,” Hughie muttered. “Annie, listen. Violet’s got this under control. Get out of here, take M.M and run.”

Annie scoffed, shaking her head incredulously.

“I’m not going no-motherfucking-where,” M.M asserted, anchoring his feet further on the floor as if to show Hughie he was welcome to try and move him.

Violet sighed, turning to look at them just as she was about to exit the room.

“Please...trust me on this, Marvin,” she pleaded, then, as she saw no reaction on the man’s face, she slumped her shoulders, then breathed in and straightened her back.

“Like hell I’m letting you work with Soldier Boy,” M.M stormed out of the room in the same direction Ben had, which prompted Annie and Hughie to follow him, running out.

“I’ll get everyone out in two minutes if you’re not done with it,” Annie ordered more than she told Violet, and the two women exchanged a look full of unsaid words before they parted ways.

Now that she was alone, Violet opened a nearby door which revealed an empty closet, she left the door partially open, still maintaining eye contact with at least one of the attendees.

On the first floor, Butcher paced around, trying to look as inconspicuous as he could so as not to alert the twins. He had them in his vision, they were arguing about hidden cameras in one of the toilets.

Soon, Butcher heard footsteps in the stairs behind him, and Soldier Boy joined him. The two of them didn’t exchange one word, but Butcher tilted his chin towards the twins, placing his palm flat against the Supe’s armoured chest, signalling for him to wait until the area was clear. The air was filled with electricity as both men stared each other down. Ben had had enough of being patient, of all that bullshit that day, all the waiting around. He already imagined the way it would feel when he finally got his hands on those betraying roaches.

Chapter Text

Annie kept her eyes on her watch closely.
Two minutes.
She had given Violet exactly two minutes to get everyone out of that house and she prayed to God it would be enough. Somehow, she still wanted to trust that Violet hadn’t gone completely stupid and that she knew what she was doing. Still, she kept a close watch on the time, ready to step in if it came to that.

Violet was sat cross-legged on the floor of the small closet she had gotten in, trying to ground herself and ignore the budding feeling inside her that she had just switched on a ticking time-bomb.
Two minutes.
That should be long enough to get everyone out.
It had to be, anyway.

She felt her nerves settle as her body tingled in a familiar manner, and she pictured them all exiting the house without a fuss. It was as if the house had gone completely quiet as she focused intently on her goal, and her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she let herself get submerged by her own energy. She couldn’t hear anything, she was too far gone to even notice if it was working or not, she just had to trust her gut.

Her gut had never betrayed her. She had never let herself down. Today was not about to be the first time she did. When times were hard, she kept going, not because she had faith in the world, or in anyone else for that matter. She kept going before she had faith in herself, because she knew she’d get the job done. She’d always gotten the job done. Today was not going to be any different.

Suddenly, the door jolted open, prompting Violet to lose her focus and open her eyes quickly as a drop of what she assumed, hoped, was water splashed on her forehead. It took her out of her trance and her eyes immediately widened in shock as she shuffled hurriedly to put some distance between her and the man who had just opened the door. Her back was to the wall and some coats touched her shoulders as she moved back.

In the doorway stood The Deep, along with the wet bag she had noticed him carry earlier, which, she now realised, held a very much alive octopus. The man’s eyes fell on her and the surprised look he had was quickly replaced by a smug grin. He seemed to be thrilled with what he had laid his eyes on. More thrilled by that than by the reason he’d come into that closet in the first place.
“Well, well, well, isn’t that my dear friend Psyche?” His smirk stayed there as he spoke, fully stepping inside the closet, effectively cornering her between him and the wall. His feet were almost on her legs, nudging her. He locked the door behind them, shutting her away from the guests. Shutting her away from her mission.

“I know someone who’s gonna be very happy to know about this,” he continued.
Violet shook off her initial panic and scoffed as she struggled to get back on her feet. They were now standing too close for comfort, the tips of their shoes touching, their faces merely inches apart.
“Maybe you’ll finally be able to get your tongue out of his ass long enough to tell him about this, then,” she snarled, firmly standing her ground. She knew very well who he was talking about. It was obvious. That man lived and breathed to suck up to the Captain of The Seven.

Back when she worked for Vought, she knew The Deep from afar, they were put together on
a few orchestrated team-ups, but that was about all. It had still been long enough for her to realise
he was a lost cause. He was too stupid to realise he was screwing himself, more than anyone else, by siding with the company responsible for it all.

“Or maybe I won’t need to tell him.” The man came even closer to her, setting down his octopus buddy on the small shelf, with a wet plop, and then trapping her between his arms. His palms were flat against the wall on each sides of her face. “I’ll just show him.”
And with that, he violently grabbed Violet by the hair and banged her head on the rod behind them, the shock making some of the hangers on it clatter on the floor. The wooden pole stayed in place as he continued to bash her head against it repeatedly, the sounds of her skull thudding against the material echoing in the small closet. She could barely lift her arms to grab the rod and resist The Deep’s push as he let out an almost cartoonish laugh.

“Would you look at that,” he smirked. “I’m stronger than you, now.”

The woman felt blood trickle down her forehead, from her hairline, and from her nose and then onto her lips, as she tried to push him off again, slamming her elbow in his temple, but he swiftly avoided her and crushed her arm effortlessly in his hand.

She let out a pained yelp as it dawned on her that she had made a mistake, coming into that house and tiring herself so much that she couldn’t use her own powers to defend herself, even on him.
She’d always considered him a weak link.
She had overlooked him, that was yet another mistake of hers.

Nevertheless she tried to compel him, and, although he was not immune to her, she failed, and he laughed as he understood that she was struggling against him.
“What, lost all your juice, little bitch?” He mocked her, his hand still in her hair.
“Fuck you,” she spat, her spit and her blood mixing as they hit his face.

The moment the spit spluttered on the man’s face, he jerked back and dragged the back of his hand across his cheek to wipe it off.
Violet used that split second to shove him out of her way, using his lack of focus to force him into stumbling into the main room behind them, the hinges from the closet door springing loose as they both broke through it.

But the mere amount of energy that took out of her made her knees wobble and stars cloud her vision.

The Deep puffed his chest and successfully threw a punch in her direction, pulling her with him as he fell out of the closet, his fist hitting her temple. He quickly regained his footing and fisted a handful of her hair, twisting his hand into it to secure it around his wrist. Violet winced; it had been a very long time since she had gotten her ass kicked like that.

Chapter Text

In the next room, Annie, unaware of what was going on with Violet, stood on a coffee table when she heard the timer on her watch go off. 

She'd given some thought to what she could say to a house full of Supes to get the to get the hell out quickly. At first, she thought "fire", but soon realised that some folks here could fix that faster than A-tRain could run through another one of Hughie's girlfriends. 

Then she figured it out. The one thing they all had in common there. Their image. No one there could afford to have their reputation ruined. 

"Everyone, the press is outside!" She yelled, gathering a few people around her and making a few other look up in curiosity. "A van full of reporters and cameras just parked out front!"

"What? How the hell did they find out about this? I thought we were supposed to be safe!" One of the guests shouted and all of them concurred, shuffling to get their stuff and leave as fast as they could. 

"This way," Annie gestured towards the backyard, full of trees and shade. It was their safest bet, she thought. If they all stayed in the furthest part, they'd be safe. At least they'd all be in the same place, under her and Hughie's watch. 

Word soon got to all the guests that the press was supposedly there and a general sense of panic set in, prompting them all to gather at the only exit leading to the garden. Some of them tried pushing and shoving their way out, only adding to the general panic. Amidst all that chaos, neither Annie, nor Hughie, nor Violet noticed each other. 

Upstairs, Supes began noticing the commotion from downstairs and the same apprehension set in, although they hadn't heard the rumour Annie invented and all sorts of things could be heard. 

Soldier Boy had been quicker than M.M and had reached the top of the stairs before people started huddling in there to get out. The latter, on the other hand, hadn't been so lucky and was currently struggling to get up the stairs when everyone else pushed to get down. It was his own personal nightmare. Naked and scared people rubbing all over him, covered in all sortrs of fluids and nowhere to run, no chance of escaping. 

The TNT Twins noticed something was wrong and turned around, only noticing Butcher, at first. 

But then, their eyes met a ghost's. Soldier Boy was standing there, how on earth could that be? They, too, tried to hurry towards the nearest exit, to no avail. 

Ben merely lifted a finger and it was enough to stop them dead in their tracks. They folded like the worthless pieces of shit they were. 

Ina  flow of insincere words, they explained how sorry they were, how it wasn't their doing, but Ben didn't hear them. 

He was nothing but pure, blind rage. 

His chest rose and fell frighteningly calmly, his eyes were screwed onto them. 

Butcher wasn't the kind of man who got easily scared, but if he had been, he'd have shit running down his legs right now. The Temp V in his blood only enhanced his brazenness and how little he cared wether something happened to him or not. 

The twins, however, were soon going to turn liquid from fear. Sweat was already trickling down their foreheads, and, for the first time in years, they were holding hands. Not ouf of love, not out of bravery, but because it was the only way they could get the little power they had left, after neglecting them for years, to wake up and ignite whatever was left of their former so called glory. 

They had never been brave, and today was not going to be the day they'd start. 

"Soldier Boy," Tommy shakily whispered. Then, he scratched his throat and spoke louder, his voice still a clear indicator of his fear. "We had nothing to do with Nicaragua, I swear."

Ben finally snapped out of it and took a step towards the twins who let out a cowardly whimper. 

Butcher noticed how strikingly calm Soldier Boy seemed to be, and how terrifying it must be for the twins. 

"Who?" Ben strifed to sound as collected as he could. His hands were white-knuckling his shield and his jaw was so tight Butcher thought he'd break his teeth if he stayed like that a minute longer. 

"It...It was Noir, I swear." Tommy said pleadingly. "He orchestrated it all, we had nothing-"

"Noir?" Soldier Boy cut him off. "He wouldn't."

"But it was," Tessa insisted. "He planned it all and pitched it to The Countess and we-"

"Are going to die just like her," Ben cut her off too, taking a step closer. "You're gonna pay."

The twins whimpered again and looked to Butcher for support, who shook his head. He wasn't about to be the one to keep Soldier Boy from getting his revenge. He was careless at times, but he wasn't out of his mind just yet. 

"Please," they pleaded and Ben scoffed. 

"You know, I expected better from the two of you. I always knew you were too stupid to come up with a plan like that on your own, See, even when you try to be brave, you disappoint me yet again," Ben enunciated every word sternly, as if he'd been scolding naughty children. "You didn't deserve to be in Payback. You never had what it took and...look at you two now... Worthless."

"We did our best to-"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER," Ben shouted and the twins jumped back. "You know what they did to me?"

They shook their heads.

"You didn't care, did you?"

Ben's question remained unanswered and he crossed the gap between them to grab Tommy by the neck, squeezing hard, watching the life drain from his eyes. 

Then, just as he was about to run out of air, Ben let go and Tommy took in a ragged breath, taking a few steps back while massaging his throat. 

"Imagine that, for forty fucking years," Ben added. 

"It's all Noir's fault, you gotta let us go," Tommy pleaded. 

As the words left the twin's mouth, Ben grabbed his neck again, only, this time, he didn't hold back. The man's neck felt like warm butter in his hand, and it snapped like a twig at the slightest squeeze. Tommy's body fell to the floor in an almost satisfying thump and his sister's begging grew relentless. She didn't even acknowledge her brother's death, didn't even so much as look at him, didn't cry for him. She argued that her brother forced her to take part in that plan, that she had nothing to do with it and that she'd rather have died than betray him. 

"Great, that's what you'll do then," Ben simply said coldly. 

Tessa tried running past Butcher and Ben but realised she was trapped. The stair's were still not empty and the only way out she could think of was to jump of the window. She tried blasting through, but, without her brother, only managed to make a tiny crack in it. 

Ben shook his head, almost looking disappointed and glanced at Butcher who nodded at him. He stretched his neck from one side to the other and ran, spearing through Tessa at full speed, sending the two of them to collide with the window and crash through it. 

M.M took a much needed breath of fresh air when he reached the top of the stairs and broke free of the huddle, looked down, his hands on his knees, catching his breath. He looked up hurriedly upon hearing the loud crashing sound from the window and understood right away. He locked eyes with Butcher who couldn't contain the pleased smirk on his lips. The two men walked closer to the hole Soldier Boy and the remaining twin had made, peeking out to see that they had fallen right into the backyard, where a bunch of panicked supes gathered around them. 

A big, tall, fat man with a huge dick wrapped around his body, who had been singing to try and soothe himself and the others, stopped and offered his hand to Soldier Boy, not recognizing who he had in front of him. 

"Love Sausage, is what they call me," he announced with a thick Russian accent. "I imagine you were doing it against the window there and got...carried away, huh?" He laughed and resumed his singing, encouraging some of the more uncomfortable people to join him. 

A few voices rose, singing along to the Russian lullaby Love Sausage had taught them. Ben's ears began ringing, not from the fall, but from something he couldn't pleace. All he knew was that whenever that man spoke or sang, he felt like he was back in that pod and hadn't escaped at all. 

"Something like that," Be, struggled to say as he gestured, pulling out his arm from the woman's chest and watched as her body plopped on the grass. She was dead, lying in a pool of her own blood. 

Ben threw her heart on the ground and wiped his hand on the big guy's shoulder, leaving a trail of blood and gore on the poor guy's hairy shoulder. 

The latter took his hand away, jerking back and cursed, uttering a few Russain words in the process. Ben knew those words, for forty years, he'd heard so-called doctors and experts speak around him like he wasn't there, bleeding and waiting for death. He'd recognize that language anywhere. He panted, holding his own chest, his nails digging into his suit. In a quick move, he swiped his unshielded arm to try and keep people away, but it only prompted them to come closer to see what the fuck was going on. 

He let out a pained scream as a surge of indescribable pain took over every nerve in his body and he felt himself lose control. He closed his eyes and surrendered; there was no other way. 

M.M and Butcher witnessed it all unfold from inside the house. It was as if time had slowed down before they, too, along with everyone outside and on that side of the house, felt the floor and walls shake before blowing away. 

Chapter Text

As the fog cleared out from the room, M.M and Butcher struggled to extract themselves from the rubble. Their ears were ringing, and they soon realised the explosion had sent them flying straight into the staircase, effectively blocking the top floor from fallen pieces of walls. They had glass lodged into their skin, as well as dirt and dust. Butcher finally managed to get back on his feet, wobbling to help M.M up, but the latter cursed him out, shoving him out of his way as he, too, stood up, leaning on the wall behind him. Billy stumbled. 

"Stay the hell away from me, Butcher," Marvin warned him, dusting himself off. "You knew this was gonna happen, motherfucker." 

Butcher grinned. 

"If that's what it takes to be rid of a few more of these Supe cunts, it's fine by me." 

M.M scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly. 

"Frenchie found something to stop Soldier Boy, what the Russians used in that lab," he told Billy, but it wasn't just to inform him; it was a threat too. "Halothane."

"Good job, lads," the English man grinned. "Took ya long enough."

"I wont hesitate to use it, on him...and on you.," M.M spoke frankly. He didn't see Butcher now, he saw a man who had fucked up one too many times. 

"I'd like to see that," Butcher provoked him and Marvin lunged towards him, his fist colliding with his jaw. 

Punch after punch, they soon made it down the stairs and into the living room where they saw the full extent of Soldier Boy's outburst. Dust, rubble and bodies littered every inch of the room. Some miraculous survivors were screaming, crying and that stopped the two men dead in their tracks. They stood there, taking it all in, the chaos, the destruction. 

Then, they saw it. A man rose from the ground, throwing plaster out of his way with one hand as his other hand pulled a woman up by her hair. She was, at best, unconscious. Her nose seemed to be broken and bled profusely and bruises had formed on her cheekbones, along with a cut on one side of her face. Judging by the look of it, she must have been standing under where the upper floor collapsed. 

M.M took a step closer. It was Violet. His heart raced. Was she dead? No, she couldn't be. She was tougher than that. She was tougher than The Deep, for fuck's sake. He took another step closer but Butcher stopped him, laying his forearm flat on his chest. 

"You're hurt, M.M," he stated simply. 

"What? You think I can't take the fucking Deep, is that it?" Marvin scoffed. "And you can?"

"Better safe than sorry, right?" Billy smirked, imitating a syringe into his arm. M.M grabbed him by the collar of his dusty coat. 

"You took fucking Temp V again?" He whispered angrily. "Damn it, Butcher. The one time you say something wise you pull some kind of bullshit like that." 

As M.M's voice rose with his anger, The Deep turned around, looking for the source of the voices. As he spotted them, his eyes lit up. 

"William Butcher," Deep couldn't believe his eyes. Homelander would thank him so much for finding the two people he'd been looking for for so long. "Homelander's on his way. He'll be so-"

"Great, that's what was missing from this party: the Big Cunt in Chief.."

"You're gonna joke a lot less when we take you to the Tower."

Butcher shrugged. That wasn't his main concern at the moment. He glanced at the woman laying limp next to the Supe and felt a surge of distress. She couldn't be dead. He refused to even consider the possibility. 

"You know, I hope for your sake that woman's not dead, yeah? Big boss man isn't gonna take kindly to the guy who took the pleasure of killing her from him." He tried his best to grin but eagerly waited for the slightest sign that she was alive and he could almost feel M.M trying his best to resist the urge to check on her. Some things just never change. No matter how angry M.M was at her, and he was sure he was pissed, he'd never wish her dead. He was too much of a softie for that. 

Marvin was angrier than he'd ever been at Violet, yes. But he prayed to God he'd get the chance to tell her and try to make her see things for how they really were. He prayed that Annie and Hughie weren't among the poor dead fuckers in the rubble. 

"She's not," Deep told them. "I know her worth." 

The two men let out an almost imperceptible breath of relief and watched as The Deep shook their friend awake. Since shaking her didn't seem to work, he resorted to slapping her. He slapped her twice before Violet opened her eyes lazily. It was apparent she was struggling to keep them open. She brought a hand to her temple and groaned. 

"Don't be so dramatic," Deep rolled his eyes. 

The woman looked up at him and spat some of the blood that had gathered in her mouth. 

"Go fuck yourself," she said in a raspy voice. "Is your little buddy lost? Where is he? The one with the blond hair, not the tentacles, I mean."

"He'll be here," Deep pulled on her hair and she winced. He lifted her up by the hair and made her stand up, securing her with his hand around her waist, gripping her tight. 

"I hope he gets there before our friend comes back," Butcher threatened, looking around for any kind of makeshift weapon. 

"What friend? Fucking Starlight? Or her Plain Jane boyfriend?" 

Butcher chortled. 

"Guess again," he slid his hands in his coat pockets and shook his head. "Try some type of 'Hero of the Nation, fallen in the line of duty' kind of horseshit."

The Deep seemed to think hard on this, meaning he hadn't heard Vought's suspicions on Soldier Boy's return. Still shunned, it seemed. Violet took advantage of the fact that he was distracted to shove him away, reaching for a piece of pipe sticking out from the rubble. She was wobbly on her feet, but the adrenaline was all she needed. It wouldn't be long until Homelander got here, and she'd be damned if she let him have any kind of advantage. The Deep had to be taken out. In a brief moment of clarity, she gathered all her remaining strength and plunged the pipe in his side, right where his gills were. His breath grew rugged. She took it out and stabbed him in the same place a few more times. He grunted in pain with each of her strikes, and when she finally decided she'd done enough, he clamped his hands on his sides. 

"You bitch!" He yelled and that only prompted Violet to bash in his knees with a slab of cement. At the third time, M.M stopped her, his hand grabbing the bloodied slab from her hand. 

"He's not gonna be able to get up now," he told her. "Get some rest. And you, Deep, stay down, or I'm letting her finish what she started."

She looked at him with crazed eyes, out of breath and stars in her vision. She wobbled back, stumbling against debris. Butcher caught her, a hand on her back. He sat her down on a nearby coffee table and crouched next to her, cupping her face with his bruised hand, examining her. He tilted her head to get a better look at her broken nose. She glanced at M.M. 

"Marvin, I..." She started, her chin up and Butcher's hand under it. 

"Don't," he interrupted her. "Don't give me your 'I'm sorry' bullshit, alright? This? That's on you." 

"M.M," Butcher cut him off.

"No, Butcher," he shook his head. "I want you both to look at this mess and know that you did this. Not me, not Homelander. You two. You brought Soldier Boy here and killed all these people."

His words resonated in Violet's mind and she jerked her head away from Butcher's hands. She knew he was right, of course. She failed, and because of that all those people were either dead of seriously injured. She had seen Ben fall out of the window with one of the twins, she had seen him lose control. All because she couldn't do what she came to do. 

"Wait, Soldier Boy?" The Deep spoke up, still unable to walk. "Isn't he-"

"Am I not what?" Soldier Boy emerged from the backyard through the burst bay window, full of grass, dirt and blood. He gave the room a quick glance and seemed to shrug off what had happened. He spotted Violet sat on the coffee table and walked over to The Deep. He didn't need to have been there to know what he did to her. "I saw a guy with a cape circling the place a few times. Haven't seen him in a minute though," he told them all. 

"Homelander, I told you he'd come!" Deep cried out happily before Soldier Boy crashed his shielded arm in his cheekbone. The force from the blow made The Deep's body almost ripple against the ground and the man passed out. 

Soldier Boy then silently walked past Marvin, not even acknowledging his presence and rested his shield against the coffee table where Violet was sat. He looked at Butcher's hand on her knee, at how they were placed and decided he could keep his hands, for now. Violet looked up at him. Although he had clearly been in the centre of the explosion, he didn't seem to have been hurt. He was dirty, yes, but not hurt. He looked tired, she thought, but as he stood inches behind her, his thigh almost brushing her shoulder blades, she felt a sense of relief. 

"Homelander, is that your guy?" He asked and Butcher nodded. 

"M.M," Butcher looked up and away from Violet for a second. "Get out of here. Find Hughie." 

"How many times do I have to tell you? I don't take orders from you anymore," Marvin answered angrily. His jaw was tight and his eyes locked on Soldier Boy. He loathed that man. He wanted to wait until Homelander got there to use the vial of Halothane he had on him. Maybe that'd work on that guy too and then... He grunted but before he could do or say anything else, he noticed Butcher look past him into a corner of the room and nod sharply. He opened his mouth to protest again, but felt two scrawny arms wrap tightly around his torso. His stomach twisted and he let out a scared "what the fuck?" when he felt the floor almost dissolve under his feet. 

M.M vanished in a second, leaving behind three piles of clothes. 

Soldier Boy held out his hand to help Violet up, but Butcher had already began walking away with her. A deafening sound, like a landing plane made the remaining windows shake, but this time, it wasn't coming from Soldier Boy. 

"William, Violet," a voice sounded from behind them. "It's been a while." 

"Can't say I'm glad," Butcher replied sarcastically. 

Violet froze, her whole body felt like pins and needles. That voice. She'd recognize it anywhere. It was him. The man who kept her up at night, the man who haunted her even after years of being freed from his tyranny. They hadn't been in the same room for years and she didn't understand why she felt so...scared. There was no other word for it, there was no denying it. It was just plain old fear. Like a civilian. Like a normal human. She was angry, yes, but he still terrified her and she hated that he still had that effect on her, after everything. 

He was the only person in the world that scared her. And man, did he do it well. 

"And I take it that's Soldier Boy, then," Homelander said a little too detached, too disappointed, as if he had expected more from that meeting. "So it's true. You are back. How?" He crossed the room and pulled on the man's shoulder to make him face him. Ben straightened his posture and gripped his shield tighter. 

"Homelander, now, is it?" 

"In the flesh," the man took a theatrical bow. 

"Wow, Violet warned me you were a pompous dick, but, man, I underestimated just how much." 

"Ah, my dear Psyche. Always a kind word." Homelander smiled and looked straight at Violet. He smirked; her heart rate was going faster than when he made her kill her brother. It was delicious to see her like that. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Die, cunt," she spat, locking her eyes in his. 

"How 'bout you make me? Oh, wait. I forgot, you can't," he smirked again. He loved this, that feeling that he finally had her in his grasp, that he'd beaten her. 

"I can't make you do anything, you made sure of that, in that lab. You know that very well. But I'll fight you if that's the last thing I do."

Homelander laughed sincerely. 

"Fight? Look at the state you're in. You couldn't even fight The Deep. I expected better from you. I've seen better from you." He walked over to her and tilted his head, tutting like a disapproving teacher. 

She clenched her jaw, staring daggers at him until he lifted a hand and placed it gently behind her neck. She was used to that, she knew it wasn't an actually kind gesture. She knew his next words were going to be vile. She knew his smile was just a mask and that behind it was the face of Evil itself. Homelander didn't know kindness, not without manipulation. It used to make her feel sorry for him. There was no saving that man, he was too far gone. She struggled to push him away, but he anchored his feet, leaving notches from them in the floor. He didn't budge one bit. He pulled her into his arms with a devilish smile and whispered in her ear. 

"It's your lucky day,' she heard his smile against her ear. "Today, you get to pick who lives. See that as a...celebration of our long awaited reunion, if you will."

He pulled back to look at her disgruntled face. Her brows were furrowed, her eyes frantically scanning his own face. She glanced between Soldier Boy and Butcher; he could practically see the cogs turn in her mind. 

"That's right," he smiled again, his teeth pearly, white, and demonic. "You pick, between Daddy William Butcher and Old Soldier Boy here, who lives...and who dies. This time, I'll do the honours. We don't want another Eddie situation here, do we?" 

"Why would I do that?" Violet refused. 

"Because, either you pick one, or they both die before I kill you. And then, well, your whole plan to kill me sort of...well, fails." 

Violet glanced at Butcher and their eyes met. 

She knew, then, what she had to do. 

For years, they tried killing Homelander together but always failed. They had an unprecedented shot with Ben. Butcher winked at her.

She nodded, her jaw tight. 

"Butcher. Butcher dies," she told Homelander, trying to sound as detached as she could. Homelander clapped and laughed while Butcher did his best at pretending to be surprised. 

"Violet, kid, don't do this to me," he faked. 

"On your knees, William," Homelander ordered, putting an authoritative hand on his shoulder and forcing him down. 

Violet returned by Ben's side, gently squeezing his hand so he knew to trust her. She knew what she was doing. She trusted Butcher to know what he was doing. 

Homelander smirked and his eyes began glowing red. 

"Goodbye, Billy Butcher. Give Becca my regards," he taunted him as red laser beams shot from his eyes. 

For a second, Violet thought she had sentenced him to die for real and her heart broke, but suddenly, yellow beams shot from his eyes too, colliding with Homelander's. She heard him murmur in bewilderment and Billy stood up, increasing the intensity of his own lasers. 

"Now, Soldier Boy, now!" Butcher shouted and Ben wrapped his arms around the man who, for the first time in her life, Violet saw struggle. Ben really was stronger than Homelander. 

"Run, Violet!" Billy and Ben both yelled but there was no chance of her not seeing that cunt die, even if that was the last thing she saw. 

She jumped in and waited for Ben's chest to ignite, waited for the warmth of the fatal blow that would rid the world of the scourge that had been Homelander. The man threw her off himself and she crashed on the floor, feeling another one of her ribs crack. She got up groggily and watched as Butcher all but flew across the room into the thankfully cold fireplace. She helped him up and they stood there as Ben and Homelander fought. Blood trickled from his lips and it seemed to surprise him. No one ever made him bleed. 

Violet seized the opportunity and jumped on his back, punching him with all her might; he was so shaken by the sight of his own blood that he didn't notice the orange glow from Soldier Boy's chest aimed straight at him. Butcher shot his lasers in his legs so as not to hurt Violet in the process, and to try and keep him still, too. 

Ben locked eyes with Violet, almost in an attempt to  bid her goodbye. She closed her eyes; that was it, she'd finally be at rest now. She'd see Eddie again.  

There was a flash, and then, it was cold. Not cold like she imagined death would be; cold like grass after it rained. 

She opened her eyes as she felt something brush against her cheek and then, a breeze. The breeze was from Homelander's cape flapping as he flew away up in the sky, too far out of reach. Ben was lying next to her, and so was Butcher. Both of them, alive. 

"That cunt escaped," Billy said with a tiredness in his voice. He, too, had gotten ready to end it all, so it seemed. 

Chapter Text

“I called 911,” Violet told Ben and Billy as they climbed into their car. She looked back on that house and wondered if they’d done any good coming here. “They should be here soon.”

Butcher’s hands gripped the steering wheel tight, it crinkled and made a leather sound when his palm twisted it. His jaw was, as always when they came back from a somewhat ‘successful’ mission, screwed shut and tight, his eyes, far, far away. His mind, deep in thought. Violet wouldn't necessarily call that day successful, but knew he would. They did what they came here to do, and that’s what mattered.

“Good,” Ben nodded sharply. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Violet nodded in turn. “You?”

Ben nodded silently again. All she dreamed of in that moment was a hot bath to dip her sore muscles in and rid herself of all the grime she was covered in. A moment to herself, to process it all. Hell, she’d even take a cold shower with a gardening hose for all she cared. As long as she could clean herself. It was in moments like this where she felt she could understand why Hughie wanted to take Temp V so bad. That guy had been with them through thick and thin, but whatever she endured, she knew she was physically stronger than any of the Boys because of the Compound V in her veins. She had no idea how any of them were still standing today. Truth be told, she had no idea how she was still standing. They’d all been beaten, bruised and so much more over the years. It had to end, one way or another. She looked down at her folded hands in her lap, then at Butcher in the rear-view mirror.

“Butcher, how about you?” She asked, her eyes meeting the man’s through the mirror. His focus returned to the road as quickly as it had left it.

“I’m still alive,” he simply answered.

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“It’ll have to do for now,” he spoke wearily, his eyes blank. “Back to Legend’s place.”

Butcher sighed profoundly and silence filled the vehicle’s interior once again. The man looked rough, like he’d gone through a cycle in the washing machine. He must have been in a bad, bad place and Violet knew better than to talk to him when he had that look on his face. She wondered what he was thinking about though.

Once they reached Legend’s place, the man himself had left. He’d left them a note stuck on his fridge. Butcher walked past Violet and Soldier Boy, quietly, and poured himself a glass of whiskey before sitting down, sighing as his body touched the soft fabric of Legend’s now stained sofa.

The two Supes exchanged a look, and Ben knew that Violet knew how to deal with it, so he shrugged and exited the room. One of the showers turned on seconds later.

The woman gently took the bottle from Butcher’s hand and poured herself a glass too, leaning on the edge of the table in front of him. She waited for his eyes to leave his glass and meet hers, carefully examining his features to try and deduce anything.

“Quit analysing me,” the man chastised her.

“Quit sulking,” she retorted.

He scoffed and downed his glass, standing up to take the bottle from her. After pouring another glass, he didn’t sit back down. Instead, he stood there, in front of the large bay windows looking into the garden, his back to her. Violet could tell he was tense just by looking at his shoulders. Hell, even his shoelaces were tense.

“We almost had him,” he simply said. His voice didn’t betray his thoughts, but the way his fingers gripped his glass did.

“I know I failed today, Billy,” Violet admitted softly before sighing. “I’m so-”

“You did,” he agreed and she looked a little taken aback, even if she expected him to admonish her somehow. He still wouldn’t face her. “That’s not why I’m..””

He stopped before he finished his sentence, slumping his shoulders slightly.

“Say it, Billy,” she spoke softly. “Why you’re feeling so defeated, maybe? Why you’re disappointed you didn’t die with him today?”

Billy turned to look at her, his jaw clenched and his eyes bloodshot. She knew she hit a nerve.

“Don’t,” he warned her, lifting a finger to point at her with the hand he held hid glass with. His voice was hoarse.

Violet stood on her feet and looked straight at him, her arms crossed. She sighed wearily again.

“That’s not what Becca would have wanted, you know that, right?” She didn’t budge when he took a step towards her. His nostrils were flared, his breath short. “You, destroying yourself for the sake of revenge.”

“Don’t talk about her,” he warned her again. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, love.”

“I miss her too, you know. You’re not exclusive to the privilege of missing her.”

“Privilege?” Butcher scoffed. “What kind of privilege is that, huh?”

“To have known her. To know that she wouldn’t have allowed you to destroy the man she loved. To know that…”

“That what?” His eyes were brimming with tears, but he fought them. He wouldn’t cry. He refused.

“That, somehow, and God knows how,” Violet chuckled tentatively. “She’d have found a silver lining in all this.”

Butcher couldn’t help the small smile creeping on his lips. She was right. He hated to admit it, but damn it, she was right. That used to piss him off, when Becca was still alive. The woman always found a way to turn an absolute shit-show into something a little more...bearable. Becca always made things bearable.

And now, Violet made sure he didn’t forget, and that irritated him to no end. When Becca was still alive, the two of them always ganged up on him, and sometimes, even M.M joined them. And that’s when he knew he’d gone too far. Now, M.M didn’t speak to him outside of the job, Becca was dead and Violet was the only reminder of that time. He loved her, yet somehow, resented her for it as well.

“It doesn’t matter,” Butcher tried to brush it off with a flick of his hand, as if it meant nothing, as if it hadn’t moved him, a least a little, to hear someone else talk about his wife. “Homelander’s kid killed her.”

Violet appeared taken aback by the sudden coldness in his words. The smile on her face faded and as replaced with a deep frown.

“Her kid,” she corrected. “The one she entrusted you to keep safe.”

Butcher seemed surprised she knew about that. She wasn’t supposed to, she was gone when that happened. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head.

“What?” Violet kept her eyes in his. “Me and Hughie talk.”

Butcher shook his head.

“I tried, love, I promise.”

“I know,” Violet poured them both a glass and handed his to him. “Doesn’t help that the kid looks just like his cunt of a father.”

Butcher smiled and blew air out of his nose a little.

“We almost had him,” he repeated. “Fucking hell, we almost had him.”

Violet stood closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. She was mad too. She wished things would have ended right then and there. All of that, since the beginning, wouldn’t have been for nothing, then. She thought if they never managed to stop Homelander, and then Vought, then, all the people they left behind would have died for nothing.

Eddie, Becca, Mallory’s grand-kids...The list went on and on.

She balled up her fist, tilting her head back just a little and felt the familiar burn of alcohol in her throat as she finished her glass. She could see him back there, at the twins’ house. How his face had contorted into an expression of horror when he saw his own blood. That vision only sufficed to send chills down Violet’s back. Not chills of terror, no. Chills of joy. She opened her eyes, an almost devilish smile on her lips.

“We’ve got ourselves a silver lining, Billy,” she turned to look her father figure in the eye.

He tilted his chin, silently telling her to go on while he looked through Legend’s stuff to find a cigarette. He lit it as Violet resumed speaking, taking a long, long drag and closing his eyes as the smoke travelled from his lips to the back of his throat. He looked at her expectantly.

“He’s scared, now,” she said victoriously. “Scared there’s someone out there who can take him out.”

Butcher smiled. She sounded like Becca, he loved it and hated every second of it. He hated the thought of her having the same fate. He could almost picture her instead of Becca, dying against that tree and it writhed his stomach. He had to, almost mechanically, remind himself that she was her own person, and not the projection of his memories of his wife. He shook all thoughts away. He was beginning to come down from Temp V, and his brain was starting to feel like mush. Mush being stabbed time and time again, with a rusty knife. Usually, when he was coming down from that green liquid stamped with Vought’s name, faces and people got mixed up. He often called Hughie, Lenny. He guessed now he’d start mixing Becca and Violet together.

“Hopeful suits you,” he spoke blankly, almost disconnected. “Don’t let it get to your head, love.”

And just like that, he left and locked himself in an adjacent bathroom.

Chapter Text

Violet tried her best to ignore the sounds coming from the bathroom Butcher had locked himself in. He sounded like he was struggling, like he wanted to throw up, but nothing came and it was a fight between his brain and his own body.

She couldn’t pretend that their conversation hadn’t shaken her up, at least a little. She couldn’t imagine the pain that man endured having seen his wife die the second he had just gotten her back. There had always been a ‘before Becca’s disappearance’, and an after. Now, there was a before her death, and an after. Nothing good would come of trying to talk about it right now. Nothing good would come from talking, about anything, in that moment.

She turned on the shower in one of Legend’s giant bathrooms, letting the warm water wash off all the gunk incrusted in her skin and hair, letting it wash away all her thoughts until all that remained was the way the soap smelled. It was moments like this that she wished she could compel Butcher. She’d make him stop shooting up that Temp V shit in an instant. She’d make him forget it ever existed.

“Guess he was right to take that vial, then,” she sighed, her hand flat on the cold tile of the shower wall.

She shook her head. The smell of soap apparently wasn’t enough to block out her thoughts.

Every inch of her body throbbed in pain. She couldn’t tell which blood was hers or someone else’s. She had cracked a few ribs, at least two, or three. Her nose had definitely been broken. She touched the tip of it and sucked air between her teeth as she placed both her hands on either sides of it and put it back, a loud crack echoing in the shower.

Then, after inspecting the remainder of her body, she let her mind wander for a minute while she scrubbed herself clean.

They all took their turn filling her mind, some of them shouting louder than the others.

Homelander, she felt rage. Blind rage, insatiable, encompassing her whole body.

M.M, Annie, she felt...guilt. Lingering, cold and draining, all the way to her feet.

Hughie was trickier. Just like Kimiko, she couldn’t pretend to know them as well as the others, but they were there. Tucked away in a corner of her mind that was just her own. She felt a sense of peace. She could almost picture one of the Boys’ old hideouts. Damp and smelly, but...familiar and comforting, like a cousin or a friend you haven’t seen in a while but know, deep down, nothing has changed.

Frenchie was the simplest out of all of the voices in her mind. He was sat there, smoking a cigarette on the windowsill she always pictured him on. One of his old apartments. They were alone, and he whispered sweet nothings in her ears. Promises long forgotten, inside jokes that have run their course. She could almost feel him tuck strands of hair behind her ear while they laid in bed, hidden away from the rest of the world. They hadn’t promised to wait for one another, never. And they wouldn’t have expected it. They were simply there for one another, whether that meant when they needed physical touch, or just someone to talk to. It was an unspoken rule with The Boys; don’t acknowledge it. But they all knew it.

It didn’t matter now. She hadn’t seen Frenchie in years. Things were different now. They were different. The minute Kimiko entered their lives, Violet knew it was over. She saw it in their eyes; they had found each other, and that was all that mattered.

Soon, there was no blood in the water left, and Violet was brought back to reality by someone knocking on the bathroom door. She turned off the shower, wrapped herself in a warm towel, her hair dripping on her back and on the floor. She opened the door, and, there he was, the man she hadn’t gotten round to thinking about yet.

Ben.

He’d found some clothes in one of the bedrooms, and they looked made for him. It was just plain and simple blue jeans and a slightly loose grey shirt, but the way he carried himself made all the difference. His hair was still damp, and he sported some new bruises, just like her.

“Hungry?” He asked, not bothering to hide the fact that he was very much checking her out.

Violet raised an eyebrow, amused.

“I don’t know,” she smirked, leaning in the door frame, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Are you?”

Ben’s eyes left her legs and meet her green eyes. He tried hiding the content smirk on his lips, but failed miserably.

“Hell yes,” he chuckled in a low voice. Then, he scratched his throat. “I meant hungry for food.”

“That, too,” Violet chuckled in turn before she dropped her towel on the floor, stepping over it to get a hold of the fresh set of clothes she had laid out. She was very aware of Ben’s burning gaze on her, but acted as if she had no clue he looked at her that way. She swore she could hear him pant before he bit his lip, eyeing her up and down. If she could read thoughts, he thought, she’d be stunned by the things he wanted to do to her.

He let out a groan he thought had been discreet, but the way Violet looked up at him after sliding a shirt on told him all he needed to know.

“Everything alright?” The woman asked in a low, sultry voice.

“Yeah,” his voice betrayed his thoughts. He scratched his throat, locking his eyes into hers. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” she walked out of the bathroom, casually dragging her hand over his chest as she walked past him and into the kitchen.

Ben grinned, shaking his head. That woman. She made him lose his fucking mind. He followed her into the kitchen. She turned around to face him, her eyes quickly glancing at the broken counter, and then at him with a grin of her own. She looked so proud of herself.

“Sit down,” Ben told her a bit sharply for her taste, and she tilted her head, not moving an inch. He sighed and rolled his eyes. “I meant, take a seat, sweetheart.”

“That’s better,” she teased as she sat down on one of the chairs around the big wooden dining table and watched as he pulled out food from the oven. Freshly cooked food, at that.

“I didn’t make it,” he admitted. “I asked one of the maids to whip up something.”

She nodded, smiling.

“I figured after today…” He looked at her and for a second there, she looked tired, defeated, but took in a deep breath and resumed smiling like a professional. “Maybe we’d need something more consistent than take-away crap.”

“Especially since all the take-away crap around this place is Vought-something and probably has that bastard’s face on it, yeah...Homecooked is better.”

She looked away and spotted Butcher exiting his bathroom, crossing the corridor, his eyes meeting hers for a second before locking himself in his bedroom. He looked terrible. She absent-mindedly bit her lip.

“Didn’t think you were the cooking type, to be honest,” she teased him, her voice lower, quieter than usual. She wanted to fill the silence.

“Oh, and what type am I?” He grinned, downing his drink.

Violet chuckled.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” she spoke softly, almost seductively.

“You drive me mad, woman,” Ben shook his head with that same grin he tried erasing earlier. “Absolutely fucking mad.”

He sat down and pulled Violet’s chair closer to his with one arm so that he could rest it on her back. She seemed surprised, at first, but allowed it, enjoyed it. He gently pushed a plate in front of her. It was warm and its contents smelled divine. Mashed potatoes and carrots, with broccoli and steak.

If she didn’t know him any better, she’d think Ben was trying to impress her.

“This your way of taking me out for a steak dinner?” She grinned and he chortled.

“Maybe,” he nodded, taking a bite.

They stayed silent for a bit, sitting in each other’s presence. Ben thought of what the Twins told him. He didn’t give them much credit, they were scared, so lying was expected. But something told him they hadn’t lied all that much. Noir knew something, and he’d find him. Mindstorm would be a bitch to find, he thought. But if he could just get his hands on them… He gripped his glass tighter and looked over to Violet who seemed far, far away. Her eyes looked nowhere in particular, and she was fidgeting with her fork, pushing a piece of broccoli around her plate. He could see her back there, bloodied and hurt, but still standing. He saw how her behaviour had changed when the man she had been hiding from for years resurfaced in her life; the man she swore she would take down.

“I made a promise,” he spoke after a while, his hand caressing the back of her head. “And I intend to keep it.”

He kissed her temple and she looked at him, the bags under her eyes showing him just how tired she was. She slightly tilted her head, waiting for him to keep talking.

“Homelander,” he added. “I promised I’d help you, and I will.”

Violet smiled, gently squeezing his thigh.

“No matter what,” he promised.

The woman rose to her feet, kissing him passionately. She knew he was a man of his word, whatever the word was. If he swore to kill someone, for whatever reason, he did. If he swore to get his revenge, he did eventually. He might have been an asshole in the past, and maybe even still now, but she knew it; he was true to her.

She held out her hand, and, after he took it, led him out of the kitchen and into her bedroom.

Chapter Text

On the way back to New York, Ben, Butcher and Violet stopped at a motel for the night. They rented a room big enough for the three of them and Butcher turned on the news to fill the silence. For the better part of an hour, the news anchor spoke about nothing out of the ordinary; the regular break-in, show of force from Vought and so on.

Violet slouched on the quilted chair in front of the television, inflating her cheeks and sighing, releasing the air from her mouth. Ben was focused on what they were saying, trying to get reacquainted with the world. That was going to be a long night, they thought.

Ben let out a few disapproving grunts here and there, grumbling the minutes away.

“Wow,” Violet looked at him with an amused grin. “If bitching was an Olympic sport, you’d be a gold medallist.”

Butcher grinned, miraculously managing to contain his laughter.

“Fuck off,” Ben brushed her words aside. “I’m serious, people have gone soft. I-“

“If you say something like ‘in my time’, I swear…” Violet shook her head, her shit-eating grin still very much in place.

She was very aware that she was the only person he allowed to talk to him like that. Butcher was there, though, and although she could take some liberties, she wasn’t going to push her luck.

Butcher watched the two of them interact, observing from afar. He didn’t like this one bit, but Soldier Boy was useful. And as long as that man was useful, there wasn’t anything he could do about it; he just had to suck it up. The second he’d find something better to take down Homelander, though…

Violet stood up and slobbishly dragged herself to the kitchen area. Specifically, the mini bar. She grabbed six mini bottles of whatever-the-fuck-was-closest and closed the fridge with her heel. She couldn’t see the TV from there, only the backs of the men’s heads, but as she approached, she saw Butcher slowly rise from his seat, bringing one hand to his beard.

“Hey, isn’t that-“Ben started, looking up at Butcher, the turning on his seat to look at Violet, who could now see the TV screen.

“Me,” she interrupted him, her heart pounding.

Butcher looked at her, unable to hide his perplexed expression. This was all too reminiscent of their shared past. He almost had flashbacks to almost two years ago. He saw her, standing there in their old hideout, her arms at her side, for once looking like she didn’t have things under control, much like she was standing now, in that dingy motel room.

“News travel fast, huh?” She said, her arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head.

“You call that news? It’s lies,” Ben corrected her. He shouldn’t be surprised by them anymore, but here he was, surprised, shocked, even.

“They couldn’t get me back,” she sighed, her eyes going from Ben to Billy. “So now they’re dragging my name through the mud.”

“Classic Vought,” Billy spat, shaking his head and scratching his beard. “If ya can’t get the girl, make her the villain.” 

Violet sighed angrily, her face was flushed, her jaw tight and her fists balled up. 

"How dare they?" She asked vociferously. "How dare they?" 

She threw the miniature bottles against the nearest wall and they exploded, leaking their contents all over the dirty floor and outdated wallpaper. She was breathing fast, her chest rising and falling at an alarming speed, pacing around the room. If she didn't lower her voice, people would soon hear her. 

"I'll kill them all," she swore, repeating the words over and over until they almost sounded soothing to her. At least the prospect was. 

"Violet, love," Butcher tried beckoning her back to reality. 

Ben blinked, he was fully blindsided. Vought had done it again. They had managed to twist the truth to their advantage yet again. 

"Those motherfuckers," he spat, he couldn't believe it. He sat back in his chair, unable to take his eyes off the screen. 

On there, a picture of a younger Violet with her arm around a guy's shoulder. She was smiling like he had never seen her smile before. She looked really happy. Seeing how similar the pair looked, Ben guessed it was Edward, Violet's brother, she was holding. That picture must have been taken not long before he died. 

Under the picture, a message was displayed while the journalist reported was he was reading on his teleprompter in an almost robotic manner. 

It read : 'BREAKING : Psyche murdered her brother'. 

Thinking things couldn't get worse than that, Violet kept pacing until they announced a guest, a 'specialist' when it came to her, as they put it. She stopped dead in her tracks and grunted to contain her anger, her nostrils flared and expelling air loudly. 

"Homelander, welcome," the journalist said solemnly, with a smile that didn't quite reach their eyes. "Thank you for coming here on such short notice." 

Homelander bowed his head in pretend humility. 

"I'd say it's a pleasure but...the circumstances are much too sad." 

"You must be devastated by this news." 

"I am. I've known and loved Psyche from day one," the Supe paused dramatically. "And to learn that someone I trusted would do something so terrible, I..."

Violet shouted at the TV. 

"It really makes you wonder, you know? What else did she hide?" Homelander continued. "Who did she hurt?"

The journalist went on to ask more questions about what happened, to which Homelander answered eagerly. 

"For years, Stan Edgar told me not to tell the truth," he sighed, looking down and shaking his head. "But I couldn't hold it in any longer. I couldn't lie to the American People any more." 

Almost as if he knew Violet would be watching, the Supe paused again and looked straight at the camera. It almost felt like he was looking through it. Ben shook his head. He knew all too well that when a Supe played the 'American People' card, they were bullshitting on the highest level. Hell, he'd been there, in that asshole's position, more times than he could could count. Pointing the finger at someone he knew was innocent, twisting the truth for the benefit of Vought and his own image. He was surprised they hadn't done it to him yet. He had never minded it, lying for his advantage, not really. Not until now. Not until he saw just how angry Violet was. At that point, she was sheer rage. 

"That woman," Homelander pointed at the picture with his gloved hand. "Is dangerous. I implored her not to kill poor Eddie, but she wouldn't hear any of it. She laughed as the light in his eyes died." 

Again, he paused for dramatic effect, putting his hand over his mouth as he 'recalled' the events. Damn, that man was a good actor. He almost looked really distraught. The words he used were the exact words Violet uttered when she told Stan Edgar what had happened when he found her in the meeting room, her dead brother in her arms. She was positive those words were the ones Edgar had put in her classified file, which meant that Homelander now had access to those. There wouldn't be much on there that he didn't know, except maybe at what age she started her period, but, knowing him, he probably could tell with his powers. Only it meant that he had much more power than he had when she left Vought. 

The woman's face was contorted into an angry grimace, and if Butcher didn't know her, he'd think she was erratic. He had rarely seen her that angry, and he'd wager that, in that moment, she had started subscribing to his 'whatever it takes' ways. She didn't know what stopped her from going there right now. She wished she could watch it all burn to the ground, watch it all crumble. 

Butcher's phone buzzed. 

"Oi, Hughie," he said as he picked up, exiting the room. "Yeah, we saw." 

"It's everywhere," Hughie said hastily. "Is Violet gonna leave again?" 

Butcher quickly peeked inside the room to look at the woman. 

"Nah," he shook his head. "I think this time she'll fight. I think this time they've gone too far for her liking." 

"For anyone's liking, Butcher, this is-"

"Fucking diabolical, I know." 

The two men stayed silent for a second, pondering the situation. Butcher could hear Annie behind Hughie, mumbling. 

"You're still with M.M and Starlight, then?" Butcher asked. 

"Yeah, once I teleported the three of us out of Herogasm, we got to M.M's place and..."

"Alright," Butcher nodded, then, after a short pause, added : "I'd better get back."

"Sure," Hughie agreed. "Tell Violet I'm sorry for her." 

Butcher grunted, nodded and then hung up and walked back into the room quietly, trying to test the waters. 

He found Violet leaning against the table, a lit cigarette between her lips, her hands shaking as she took drag after drag, barely breathing between each drag. Ben and Billy exchanged a look. While the latter had been out, Ben tried soothing Violet, only to be told to piss off. He'd then given her the pack of cigarettes and sat back down, keeping watch on her out of the corner of his eye. 

The three of them stayed in uncomfortable silence, with not even the sound of the TV to distract them; Violet had destroyed it. It was smoking and Butcher stepped on broken pieces of glass as he sat back down, his eyes trained on the woman. 

"That man is going to die if it's the last thing I do," Violet spoke after a while, looking nowhere in particular. She was impatiently tapping her foot and biting the inside of her cheek. 

"Right there with you," Ben nodded sharply, his eyes meeting Billy's, who also nodded in agreement. 

"And when I get inside that tower... Anyone who helped him will meet the same fate," she breathed out of her flared nostrils, finally meeting the two men's eyes. 

Chapter Text

“No, no, hell no,” M.M exclaimed as he looked upon who had just rang the bell to his place.

On the threshold stood Butcher, Violet and Soldier Boy.

“You two motherfuckers,” he pointed at the British members of The Boys. “Can come in. But he stays out.” He tilted his chin towards Soldier Boy.

“M.M, come on,” Butcher took at step but met Marvin’s palm flat against his chest.

“Nuh-huh,” he shook his head and Violet sighed.

She pulled Ben back a little and nodded at Butcher. Seeing that, M.M allowed him inside. Ben sighed too.

“Go to the place we used to hide at,” Violet told him almost in a whisper. She spoke again before he could protest. “I’ll meet you there. In the meantime, try digging up everything you can on Mindstorm, alright?”

Ben grunted. He thought about kissing her in front of her old teammates just to rile her up a little, but decided she probably already had enough on her plate as it was. He sort of wanted to kiss her, though. And not just for the sake of pissing her off.

“Fine,” he grunted. He couldn’t believe he was taking orders from someone, but here he was, willingly doing so. “But if you’re not b-”

“If I’m not back tomorrow, yes,” she interrupted him with a childish grin. Her eyes met his and she smiled ever so slightly as he shook his head, unable to hide his own expression. He was both annoyed and a little frustrated that he wasn’t going to be able to have his way with her. Not in that moment, at least.

“Then you’ll know where to find me,” he added.

“I will. Be safe,” she said softly.

He lifted his hand slowly, debating on where he should place it. He decided her shoulder was the best bet for now, and gently placed it there, giving it a light squeeze as he looked into her eyes.

“You too,” he said, his gaze in hers. Then, he squeezed a little tighter and let her go, leaving her alone on the doorstep.

Violet turned on her heels and was met with a disgruntled M.M with his arms crossed and an expression she had only ever seen him have on his face when dealing with Butcher’s antics.

“Working with him is one thing,” the man started. “But to bring him here? Now that’s another kind of fucked up.”

“I know,” she agreed as he let her in.

After taking off her shoes, because she wouldn’t ever step into Marvin’s place with her shoes on, she turned the corner into the living room and was met with Frenchie’s eyes looking at her. Hughie was there, too. She gulped, waiting expectantly for them to make the slightest gesture indicating how this was going to go.

“You don’t mind bringing Soldier Boy into M.M’s home, but not your shoes, huh?” Frenchie’s voice filled the silence.

Violet examined his features and relaxed a little when she spotted the corner of his mouth twitch into a grin. He walked over to her, flinging his arms around her tightly. He nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. It was her.

After all this time.

“Mademoiselle Violette,” he said quietly as he pulled back, both his hands on her shoulders, framing her, a smile etched on his lips. “Seems like a lifetime.”

The woman smiled slightly, shaking her head in agreement. More than a lifetime, she thought.

“It does,” she agreed. “Good to see you, Serge.”

Frenchie let her go and she walked further inside the room, waving her hand once at Hughie to acknowledge him. The two men sat back down, but she stayed up, her arms crossed, waiting for someone else to say something. M.M was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as well, looking at Butcher who stood next to his with his hands in his coat pockets.

For a second there, it felt like years ago. But that feeling was gone in the blink of an eye. The tension in that room could have ben cut with a butter knife. Seeing that nobody wanted to be the first to speak, Violet leaned off the wall and stood up straight, rolling her shoulders.

“Look,” she began, looking at each of them. “I know you’re all pissed, but if we’re gonna take down Vought...We have to stick together. At least until it’s done.”

M.M sighed and stretched his neck, looking out his window. Hughie looked at Butcher, then at Violet, and then at Frenchie. They had more chances of beating Vought if they worked together rather than separately; Violet was right in that.

“And I know what you’re all thinking about B...About Soldier Boy,” she corrected herself. “But he’s giving us a better shot at this than we could have hoped for.”

“We’ve been over this already,” M.M grunted.

“Let me try this way,” she pleaded. “And if that doesn’t work…” She looked at Butcher.

“It will,” the man affirmed. “He can take Homelander.”

Hughie nodded, firmly believing in Butcher and Violet’s words.

“I’m not going to justify my actions,” Violet locked eyes with Marvin. “But I’ll say this: I trust him.”

Marvin scoffed, shaking his head. Violet didn’t budge.

“I trust him,” she added a little louder. “As much as I trust anyone in this room.”

Her eyes fell on Frenchie, who understood what she meant better than anyone there. He himself had gone through something similar when Kimiko came around. No one trusted her but him. And now, she was one of them.

Violet wasn’t a fool, she knew Ben would, could never be one of them per se, the others wouldn’t allow it. But maybe some sense of trust could be built. And if not trust then, at least confidence in the fact that they wouldn’t kill each other.

“Can I ask…?” Frenchie looked up at her and she silently agreed, signalling for him to do so. “Is he…? Are you…?”

“Am I what? Is he what?”

The three men looked at each other.

“Free, Violet,” M.M interfered. “Are you compelling him? That’s what we wanna know.”

She looked surprised for a second. She blinked slowly and straightened her shoulders again. Somehow, in that situation, she thought the truth wouldn’t go over as well as a lie. If she had been compelling him, they’d have the upper hand on one of Vought’s best kept secrets.

“She’s not,” Butcher informed them. “Little Soldier cunt’s doing this all of his own accord.” He grinned, looking proudly at her. “He looks quite smitten with our Violet.”

She shot him a murderous look.

“Billy,” she warned him. She wasn’t joking, she wouldn’t joke about him.

“That’s not important,” Butcher brushed it off, knowing all too well it hung very heavy in the balance of it all. It was best to pretend it didn’t matter, for now. “’Matters is, he promised he’d help. And Violet can always make him if he decides to turn on us.”

The three men agreed, discussing it among themselves for a second. They all seemed to find that satisfying, and Violet decided to keep the truth to herself. Even she if wanted to, and she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to. It was better this way. It was also better for them to believe she still could.

Finally, after some more convincing, M.M agreed to acknowledge that, as long as he had nothing to do with the guy and Violet could control him, they’d have a shot. Butcher and him exchanged a look. They both, along with Frenchie, knew about Halothane. In a split second, they silently agreed not to tell Violet. Deep down, they still felt as though Soldier Boy was not to be trusted.

A few hours later, they had dropped the matter completely and were gathered around the coffee table, eating take-away Thai food.

“Huh-huh,” M.M exclaimed, pointing his finger at Frenchie, who had an unlit cigarette in one hand and a lighter in the other. “Outside, not in here.”

Frenchie tutted and got up, striding over Hughie, stabilizing himself with the man’s head so as not to fall over.

“Dude!” Hughie grunted.

“Pardon, Petit Hughie,” Frenchie apologized and exited the room, grabbing his jacket and boots on the way to the small balcony in M.M’s kitchen. He slid the glass door open, stepped outside, tutted at how cold the floor was and looked down at his feet. His socks had holes in them and his big toe was peeping out. He leaned on the wall to put his boots on and slid his jacket on as well, leaning his back on the wall once he was done and finally took his cigarette pack out and lit one. He didn’t put the pack back inside his pocket. Instead, he left it out on the stool next to him, with his lighter on top of it.

He smoked silently for a minute, his eyes closed. His head was resting on the wall. He could hear the Boys’ distant voices and his lips twisted into a smile when he heard the familiar crack of a lighter being turned on. His eyes were still closed as he felt smoke blow against his cheek and under his nose.

“Ah, Violette,” he smiled again, opening his eyes just as Violet was bringing a cigarette to her lips. She put his packet back on the stool, along with his lighter.

“It’s like you knew I was coming,” she smiled.

“Weird, isn’t it?” He teased her sarcastically.

She nudged him a little with her elbow and he chuckled, looking down at his shoes, then back at her. She hadn’t changed much, he thought. Her hair was longer, and he noticed she had a new scar on her nose. And one just under her right eye, a tiny little one, in the shape of a crescent.

“These are new,” he pointed at the scars and she chuckled softly.

She gently lifted her finger and traced a few of his new scars as well. He had a lot of them, but she could only see the skin his t-shirt and jacket weren’t covering, his neck and just a little bit under his collarbones. She slid her finger over his collarbones and he hissed a little. Not because he was in pain, but because her hands were so cold. They looked like knife wounds, she thought, and her heart sank.

“A lot’s happened to you, in those two years, huh?” Violet asked, looking up at him, her hand still hovering over his collarbone.

“I could say the same thing for you,” Frenchie retorted, grabbing her hand in his, warming the tips of her fingers up as he rubbed his own against hers before he brought her hand to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on her palm.

She blinked, looking at him and how sweet he was. How sweet he had always been. She wrapped her free arm around him, holding him close to her, breathing him in. She closed her eyes and she knew he had just done the same. He kissed the top of her head, his thumb caressing her back. They stayed like this for a minute or two, smoking as the rain clattered around them. Violet gently squeezed his back and they pulled apart.

“You are still as beautiful as you have always been,” he smiled, letting go of her hand.

She put it in the back pocket of her jeans to keep some warmth. She hadn’t been as smart as him and hadn’t brought a jacket or shoes of her own. She took a drag from her cigarette and looked away.

“Thanks, Frenchie,” she said softly, her eyes not meeting his. “I, uh…”

“Sometimes we don’t need to put words on things,” he spoke as softly as her. “For now, I’m happy to see you, and that is all we need to say.”

“Me too,” she smiled, looking up at him. “I’m happy to see you too.”

Frenchie was right, Violet thought. They didn’t need big words or words at all, for that matter. They understood each other.

Looking out to the city under them, smoking quietly, the two of them were reminded of the numerous times like this one, where they shared a cigarette while the rest of the Boys were eating or sleeping. As broken as they both were, moments like these somehow put their issues on hold, even for just the duration of a cigarette.

“Do you really trust him?” Frenchie asked, it was all he wanted to ask her. He had to make sure Violet knew what she was doing.

“I really do,” she told him, looking him straight in the eyes.

Chapter Text

Violet made her way back to Ben in the small hours of the morning. She found him asleep on the sofa, his legs curled up as it was too small for him. She lowered her hood and put down her keys, walking around the apartment on the tips of her toes.

It felt nice to have been able to spend the day and the better part of the night with The Boys. Things were never going to be easy and flow nicely, but at least they had moments like this one to try and wind down, even for just a little while. Deep in her own thoughts, Violet poured herself a cup of tea while Ben’s light snoring echoed in the small room. She sat with her legs criss-crossed, her back to him, holding her cup close, looking out the window. It was still raining, raindrops blurred her view, but everything always looked better like that, she thought. With the city lights in the night, it all seemed so...quiet from up there.

“You’re back,” Ben’s voice sounded behind her. “And here I thought I was gonna have to leave in the morning.”

Violet jumped a little, startled. Some tea splattered on the floor out of her cup and she wiped it with her sleeve.

“Shame, I thought. I like the place, it’s… quaint,” Ben continued with half smile in the corner of his mouth.

“Quaint?” The corner of Violet’s mouth turned into a smile as well.

“Yeah, quaint,” the man stood up, stretched his legs and walked behind the counter of the open kitchen. He sniffed the teapot and looked at Violet, his eyebrows raised.

“Tea?” He shook his head. “And herbal, at that?”

Violet smiled, a quick chortle resonating in her nose.

“You know what they say, you can take the girl out of England…”

“...But it’s criminal to drink herbal tea, right,” Ben grinned and she laughed.

He took a few sips of water, set his glass down and sat back down on the sofa, looking at her attentively. Her back was to him; her hair was down and slightly damp from the rain which made it frizzy, it gathered in her hood. She was breathing slowly, drinking her tea. He smiled as he watched her and before he could catch himself, she looked at him over her shoulder and he looked away. Silently, she stood up and walked over to him, setting her cup down. She cupped his cheek and stroke it, her eyes in his.

Ben’s brow furrowed, not because she was touching him, but because she smelled different. She didn’t smell like Butcher or the scrawny dude he was always with, and she certainly didn’t smell like herself. Someone else had touched her long enough to leave their scent on her, on his girl, and he didn’t like that at all. He pulled away sharply, inching away from her reach, the spot where her hand was seconds ago now so desperately cold.

She frowned, analysing his features and opened her mouth to speak, but he spoke before her.

“It went well, then, I imagine,” he sounded detached.

“It...did,” Violet looked in his eyes. “They agreed, all of them, to try my way.”

“Good,” he nodded, still not looking at her. “Did you sleep with him?”

Violet’s mouth stayed open while she blinked several times, unable to speak or find words strong enough to convey her surprise.

“Excuse me?” She asked, it was all she could say.

He sighed and finally looked her straight in the eyes.

“Did you sleep with him?” He enunciated every word.

“I heard you the first time,” the woman scoffed. “I just can’t believe the audacity to even ask that.”

“It’s a fair question,” he shrugged.

“Yeah?” Violet stood up and began pacing around the room. The fact that he, on the other hand, stayed sat on the floor, looking at her innocently to provoke her angered her to no end.

“How’s that a fair question, Ben?” She repeated, this time she was the one to enunciate every word.

It was Ben’s turn to scoff, which made Violet’s blood boil.

“You come back smelling like some dude rubbed on you for hours and expect me not to ask?”

“I’m sorry?” She couldn’t believe her ears. “Surely I didn’t hear that right, right?”

“Oh, you heard me alright,” the man finally stood up and walked over to the kitchen counter to lean on it in a way he hoped looked nonchalant.

“Fuck you, Ben,” she spat, turning her back so she wouldn’t have to look at him any more. She heard him laugh to himself and she turned back on her heels to scowl at him.

“So you did fuck him,” he shook his head.

“How on earth did you get that, huh?” She was beginning to speak louder by the second.

“Why aren’t you saying you didn’t, if you really didn’t?”

“Because I don’t owe you any kind of explanation,” she yelled, then she softened. “Not when you’re being such a cunt.”

Ben was now pacing around; he hated how he had allowed her to have such an influence on him. He’d never been on that side of an argument before, never been the one to ask the pitiful question. His eyes met Violet’s. The woman was breathing rapidly, her nostrils slightly flared.

“Fuck’s sake, Ben,” she shook her head. “Are you jealous?”

He quickly looked away from her, focusing on the floor pattern.

He’d never been the jealous one before.

Possessive, yes. Always. He could never stand the thought of someone else touching what was his. But that was different. While he was possessive of Violet, yes, it wasn’t only that. He wanted her to want him, and only him.

It wasn’t like all the others before, he didn’t see her like his plaything to toy with as he pleased and discard once he’d gotten what he wanted.

With Violet, he always wanted more.

Seeing that no answer came from him, she took a step forward.

“You are, aren’t you?” She spoke softly now, not at all like a few minutes before.

If she thought he was going to admit it that easily, she didn’t know him at all, Ben thought. He looked away again. The moonlight reflected on his profile, his lip he was biting absent-mindedly, his green eyes scanned the city skyline as he tried grounding himself. He felt her hand run through his hair and shivers formed on his arms. He faced her, his mouth slightly open, waiting for her next words.

“I didn’t,” she finally told him and his shoulders relaxed immediately.

“Good,” he scratched his throat to appear nonchalant again.

“Good?” She smirked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Don’t make me say it.”

Violet grinned widely.

“Say what?” She teased, fully expecting him to play along.

“That I don’t want you being with anyone but me,” he said seriously.

The look on Violet’s face was priceless; her eyes grew wide as the last word left his lips, and her mouth hung open. She wasn’t expecting him to be upfront about his feelings, not in such a straightforward and vulnerable way manner.

“You don’t?”

“I don’t,” he replied in a voice that felt like honey as he placed his hands on her hips.

“Are you…” Violet grinned and he knew she would tease him. “Asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Ben chuckled, tilting his head back.

“My woman,” he corrected her and something fluttered within her as his fingers dug in her hips a little more. His eyes were trained on her.

“And you’d be what?” Violet asked, trying to ignore the shaking of her knees and keep some remnants of composure.

“Yours,” he smirked.

“My woman?” She laughed.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” He laughed too, then, he leaned in and locked his lips with hers. “I’d be yours, all yours. If you’d have me.”

“I’d have you,” Violet smiled widely, from ear to ear, kissing him again.

Ben smiled and scooped her up, laughing as a surprised yelp escaped her lips. He held her back with one hand nestled against her side, and her legs with one arm under her knees.

“Come on,” he kissed her temple. “I’ll show you you’re mine.”

Chapter Text

The next morning, Violet woke up tangled up with Ben to the sound of rain pouring outside. He was snoring peacefully, holding her flush against him. Violet tried her best to memorise every detail of that moment. It felt peaceful, for once, and she wanted to hold onto that feeling, to hold onto him.

Thoughts of the night they shared came rushing back, stirring warm memories throughout her body. She was sure she had hickeys everywhere, reminders of all the times he had called her his last night. A warm shiver ran over her body and she smiled, breathing him in. She was trying her best to fight the screaming voice of reason in her head, telling her it was a bad idea to let him on, to allow someone to become her weak spot.

She pulled herself away reluctantly, reeling from he coldness from the sudden absence of his body pressed against hers. He grunted in his sleep and she smiled as she put on her sweatshirt.

In the kitchen, she put the kettle on and, while she waited for it to boil, looked through the scattered papers on the round wooden table. It was Ben’s research on Mindstorm.

“We’re pretty close to finding him,” Ben told her, leaning against the door frame with only a pair of grey sweatpants on.

Violet wondered how someone could look that good when they’d woken up just minutes ago.

“You’ve made a lot of headway,”she said, impressed. “Do you wanna tell Butcher?”

Ben hesitated for a minute, then simply nodded before walking into the kitchen and pouring her the cup of tea she had put out.

The sound of the warm water pouring into the cup always relaxed her.

“Earl Grey, right?” Ben asked, looking through her tea collection.

Violet looked up from the research.

“Obviously,” she grinned and he chuckled. “Not so criminal, is it, now?”

Seconds after, he handed her a cup of piping of tea which she happily took and thanked him. He placed a hand on the small of her back and kissed the back of her head, taking a seat to look through his research now that he had had a good night’s sleep. He glanced at the woman next to him and hummed, content.

He wondered how someone could look that good when they’d woken up just minutes ago.

An hour or so later, they heard a knock on their door.

Peeking through the peephole, Violet relaxed when she spotted Hughie, a cup of coffee and a box of doughnuts in hand. She gave Ben a nod signalling they were safe and let her friend in.

“Violet, hi,” Hughie set his things on the kitchen counter before giving Violet a quick hug.

“Hello, mate,” she smiled and wished she’d have put on a proper pair of trousers rather than just a sweatshirt.

Hughie gave Ben an uneasy nod and a smile, waving shyly.

“I brought breakfast,” he said, opening the box. “Your favourites, right?”

Violet nodded and thanked him as she bit into a doughnut, strawberry flavoured, apparently.

“Did you come her just to bring breakfast?” Ben asked coldly, a stark change from the way he had been addressing Violet the whole morning.

“N-no,” Hughie answered, focusing on his friend rather than on him. “We think we’ve found Mindstorm.”

Ben’s stance instantly stiffened. He dropped the piece of paper he was holding onto the table and walked much too close to Hughie for his liking.

“Where?”

“A cabin in Vermont,” he told them.

“Vermont, again?” Violet quipped.

“I know,” Hughie nodded. “Seems like a good hiding spot.”

Ben cleared his throat.

“Now’s not the time to joke,” he reprimanded them and exited the room for a few minutes. He returned with a very heavy looking bag. “Let’s go find the son of a bitch.”

Two days later, in a forest deep in Vermont, Butcher, Hughie and Violet stood aghast around Mindstorm’s lifeless body minutes after Ben, after Soldier Boy, smashed the man’s head with his shield more times than they could count.

He had the man cornered between himself and a tree trunk, when Mindstorm whispered something only for him to hear.

“What? No!” Ben then shouted before lashing out on him.

Hughie, who had promised Minstorm safe passage if he told them the truth, had taken a step forward but both Violet and Butcher stopped him and the three of them watched on, the wet sounds from his skull crushing making them sick to their stomachs. When the former member of Payback was definitely dead, Ben stepped away from the scene, away from them, and punched a tree. The tree split right where his fist had touched it. He radiated anger, and none of the others dared come close, not even Violet.

She had never heard him yell so powerfully, never seen him so angry, but there was something else she couldn’t place, and that worried her; she didn’t want the others to see that it did. They all pretty much had the same looks on their faces. Butcher and Hughie began walking back to the car, making sure they didn’t walk too close to Soldier Boy in case he felt like externalizing his anger further on them, leaving Violet behind to deal with him.

The Supe heard the leaves crunch under her feet before he saw her approach. He looked up to meet her eyes, but it seemed like he was looking through her. She opened her mouth to speak, but he shoved past her, his face contorted into an angry frown. He quickly caught up to the two men, sped past them and waited for them all by the car, leaning on it with a cigarette between his lips.

“Drive me back to New York,” he demanded. “I’ve had enough of this God forsaken place.”

Butcher debated using one of his infamous one-liners to ease the tension, but thought better. Never had a car ride been that deadly silent. Their encounter with Mindstorm had been strenuous for all of them. Hughie had to strike a deal with him to save Butcher, who the Supe had had trapped inside a fatal dream no one else but him could wake him up from, prompting him to promise the Supe he’d get out of this encounter alive. He had to watch Butcher almost die in front of him, powerless, begging Violet to do something, but she couldn’t counter Mindstorm’s trap. The clash between two different types of psychic powers would have turned Billy’s brain into mush, and she refused to risk it. Soldier Boy’s outburst, right when they thought they were out of the woods, only added to the pressure the day had put them under.

Back in New York, Butcher dropped Hughie off and drove Ben and Violet to their hideout. Ben exited the car and, as Violet did the same, gestured for her to stay behind.

“I need some space,” he simply said, not even looking her in the eyes, distant.

Violet opened her mouth to protest, but when she met his eyes, decided against it. He didn’t look at her with anger; he looked lost. She simply nodded, agreeing on giving him the space he said he needed, and turned to get back inside the car. Before he could fully turn, he was already gone.

Chapter Text

“Mind if I stay with you for a little while?” Violet asked, pretending this didn’t bug her at all, leaning on the car door, flashing him a trademark Vought smile.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Billy agreed, he watched her sit back inside; he could very well tell she was faking that pearly white smile, but for the sake of tranquillity, didn’t bring it up. “Wonder what Mindstorm told Soldier Boy to piss him off this much.”

Violet switched her focus from the road to Billy, he looked tired, upset, even. She wondered what sort of dream Mindstorm had locked him in earlier, she imagined it hadn’t been a pleasant one.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He wasn’t exactly gentle with the others either.”

Billy grunted, acknowledging her words, she had a point, he wouldn’t exactly call Soldier Boy the poster child for gentleness.

Back at his place, Butcher helped Violet settle for the night. He handed her a blanket and a pillow which she propped up on his sofa bed, and walked into his kitchen.

“Hungry?” He looked up from the fridge, his head poking from the open door.

“A little.”

“I guess you don’t fancy three day old leftovers?”

“Not really,” she chuckled and shook her head with a tired smile.

“Right,” Butcher tilted his head and gave her an amused smile and a nod. “I’ll go find something. Fish and chips okay?”

Violet’s eyes lit up.

“More than okay, perfect.”

Billy grabbed his keys and some money lying around on his counter and promised he’d be back soon. Violet was alone, truly alone, for the first time in a very long time, it seemed. She grabbed a beer and sat back down on the sofa, tilting her head back, breathing in and out in complete silence, trying to make sense of that day. All she wanted to do was talk to Ben, ask him what had happened, but she knew she’d be faced with a wall if she tried.

A phone buzzed, once, twice. Violet didn’t think much of it until it rang for the fifth time in a row. She began looking for a phone and soon found Billy’s on the coffee table.

It was Hughie. Her mind raced, they had been together just an hour ago, that had to be important. Billy wouldn’t mind her answering his phone, especially if it was Hughie, she thought. If he called a sixth time, she’d pick up.

Two seconds later, Hughie’s name popped up on the screen and Violet put the phone to her ear.

“Butcher?” Hughie sounded worried.

“It’s Violet, Billy’s out. Food run,” she informed him. “Are you okay?”

He was panting.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m...fine,” he obviously lied.

“Don’t lie to me, Hugh.”

Hughie sighed on the other end of the line and she pictured him dragging a nervous hand over his face.

“You won’t like what I have to say.”

She swallowed nervously.

“Say it anyway,” she retorted. “If it’s ‘six calls in a minute’ worthy, then it sounds like something I should know, doesn’t it?”

“Ah,” Hughie sighed again. “You’re right.”

“Spill, Campbell.”

Hughie stretched his shoulders, getting himself ready for the bomb he was about to drop on her.

“Annie did some digging on Temp V,” he began and immediately, Violet didn’t like where the conversation was going. “She found some files in the labs at the Tower.”

“And?”

“It’s...uh, well,” he hesitated for a second. “It’s safe for one or two uses. But it’s proven lethal to test subjects who took between three to five doses.”

Violet’s heart sank all the way to her feet.

“How many of you taken, Hughie?”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured her.

“Don’t lie, I need numbers, Hugh.”

“I’m not lying,” he promised. “I’ve only used it twice and Annie made me swear I’ll never touch it again.”

“Good,” she let out a relieved sigh.

“I don’t want my brain to turn into...whatever the test subjects’ brains turned into.”

“Is it...that bad?”

“Yeah, huh...It basically turns your brain into Swiss cheese. Swiss cheese full of tumours.”

“Oh,” she felt like someone had just punched her throat, she couldn’t breathe. “How many…?”

“I don’t know for sure,” he admitted. “But he has to stop or he’s gonna die.”

Almost as if on cue, Billy walked back into his flat, victoriously lifting the bags over his head with an honest smile. It dropped when he saw the look on her face. Her chest was heaving, and in her eyes, he read a mixture of worry and anger.

“Will you tell him?” Hughie asked and Violet heard Annie behind him say something along the same lines.

“Promise,” she answered before gesturing to hang up, her eyes in Butcher’s.

The man walked further into his apartment sheepishly, very aware that his next words would determine how the conversation was going to go. He set down the bags of food and took off his coat.

“Did you know?” Violet asked between gritted teeth.

“Did I know what?”

“Don’t play coy, William,” she warned him, her finger pointed in his direction. “Did you know about Temp V, huh? That it was slowly killing you? Killing Hughie?”

The man’s smirk disappeared from his face. The phone in Violet’s hand buzzed again, but this time, it was Hughie texting her the pictures Annie had taken in the lab, for proof, to show Butcher. She simply opened the texts and handed the phone to the man in front of her.

“Here,” her voice trembled.

She paced around the room for so long that she thought she would leave a trail behind her if she kept going. He put his phone down.

“What if I did?”

Violet’s eyes darted towards his. How she wanted to beat the living hell out of him.

“Oh, I hope it’s only a question, Billy, and not a confession,” she threatened. “Tell me you didn’t know.”

“Queen Maeve said there might be a few...side effects,” he admitted.

“Side effects?” Violet yelled.

“Listen to me, love.”

Violet shook her head and scoffed.

“She wasn’t sure,” he continued. “She said not to overdo it-”

“So of course, you overdid it.”

“I didn’t know it was a death sentence,” he looked into Violet’s eyes and she thought he seemed sincere enough, on that part, at least. “But you know what?”

“Don’t, Billy,” she warned him not to finish that sentence.

“Even if I knew, I’d do it again.”

Violet sighed loudly, throwing a pillow at him.

“Even to Hughie?” She asked, knowing his answer would determine the future of their relationship. “Even to...your little brother?”

Butcher’s eyes were threatening, but she wasn’t scared of him. She hadn’t been scared of Butcher in a very, very long time. It was time they aired some things out.

“Don’t talk about Lenny, Violet, I warn ya’.”

“That’s all you kept talking about under Mindstorm’s spell,” she insisted. “His name, on repeat.”

“Leave it.”

“Would you? Do it again, if it meant condemning Hughie? The guy who convinced Mindstorm to free you from that dream? The guy who, whatever shit you threw at him, was always there, Billy. Always.”

“I don’t know, Violet. Would you still team up with Soldier Boy, knowing he killed M.M’s family? Knowing he’s no better than Homelander? Right, I forgot, you already did that. It was necessary.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Violet shook her head. “You should have told Hughie the minute you found out, instead of dragging him to Hell with you.”

“I was going to,” he added, locking eyes with her. “ I was gonna do what’s right, love, I promise.”

Violet bit her lips, refraining from bringing up Ryan, Becca’s son, and how he hadn’t kept his promise to him either. They looked at each other, their pent up frustrations against one another on the verge of coming out in the open. The woman shook her head, looking defeated. She pulled a cigarette out and walked out onto the balcony, leaving him with his own guilt.

He joined her outside half an hour later, smelling like cheap booze.

“Care to spare one?” He asked and she handed him a cigarette without looking at him. “Violet, love, look-”

“Hughie’s probably gonna ask you to stop using that shit,” she interrupted him. “He’s better at these things than me, how to get through to you.”

“I was going to stop giving him Temp V, Violet.”

“If that’s what you need to tell yourself, fine,” she finally looked at him. She was disappointed. “But you and I both know the truth.”

The man sighed; she knew him too well.

“And I’m not giving up on Ben,” she added. “Do with that what you may.”

Butcher nodded silently.

“That’s settled then,” he said simply. “You have your self-destructive tendencies, I have mine. Bob’s your uncle.”

They stayed silent for a little while, until Violet turned to completely face him, misty eyed and her lip twitching. He knew that face. He knew she’d say something which would turn and turn in his brain for days, she’d make her feel guilty by simply being much kinder to him than he deserved. She’d wreck him.

“I can’t have you die on me, Billy,” she spoke from the heart. “Not you.”

“I’ll be alright, love. Promise,” he replied, pulling her into a hug with one arm.

Those words tugged at Violet’s heartstrings. Billy Butcher never promised anything unless he knew he couldn’t uphold that promise on his own, without a safeguard. She squeezed him tighter, her brow furrowing.

“Don’t just promise,” she spoke against his chest. “Do it. Give up Temp V and protect Hughie. Fight.”

He didn’t answer her and she feared he was too far gone. Too far for her to help him.