#(she probably said find me under layers of shit but I like five medium layers of shit more)

[fourteenpigs]

I figured out how to put it on my device guys

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[seeds-and-sins]

F**kin’ Diabolical (Chapter 5)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought’s operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn’t have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Chapter Summary; Carly gets a visitor at the hospital. Meanwhile, Homelander throws her right into the fire without warning.

 Just his luck, after eight years he decides to ask a girl out and then this shit happens. As soon as he saw her name plastered on newspaper headlines and shot out all over the banners on CBS, Fox, CNN, MSNBC, and the like, he felt his heart plummet. He wasn't going to get all out of shape over some girl, they lived across from each other, had nice conversations, and that was that. But he also wasn't going to leave her sitting all alone on what would most likely be her death bed. When he entered that hospital, shitty flowers in one hand, he didn't know what to expect. The survivor of such a horrible fire, she most likely wouldn't be as beautiful as the last time he saw her. He was prepared for something of the worst, but not the worst that's for sure. In his mind he imagined some gruesome burns, some really heavy duty shit, the girl being on her last leg, literally. The thought repulsed him, but he cared about her enough to actively go out of his way to go visit her. If it would make her final moments more comfortable, if she was even conscious, at least he would know that he didn't have to regret not going to see her.

   He approached the front desk of the hospital, catching the sight of a few of Carly's fans as they sat in the waiting room, their signs reading phrases akin to, 'Fuck Vought', 'This is Fucking Diabolical', and 'Supes Must Die'. He cleared his throat towards the older nurse, typing away at the computer, a blank stare on her expression. She tilted her head up slightly with a sigh, shoulders hunched down. 

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Here to see Carly Danvers. Check your list." She crossed her arms over her lap and shook her head.

"You'll have to wait with the others, Sir." He glared over in the direction of the fans, he most definitely wasn't going to wait. He wasn't going to be deterred because of some old lady's attitude. 

"Actually, I am not a fan..." Her eyebrows furrowed and she cocked her head at him. He forced a smirk towards her, although it came across quite awkwardly. "I am her fiancé." 

"Oh, that so, Sir." She leaned into the screen typing out a few things. "What's the birthday then?" She deadpanned. Billy wanted to slap himself, he'd been living across the girl for five years and he couldn't remember her birthday?! Maybe he could look the birthday up on his phone, that might be too suspicious.

"August." He randomly stated, although he knew it was probably wrong. The woman rolled her eyes and then gestured over to the swarm of people.

"Please go sit, sir." He grunted his disapproval, slapping the flowers down on the desk and leaning forward, down to her, in some effort to keep things on the down low.

"Now listen you silly twat, I know Danvers better than half the blokes in this room pulled together. I practically know her better than you know the shine off your fat ass." The woman stuck a hand to her chest, appalled, eyes widened, on the verge of calling security it seem. He raised the flowers up, a snarl on his lips. "You see these flowers? I bought them for her. I figured she'd be needin' a nice gesture. What have you cunts been doing for her?" The woman huffed in shock, then sighed, shaking her head. 

"Sir, if you do not leave now, I will call security." She muttered out in sharp breathes, Butcher turned to side lean against the desk, shaking his head. 

"Can't you throw me a bone, or somethin'? How can I see her?" Billy was feeling desperate, mainly because he didn't want to walk away, only to find out she's dead and he never had the chance to tell her goodbye. As much as he tried to hide it, he did know Carly for so long, she was part of his life every day. He couldn't lose another woman in his life without saying goodbye. The woman noticed the drop in his tone, guilt riddled her features and she stood, hovering over the desk to get closer.

"Look, even if I did let you in..." She whispered, "She's unavailable at the moment."

"What? She in surgery? Dead? What the bloody hell is it?"

"I can't say..." She hissed out between clenched teeth, nervously glancing around. "Homelander was in here earlier, that's all I know." Butcher had flash backs, or what felt like them at least, like some fucked up PTSD showdown. All he could see was his beloved Becky talking to that piece of shit Supe. She got too close and now she's gone. His fist clenched around the flower stems and his jaw tightened.

"Tell me. Where is she?" He ground out, the woman reeled away, a fearful glimmer in her eyes. She sat down and continued typing away on her computer, then cocked her head up at him. She cupped a hand around her lips and urged for him to get closer with the other.

"Room 116. Second Floor." The words faded out into...

"Carly?! What the fuck are you doin'?! You are doing it all wrong!" 

"You told me to close my eyes, and-"

"Well, its annoying! You are just standing there! Fucking do something!" Homelander yelled, pacing around her, fingers slotted together behind his back, his crimson cape flowing out behind him as he stepped. His voice echoed out into the barren concrete warehouse that he brought her to immediately following their talk with Stillwell. He said he used it when he was a teenager, and then cracked an inside joke about using ‘moving targets’ at the time. The way he said it sent chills through her, she didn’t want to know what ‘moving targets’ he was talking about, so she didn’t respond. The only thing she was relieved to find was that there wasn’t anybody around. It was just Homelander and her, which made her significantly less anxious. If she did lose herself at any point in time, no one would get hurt.

"What is supposed to happen, even? What do you even do, huh? This is stupid! Can't we just take a break, or something?"

"Can't we just take a break, or something?" He mocked in a higher pitched voice, then shoved harshly at her shoulder and she stumbled over, catching her feet under her. "You are a hero, now! You don't have time to rest!" He came up behind her and helped her steady herself, hands now on her shoulders. "Now focus for-" She elbowed him, and boy, did it feel good to know that she could make the Homelander hurt. He grunted, holding his stomach and he took a few steps back. She spun on her heel and faced him, he recovered quickly, standing and they both glared at each other. 

"I just woke up three hours ago and was shoved into this shit storm without any time to adjust!" His fist shot out, hitting her chest and she flew back several feet from the force. She clutched at her sternum, as she propped herself up on her elbows to stare at him. She used her flight to carry herself back to her feet, jaw clicking as she ground her teeth together. He held a finger up at her, a warning, her fists clenched at their sides. 

"Now Carly, you are-" She let out a scream as she stepped one foot forward and red propelled from her eyes in Homelander's direction. He dodged quickly and swooped around in flight, she rolled forward skillfully as he flew past. Her eyes muted back from red to blue, and when she faced him he was arm's length from her. "You see? That's wasn't so hard-"

"Argh!" She threw a fist, which he blocked with a sturdy forearm, then a kick that he ducked under. Soon stepping back, dodging her, as her fists went flying at him, full speed. "Suck! My! Dick!" She wasn't able to land a single punch, he grabbed her fist in mid stroke and yanked her forward as he stepped back, she fell to her knees.

"Someone has quite the temper." He jested, and she swept her feet out under him. He fell backward, eyes wide in shock, where she hopped onto his waist and hit a fist down towards him. He tilted his head over, her fingers hitting the concrete brick, penetrating it and leaving a dent in the grey. His hands grabbed her waist and he flew up to stand, easily spinning and throwing her a great distance into a nearby concrete wall in the facility. Her body left a giant hole in its wake, a few chunks of concrete coming down on top of her, and like dust, she brushed them away as she stood. "Carly, you don't stand a chance. Why don't we just sit down and talk-" She picked up a medium sized bulk of concrete stone. "Carly!" She hurled it towards him with a grunt, he held his forearms up, the stone turning into rubble as it cascaded down over him. Concrete dust layered onto his dirty blonde hair, he grimaced and dusted himself off. "You're really pissing me off." Her chest was heaving in rage, she stared down at her palms, clutching her fingers tightly she gazed up at him. "You done with your little tantrum?" He said with a tight lipped sneer, crossing his arms.

"No." And she hopped up, in an attempt to try and fly towards him, she still hadn't mastered flight quite yet, only the simple forms of it. She hovered off the ground to him for a moment before sliding back into the concrete, cutting through it like butter, her body leaving a trail of rubble in its wake. She came to a stop at his feet, and he sighed as he watched her, unimpressed. He crouched down to her as she lifted her torso up, about to make some comment on how childish she was being, and then he saw the tears.

    He willed himself not to care, she was no different than everybody else, she always had been. The soft tears that trickled down her face, the edges of her eyes still red hot from the heat vision. She sniffled, raising a hand up to catch some of the wetness on her cheek with her wrist. He awkwardly glanced around, anywhere but her, what was he supposed to do?

"Alright, come on, that's enough." She then stared up at him, a wet, red, and broken stare that made him cock his head with some form of pity that didn't even know he could muster. He stood, his glove squeaked with a clench as he turned his back to her, hands now settling on his hips. "This is what you are now."

"The doctor knew..." She scratched out, and his eyes narrowed in confusion as he tilted back around to consider her. 

"What are you talking about?" He nearly spat out.

"He told me he perfected the compound. He chose me." Homelander snorted dismissively, blinking and dropping his stare down.

"He could have done that to anyone."

"But he did it to me!" She jumped up to her feet, and her eyes turned a bright red. She felt all of herself clench in rage, she could feel the power in her, surging through her. It only made her more angry, she didn't want any of it. "He fucking took everything from me! I AM NOT CARLY ANYMORE!" She screamed, eyes only getting brighter as the heat within them intensified. She then felt hands grip at her shoulders, gently caressing down, when she rose her neon red glare, it was Homelander. 

"You aren't alone, Carly. You aren't alone." Her expression creased into a sob and her eyes closed, forehead resting down onto Homelander's chest.

"You should just kill me." Her voice cracked out, it was almost a plea for help, like she'd rather die than live through this pain.

"Then what fun would you be?" He brushed his gloves fingers through her hair, palm swerving down to cup under her cheek and force her to meet his gaze. "I certainly can't have fun with a dead Carly, can I?" Her eyes dimmed down from a light red into a crystal blue, yet again. The tension in her subsiding and she placed her hands on Homelander's sides, tenderly grazing the detailed ridges and bumps on the suit. 

"I'm sorry for what Vought did to you." If he expected her to say anything, it certainly wasn't that. He closed his eyes, grinding his teeth together, trying not to surface those horrid images in his head. He shook his head and then opened his eyes again. 

"Well, I am not." He smiled, it was a forced smile, and then he shrugged at her. "You shouldn't be either. We are better now, better than they will ever know." 

"Even so, its a harsh and cold feeling, the loss of one's mortality. No one should have control over that." He brushed aside a tear sliding down her cheek, she couldn't help but feel like he’d done that way too many times today.

"And they don't, don't you realize Carly?" He chuckled darkly, his smile turning upward further into a toothy grin. "We can do whatever the fuck we want." And not shortly after, it was as if nothing had happened, his warmth pulled from her as he stepped back. He held his hands up and gestured around the training room.

"Someone's going to have to clean all this shit up, Danvers, look what you've done?"

"Homelander?" He closed his eyes, hoping she wouldn't bring up what had just been discussed. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to control the unearthed frustration and rage that came with those thoughts. She held her arms around her and stepped over the mess she had made, to close the distance between them. 

"What is it now?"

"I would like to go home."

"Well, that's-"

"My home." He crossed his arms, and then shot his eyes around the destroyed warehouse in one last time out of annoyance before nodding his to her. 

"It'll be good practice for you. We'll fly there." And the grin that he had on his face made her wish she didn't say anything in the first place.