Work Text:
Dinner with Family
Ryan was still with Also Ashley playing Minecraft when Homelander returned from Stan’s office. Normally he would have texted her and gone to pick up his son, but the lure of the security footage from Becca’s house called to him and he decided to put off tonight’s dinner for a bit.
True to her word, Anika had attached the relevant footage of Ashley’s visit to an e-mail and he clicked on the attachment. The video started with Becca, sitting on the couch in her living room with her arms wrapped around her knees, staring at nothing. That bothered him. He knew she’d be upset when he took Ryan, but she seemed devastated to be alone. Maybe he could have been gentler about it, somehow? Before he could spend too much time thinking about it, she heard something that he didn’t and leaped to her feet, flying across the room to open the door. It was Ashley, her hand lifted to knock, and Becca snarled, “Who the hell are you?” Homelander raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t a side of his son’s mother that he had ever seen.
Ashley rolled with it. “Ryan’s alive.” That offended him some—did either of them actually think he’d hurt Ryan in any way, his own son? Then she introduced herself, which Becca didn’t give the faintest shit about. When she asked about Madelyn, Ashley told her that Butcher had murdered her. It was the only story she could give; she’d been in Barcelona when Madelyn was killed and knew nothing but the official story. Maybe Stan Edgar didn’t even know what he’d done since her home hadn’t had cameras, although he certainly must suspect, and the only other person who knew what had really happened was William Butcher, who clearly wouldn’t be believed as he was the killer in the world’s eyes.
“Bullshit.” That irritated Homelander; Becca had never used vulgarities around him. “Billy wouldn’t do that.” Well, their mileage varied; Homelander hadn’t been the one to strap the explosives on Madelyn, after all, and it still remained unclear whether he would have killed her if Homelander hadn’t beaten him to the punch. Did Becca seem a little uncertain here? Interesting.
Ashley managed to get in the door, but her pleasantries were instantly rejected. “What’s happened to Ryan?”
“Nothing, really.” Was she trying to get Becca calmed down? Probably a futile tactic, but Homelander kept watching. “He’s staying in one of the spare bedrooms in the penthouse. Homelander’s introduced him to Stormfront, is trying to get him used to her as the prospective stepmother, if I’m any judge.”
That made him think. If Ashley believed—correctly—that he was interested in making his relationship with Stormfront permanent, having a royal supe wedding, as it were, that might be another motivation for her to run, and it seemed she did. Mirrorlander’s motivations here bothered him as well. He’d tried to protect the secret of his affair with Ashley from Stormfront, but what would he do if Homelander proposed to her, married her? He seemed attached to Ashley, and he had the feeling that his other self would not give her up in the face of marriage. And Stormfront would have to know about Mirrorlander then, would know about Ashley, and he didn’t believe there was any way she would allow her husband to sleep with another woman, even if her husband had a second personality that didn’t consider himself married to her. Complicated was too mild a word for it. And what if Mirrorlander decided he wanted to marry Ashley? While Homelander was married to Stormfront? It seemed ridiculous on its face, but then so had the idea that his other personality would ever sleep with Ashley.
Then she threw him for a loop. “He’s worried that you’re mad at him because he yelled at you when they showed him the compound walls.”
What? Ryan hadn’t said anything to him about that. Homelander had thought that would have finished his relationship with Becca, the fact that she had lied so comprehensively to him. Mirrorlander had killed Madelyn—well, the situations didn’t compare. Becca hadn’t had the same sort of twisted relationship with him that Homelander had had with Madelyn. If he was worried about her feelings, he must still love her. Maybe it was harder to eradicate love than he thought it would be.
Becca told her, “I would never—“, which he wasn’t sure he agreed with. She’d been much harsher toward Ashley than he’d ever seen her behave. How much of what she’d shown him during their affair had been calculated, designed to please him after she’d gotten into his bed? Had she been playing him for a sucker? And, worse, had he been one?
Ashley cut her off. “I know, but he’s a child and doesn’t understand.” An infinitesimal hesitation, then, “He’s also not sure if he’ll be allowed to come back to you, although he didn’t tell me that. From what I’ve seen, it looks like Homelander wants a child for Stormfront since supes can’t have children with each other and apparently she wants a baby.”
He shifted uncomfortably. Whether Stormfront actually wanted another child he didn’t know, hadn’t asked her at the time when she’d told him about Chloe, but she had been melancholy at the memory and he hadn’t liked that. And Ryan needed a mother who wasn’t a complete bitch to his father half the time.
Becca’s face contorted in anger. “So he steals mine? Ratfucker. What do you plan on doing about this?”
A little glow of red sparkled in his eyes, but he wasn’t aware. Oh, she’d been sweet as sugar when she was trying to coax that baby out of him, but as soon as his usefulness was at an end she cut contact? Homelander didn’t choose to remember that he was the one who’d told Madelyn to fire her. But obviously she’d lied to him about Becca being pregnant, so had she anticipated he’d react that way to a failure and factored it into her plans? What would she have done if he’d insisted on keeping Becca, despite the “failure” of Project Athena? Well, it didn’t matter now; Madelyn was dead and he had his son.
Ashley took a moment to respond. It interested him that, throughout this encounter, she’d been cool and poised, calm and confident. He never saw her that way. Had Mirrorlander seen her like that? “There’s…not much I can do. Mr. Edgar’s already made the determination that he doesn’t intend to antagonize Homelander in this matter by taking Ryan away.”
“As if you could,” he said to the screen.
“Although Homelander set up the situation to alienate Ryan from you, it doesn’t seem to have worked. Based on that, if I talk to Mr. Edgar, we might be able to set up an arrangement where Ryan is with you some of the time and with Homelander some of the time, like a custody arrangement.” It still angered him that Ryan retained the attachment to Becca, but he could work on that later. The idea of a custody arrangement added fuel to that anger, but again he could deal with it later.
That pushed Becca right over the edge. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Seemed like she did as much swearing as her crazy husband, when Homelander wasn’t around. “I do not want my son having anything to do with his father. The whole reason I came here in the first place was that Madelyn said she could protect me, and now none of you want to lift a finger to help me! What good are any of you? You’re all worthless to me!”
Man, had Madelyn ever played her. Or maybe she’d believed what she wanted to believe and wound up playing herself. Ashley’s expression tightened as she replied mildly, “Please remember that you wouldn’t have any idea whether your son is alive or dead right now if I hadn’t come here. I don’t expect any thanks for it, but I would prefer not to be called worthless to my face.”
He nodded with satisfaction. “You tell her, Ashley. Don’t let her talk to you like that.” When it wasn’t him cutting her down, she could stand up for herself very well. There was a little more between them with Ashley telling her about Jonah’s death at the Congressional hearing and the truth about Compound V. He didn’t know how to feel about Ryan’s not having been injected with Compound V. But he still had powers, so if Vought had foregone the drug, powers must be heritable. That caught his mind enough that he almost missed Ashley telling Becca that she was pregnant with a supe’s child, but he didn’t miss Becca’s reaction.
She looked Ashley up and down, obviously finding her lacking. “Homelander gets around, doesn’t he?” The mocking contempt in her face and voice was unmistakable.
Ashley gave her a smile with just as much contempt in it. “Actually, Shockwave is the father. He died at the Congressional hearing, and I got pregnant from being with him the night before. Homelander is not…well, that’s not something I would ever consider exploring. Of course, you didn’t know the real him the way I do.”
“You little liar!” It actually got a laugh out of him. But it did seem that she hadn’t known the real him any more than Becca had. Then his son’s mother dropped her bomb.
“He raped me!”
It knocked the breath out of him, and all he could do was stare at the screen. What? What had he just heard? Had she actually just told Ashley that he’d raped her? After she’d played him—at least she thought she had—and fucked him multiple times to get Ryan and hide his son from him, she decided to cast herself as the innocent victim and claim rape? Why the hell would she do that? Had she told Ryan that? If so, did his son believe her? Probably she hadn’t; if he was any judge, she wouldn’t have wanted to explain the concept of rape to him. Maybe she didn’t think Ashley knew about Project Athena. That made him wonder if she did. She’d known about the affair with Becca and, presumably, learned at some point that she and Ryan were living in Compound #9, but had she gone into the files and learned about Madelyn’s pet project and put everything together? And…did Ashley believe her? He guessed she might think that they’d had a consensual affair, but maybe Becca tried to break things off and he could possibly have forced her then. Homelander didn’t examine why the idea that Ashley might believe him a rapist bothered him. Why would Becca have said that?
Ashley made a gesture that could be interpreted as a nod but didn’t engage with her statement, only went on to ask questions about Ryan’s powers. Becca was furious but answered her questions. He didn’t know why, any more than he knew why she hadn’t wanted Ryan to have powers. Wasn’t that the whole idea behind Project Athena? A little shiver went through him when Becca mentioned negative reinforcement but tried to reassure himself that she hadn’t had the ability to inflict that in the way the scientists who raised him had.
When Ashley stood up to leave, Becca burst out with, “What about me? Are you going to let me out of here so I can see my son?”
It surprised him when Ashley laughed at her. She didn’t laugh much in his presence. “Have you forgotten you’re not a prisoner here? Ma’am, you can leave whenever you want. I can call our facilities manager and tell him this compound is no longer in use, and I can even call a U-Haul truck for you to haul out whatever here belongs to you. You are the one who came to Madelyn with hat in hand, begging, and she let you stay here as long as you wanted, rent-free. Nobody’s going to stop you if you want to leave.”
Becca looked like Ashley had hit her with a two-by-four. “What?”
“You have never been a prisoner here. Get in your car and leave. It’s all the same to me. Call your husband—maybe you going home will get him off Vought’s back.” Becca suddenly looked terrified and he figured it out. Rape—a convenient excuse for the baby that William was never supposed to know she’d had when he found out she had one. Any ramifications that the accusation would have on Homelander, well, that didn’t seem to make a bit of difference to her. After all, he’d just been her sperm donor. Ashley said something that he didn’t register before the door closed behind her and she was gone, again.
Becca stood for some moments, staring at the inside of the door, and he didn’t know whether what she did next was triggered by the sound of Ashley starting her car and driving away, but at the end of that immobile time she snapped. The shriek she let out was bone-chilling, and she flew at the chair Ashley had sat in, clawing it with her nails until that didn’t satisfy anymore. Then she ran into the kitchen, returned with a knife, and hacked the cushions of the chair to shreds, emitting wordless sounds of fury. He sat back in his own chair, shocked, as she took the knife to the sofa and disemboweled it, fabric and stuffing flying everywhere. The curtains were next to be slashed into rags, then she fell to her knees, dropping the knife, and clawing at the carpet with little success until she collapsed, still making her sounds of rage, and then the video cut off. He supposed he was lucky that the security people hadn’t cut the footage off as soon as Ashley left; if they had, he wouldn’t have any idea that Becca was capable of such destructive rage. Homelander found that his heart was beating more rapidly than usual. Adrenalin coursed through his blood.
“Well, sport, you thought she had a temper. Guess you were right.” Mirrorlander was visible in the screen of the laptop, and he could almost believe his other personality was just a shadow, a reflection in the glass. “Ashley doesn’t have a temper like that.”
“None she showed you, anyway.” Homelander knew Ashley got so frightened sometimes that she let it morph into anger and turned that anger on whichever of her subordinates was in the vicinity. Whatever—he didn’t care as long as it didn’t affect him. Interesting that Mirrorlander didn’t know that about her.
“Where are you with finding her?”
“Anika’s working on something but wants to wait until she has supporting evidence before briefing me. We think she’s pretending to be a widow.” Something shifted in Mirrorlander’s face but it was gone too quickly for him to read. “Anika’s still going through the passenger records for the major airports to find the identity she used to leave the country. And we’ve had the hotel room she spent the night in before she left processed by technicians, just in case she left any proof of herself there.”
“There probably won’t be anything there. It’s bound to have been cleaned a dozen times since then.” But his voice wasn’t angry.
“I know, but we don’t want to assume anything. She might have been careless, might have forgotten about something.”
“Ashley is very detail-oriented. I doubt she made any slips.”
Homelander let a little annoyance creep into his words. “She’s still human. They make mistakes.”
“True.”
Now was as good a time as any, so Homelander asked, “What are your plans when you get her back?”
One side of Mirrorlander’s mouth quirked up in a grin. “Well, after she has the baby and the doctor clears her for it, I plan to fuck her.”
That was obvious, but he persisted. “You know I intend to ask Stormfront to marry me. What does that do to your plans, since you don’t want her raising the baby?”
He shrugged. “At the moment, I don’t know. But nothing’s ever set in stone.“ Whether he meant about Homelander marrying Stormfront or her raising the baby wasn’t clear. “You don’t think your geriatric Nazi can deal with me?”
Homelander sighed. “I don’t know. It’s…kind of a big thing. I don’t think she would agree to let you keep Ashley.”
“Bold of you to assume she would get the slightest say in my business. She may have turned you into a lapdog but all bets are off when it comes to me. Are you planning on telling her before you pop the question?”
“About Ashley?”
“And me. Not quite fair of you to turn the key in the wedlock without full disclosure, is it? Or are you afraid she won’t say yes if she knows it’s a package deal?” He squirmed, and Mirrorlander’s grin got feral. “Oh, that’s it, huh? I’m a dealbreaker as far as she’s concerned. Oh, that is interesting, very interesting indeed.”
“Ashley doesn’t know about you either. What makes you think she’ll handle it any better than Stormfront?”
“Because she and I will have a child to bind us together. Whether she tolerates you sleeping with your Nazi hag doesn’t matter. She is the mother of my son. I will never give her up.”
Homelander opened his mouth to ask how all this had happened in the first place, but his phone made its text sound. It was from Anika. I found her airline reservation out of Newark Liberty.
On my way, he replied.
When he got to her office she was messing with the laptop. “Maxine Oldenhage,” she announced before he could say anything. “That’s the false ID she used. Flew out of Newark Liberty on an Oceanic Airlines flight to London. Disembarked at Heathrow, went through Customs, and then she vanishes. Here’s the passport photograph.” Anika turned the screen toward him.
It lit up with an image of Ashley, wearing a blonde wig with long curls and a lot more makeup than she usually sported. There was no smile on her face. She didn’t look good as a blonde. Her hair reminded him of Starlight, of Madelyn, and he didn’t like that. He wanted her red hair back. A quick scan gave him the name he’d just heard, her nationality (American, of course), a birthdate of April first, 1992—he rolled his eyes at that—a birthplace of Hackensack, New Jersey, an issuance date of July 26, 2019, and an expiration date of July 26, 2029.
Anika continued speaking. “So now we know she has a second set of false identification.”
“How? She might have decided to stay in London.” Homelander didn’t actually believe this, but it was a possibility.
“No, sir. The woman who sent all her furniture to a landfill so we couldn’t collect her DNA, wiped every surface in her apartment so we couldn’t pull her prints, who disposed of the fingerprints on file with us—that is not someone who would put all her eggs in one basket. This is someone who knows about contingency plans, who makes them. There’s at least one additional set of ID, maybe more.”
Homelander shrugged. “Sounds reasonable.”
“I’ll do the same thing I’ve been doing with the flights out of the US—everything leaving the major airports in the vicinity of London. Also the Chunnel, since she would have to present a passport to ride. They do spot checks of ID on the trains, so that’s also worth looking into.”
“What happened with her hotel room?”
“It’s been processed. There were a lot of fingerprints in the room. We’re currently running everything through the FBI database. It’ll take a couple of days at the very least.”
“What about that theory you had but didn’t want to tell me about until you had proof?”
“I’m still waiting for the yearbooks. That should be another couple of days too.”
“Yearbooks?” What the hell?
“I’ve been looking into her background. I believe I told you I’d discovered a few anomalies. I’m trying to find a way around what I suspect is false information. I’d prefer to give you a full briefing when I have solid evidence.”
He made a gesture with his hand. “I already agreed to that. Anything else?”
She nodded, and a strand of dark hair fell into her face. With an impatient gesture she swept it back. “Did Ms. Barrett ever say anything to you about her father?”
“No.” Then a memory occurred to him—needing Ashley for something, Madelyn telling him that her father had died, before Becca and Project Athena, but not too long. He’d mentioned it to Ashley on the phone, the first time he told her to get roses for Becca. “I mean yes. Her father died about nine years ago. She had to go back to Pennsylvania for the funeral.”
Anika raised an eyebrow at that. “The information on file for her indicates Robert Barrett died when she was four. I have my doubts as to whether it’s true.”
The idea that Ashley had lied to both Madelyn and him, to Vought itself, shocked him. “So where do you think she went, if not Pennsylvania for a funeral?”
“Somewhere she didn’t want to explain to you. Do you know what office she used when she was Director of Talent Relations?”
“Yeah, she was in the office that Also Ashley has now.”
“Also Ashley?” She looked a little confused. “Ms. Sobek?”
He nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“With your permission, I’d like to have her office processed, the same as we did for the hotel room. I’m not expecting DNA or fingerprints—it’s been too long since she’s occupied it for that. But I just don’t want to take a chance that I might miss something.”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “But I don’t want any more gossip going around that there is now, so I don’t want it done during office hours. Once she’s gone for the day—that normally happens at seven or eight PM—you give her an hour or two and then the forensics team goes in. Normally she turns up for work around seven, so have the team out by then and everything put back the way it was. I’d prefer that she not know we’re metaphorically going through her underwear drawer against her will.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where are we with her medical records?”
“Our hacker should have that information by end of day tomorrow at the latest.”
“Keep me informed.” Then he was free to text Also Ashley and retrieve Ryan for dinner with himself and Stormfront. Mirrorlander didn’t show himself for the rest of the evening.
From: Anika Bhatta
To: Homelander
Subject: Status Report Day 11
We’ve accessed Ms. Barrett’s medical records. Her doctor tapered her off Ativan and she should not be taking it anymore, so we can’t use a prescription for it as a clue to where she is. I have to presume that her obstetrician, when she gets one if she hasn’t obtained one by now, will write her a new prescription for prenatal vitamins under her new name. At this point she would be almost four months pregnant. An ultrasound was performed at her last appointment for the baby. Dr. Medlin advised that her delivery date was approximately January 21. It is not a multiple pregnancy, and he determined that the baby is a girl. If I can’t find her before then, we can run all births of baby girls from that time frame. It will be extremely time-consuming, but I’m sure we will have located her before that. Re: the fingerprints from the Park Hyatt New York, most of them turned out to be housekeeping personnel with the hotel, but there are some interesting anomalies. I’ll give you a full briefing when I know more.
He read the e-mail, absorbed the information in it, and stuffed the shock and questions down to be dealt with later. Right now the dinner had a higher priority than the fact that Mirrorlander was a father of a soon-to-be-bouncing baby girl. A little curl of malicious pleasure in his gut—Homelander had been the one who fathered a son.
Saturday came, and Homelander found himself looking forward to the dinner with Becca and Ryan with a little anxiety. Stormfront had been sweet and understanding when he told her about the dinner, and waved them both off when Homelander took hold of Ryan and they flew off to Compound #9. It made him feel uneasy, but it wasn’t an immediate problem so he shrugged it off. His son wore a green-and-white striped polo shirt and khakis and almost vibrated with anticipation at seeing his mother again. It made him feel sad. How could he manage to cut Becca out of Ryan’s life when it hurt him so much to try? But he had to do it for Stormfront’s sake; there was no way, he knew, that she would permit a rival for his affections, any more than she would allow Mirrorlander to keep Ashley if and when they found her. And that brought up the problem of what would happen when she was found, but he pushed that away too.
Becca must have been watching for them as she appeared the instant they’d touched down, a big beaming smile on her face and arms outstretched for Ryan. He ran to her and she wrapped him up in a hug. “I’m sorry, Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m not mad. I’m sorry.”
She dropped a kiss on top of his head. “That’s okay, honey. I was wrong not to tell you. I should have told you the truth from the start.”
He raised his face to look at her. “So you’re not mad?”
“No, Ryan. I understand why you were angry. Everything’s okay now.”
Homelander stood back and let them have their moment. Becca’s hair fell around her shoulders, long and loose, and she wore a dress that, he realized with a shock, was the same spring-green silk dress that she’d worn for their last evening, when he’d told her that he’d marry her if she got pregnant. Madelyn had called the next day to tell him Project Athena had failed, so that must have been the day they found out she was pregnant with Ryan. Was her lying to him really something she wanted to remind him of, or maybe she just remembered he liked her hair down and the dress was an appeal to his possible nostalgia for the days when everything was going well for him, with Stan and Madelyn in charge, and the fact that this dress was one she’d taken with her into exile could be read as her still having feelings for him? Or maybe she hadn’t thought that deeply about it and just picked a dress she knew he’d liked. Definitely easier to catch flies with honey than with the vinegar she’d shown him since he’d first learned she had birthed his son and then hidden both of them from him. If she thought reminding him of what he’d thought they had would turn him into putty, she had guessed wrong. When she looked up at him and asked, “Do you want to go in for dinner now?” he nodded, letting the two of them precede him into the kitchen.
To his surprise, when he looked through the wall, the sofa, chair, curtains and carpet in the living room were all perfectly intact, no trace of the violent spasm she’d experienced after Ashley’s visit. Had she called Facilities to have them replaced? He’d have Anika look into it.
The table had been set with a linen tablecloth, bright white, and place settings for three. Becca poured glasses of milk for both Homelander and Ryan. A glass of rosé wine sat next to her plate. She’d made an Italian meal for them: penne pasta with sausage, onions, and peppers; bowtie pasta in lemon sauce with chicken, artichokes, and mushrooms; black truffle and almond green beans; rosemary bread that he still smelled warm in the air, and tiramisu for their dessert. Was this another attempt at nostalgia, since Italian food was what they’d eaten on the first night they’d been together? Could she actually be trying to tempt him away from Stormfront for the comfort of an already-existing family? What about her persistent thorn of a husband? Best to ignore it for now.
After she had served out portions of the dishes to each of them, she seated herself and they began to eat. “Are you keeping up with your schoolwork?” she asked.
Homelander said, “Ashley’s been looking into private schools for Ryan. She thinks it will be beneficial for him to attend class with other students, for his socialization, that is.” He took a bite of penne pasta, noting the flash of anger passing over her face.
“And who is Ashley?” Becca tried to keep her voice level and took a sip of wine.
So she intended to play dumb? Fine. “Ashley’s the Senior Vice-President of Hero Management. She took over from Madelyn when she died.” Would she ask for specifics so he could tell her about William strapping explosives to her and blowing her up after Homelander had killed her? He found himself almost looking forward to it.
But she took the discreet path and didn’t, presumably because she didn’t want to hear bad things about her husband in front of her son. “And she’s close enough to you to have a say in how my son is raised?”
He contented himself with saying, “I trust her.” And it was true; she’d never cross him in anything. Except, of course, in running away from him with Mirrorlander’s child. “She has his best interests at heart.”
“And…that’s good.” Homelander thought she’d almost accused him of believing that she didn’t. And she was right—leaving Ryan to grow up in seclusion, with no one except her, was a recipe for maladjustment. “I’m glad his interests are what concern you.”
“How could they not? He is my son, after all.” The penne pasta was good, and when he took a bite of the truffle and almond green beans, he found them equally tasty. No one could fault Becca on her cooking. “You should know I’d never do anything to hurt him.”
Obviously she thought something else, but she gave him a smile that almost seemed genuine and inclined her head. “Of course. How is the schoolwork going, Ryan?”
“I just have tutors now.” He shoveled forksful of bowtie pasta into his mouth. “When Ashley comes back, she’ll get me enrolled in a Montessori school for the fall semester.” He wasn’t sure of the pronunciation. “She thinks it will be better for me to be in a class that’s smaller and learn at my own pace.” Homelander almost heard Ashley’s voice in Ryan’s words. “They have individualized learning plans.”
“Where is she?”
It was a casual question, slipped it as though it meant nothing, but Homelander sensed the danger. “She’s on vacation. I didn’t want her to burn out on the job. We have someone covering for her until she gets back. They aren’t involved with Ryan’s education.” His son gave him a dubious look but didn’t say anything to counter his lie.
“Well, we still have a few months before school starts. What are you doing besides being tutored?”
“I’m learning how to fly.” A shadow passed over her face but he was looking at his plate and didn’t see. “Dad and Stormfront are teaching me. I got to go out over the ocean the other day and it was really cool. I saw a whale and some dolphins.”
Becca took another sip of wine, to calm herself, Homelander assumed. “I thought we wanted to keep your powers quiet.”
“There’s not much point in that now, is there, Becca? Since I know he’s my son, I can train him so he can keep his powers under control. He needs to know how to do that, and pretending to be a normal human won’t do that. The food is wonderful, by the way.”
“Thank you.” A rough edge in her voice gave away her irritation. “I’ve always enjoyed Italian food.”
“I remember.” Their gazes locked and held. Why should she be the only one to push the nostalgia button? Besides, it would have her thinking she was affecting him, manipulating him to her will, and that would keep her hopeful, in line with what he wanted.
She swallowed. “You’re right, of course. Ryan does need to learn to control his powers. I’d been worried about that for a while before…things happened.”
Liar. If he hadn’t watched her meeting with Ashley, he might have believed it, but somehow Becca wanted a supe child with no powers and Madelyn had told her she could have that. If she fell for that, she wasn’t nearly as smart as she thought. “Well, then, you can’t possibly have an objection to my training him. It makes more sense than Vought assigning some rando who doesn’t even have my powers. How would they even understand how to control powers they don’t have?”
Her blood pressure went up and he could smell her anger. He’d called it back in the day when she’d first come into his life, during that first phone conversation; she had a temper. But for now she held it in check. It wouldn’t serve her interests to lose it. “You make a good point,” she murmured.
“Excellent! Are we ready for dessert, buddy?”
“Yeah!” said Ryan.
Maybe Becca felt grateful for the opportunity to end the conversation, as she got up from the table and cleared the used plates before putting a slice of tiramisu on two small plates and placing them in front of Ryan and Homelander. They ate in silence, other than Homelander saying, “This is very good too, Becca,” and her thanking him.
His cell phone suddenly buzzed with its text sound. “Let me check this,” he murmured and got out his phone. It was from Anika. Ms. Barrett’s cell phone just pinged a tower in New York.
All he could do was stare at the screen in disbelief. What the hell was Ashley doing in town? She had gone to London under the Maxine Oldenhage identity and vanished after clearing Customs. There was no way in hell she would come back to Manhattan of her own free will. His fingers shook a little and he decided that a reply text wouldn’t do. He had to get back to the Tower and speak to Anika.
When he put his phone away and looked up, Becca and Ryan were both staring at him. “Buddy, I’ve gotten an emergency text from the Tower and we have to go back now.”
“Now? But we’ve hardly talked at all. Can’t you let him stay a little longer and come back later to pick him up?” She made sure to keep her voice soft, beseeching, and her expression equally soft. Anger wouldn’t get her what she wanted.
“Is that okay with you?” he asked Ryan, who nodded. “Okay, then, Becca. I don’t know how long this will take. If it’s more than an hour or two, I’ll have the Vought security team on-site drive Ryan back.” It was an unsubtle hint to Becca that any kidnap attempts wouldn’t come off, and she seemed to take his meaning.
“Thank you, Homelander. Maybe we can set something up to do this regularly.” Her smile lit up her face, now that he’d done what she wanted. How had he ever fallen for her?
“I’ll get in touch with Stan Edgar and see what we can do. See you in a bit, buddy!” And then he was in the backyard of Compound #9, taking off into the sky, and wondering what the hell was going on with Ashley.