The Grey Zone (Black Noir / The Boys Fan Fic)

Ch 15 Accidents Happen

Dashing out of the Metropolitan Museum and through Central Park, she only had to follow the crowds to pinpoint the location of the film set. She soon realised one reason why Phil Madison was in such a foul mood, it couldn't have been easy filming with a crowd of hollering fans nearby. Especially when they weren't there for him. Hundreds of people had gathered just to get a glimpse at The Seven.

Up ahead she could see a police cordon. On her approach, she slowed down a little so that security wouldn't think her odd for being out of breath. She'd already had a run-in with them previously and didn't want another one. However, so far all she could see was beat cops, not the regular Vought employees.

The crowds were unrelenting. Locals and tourists alike were watching from the cordon, practically clamouring over one another to see more. Of course, this was probably somewhat normal for film sets in such a public space but the added appearance of Supes made it all so much worse.

Everyone around was enamoured by the idea of superheroes. The Vought media machine had helped them gain public favour, but beyond that people often needed to see their mysterious powers in person to believe in them. Most people grow up wanting to be a hero, hoping to discover their own power - only to be disappointed by the mundane truth that they were 'normal'.

The general public looked on in wonder - wanting to be like them, wanting to be saved by them.

Jess caught the attention of a police officer who was working on crowd control and waved her Vought pass at him to signal she was granted access. He ushered her through the taped fence without a second glance at her pass. A couple of jealous onlookers turned their nose up, but their glares were interrupted by another person coming out from set.

Desperate to see if it was a member of The Seven or an actor approaching, the crowd cheered. The man laughed and waved as he got closer to them and passed Jess on his way out. Nathan A Lawson. Jess was perplexed, why would he come to Phil's set? Was he there for a confrontation? Was he there to leave a 'mystery gift'?

The officer continued to lead Jess away from the crowd, through the cordon, away from Nathan. There was no official Vought security on public location shoots, just a handful of NYPD beat cops trying to control the emotions of a desperate crowd.

Jess turned her head to watch him leave through the same cordon that she'd entered through. It surely was no coincidence that he was here when Chrissy noticed foul play, but Jess didn't have time to tail him. She needed to get to the 'gift' before anyone else.

It wasn't long until she found a sheepish Chrissy stood at the door of Phil's personal trailer. "Oh my God I've already had to deny access to two scriptwriters and they were so awful to me." She gushed straight away, clearly overwhelmed by the situation she'd found herself in.

Jess put her hands on Chrissy's shoulders gently and cocked her head to the side slightly. "I just want to make sure you're ok first and foremost."

No one had asked Chrissy that in a while and the answer was no. No she wasn't ok at all. She'd been spoken down to every day on set; by Phil, by technicians, by actors, by security. She'd had enough.

But that was only the tip of the iceberg, because now she was helping someone she assumed was a friend of the director investigate something she didn't truly understand. She'd walked into Phil Madison's trailer ready for another verbal assault and found something much more disturbing.

Chrissy had reached her limit. Usually, she'd be able to keep a professional level head but the ounce of kindness from Jess caught her off guard. She slumped into Jess' outstretched arms and sobbed into her shoulder.

Jess responded with a caring hug. She really felt for Chrissy. It was hard not to empathise, knowing how awful both Vought and Phil could be. Not only that but Jess had been used to saving young women from an abundance of horrific situations. Whilst this wasn't her usual case, Chrissy needed compassion, just like the many victims she'd seen before.

"Chrissy, you're a solid rock. You've done so well. I would have cracked long before now." Jess spoke softly, choosing her words carefully to make sure Chrissy knew she was in a safe space and her feelings were valid. When she came up for air Jess lovingly brushed the hair out of her face that had stuck from the wetness of her tears.

"It's a good job you're friendly with the makeup team. I think you might need a freshen up." Jess joked, hoping to lighten the mood. Chrissy cracked a small smile but it was obvious she was kicking herself for letting her emotions get the best of her. "Take a deep breath with me," Jess directed her, to calm her nerves.

Thankfully most of the crew were taking a lunch break in the absence of Phil Madison, so Jess could afford a little time to ensure Chrissy was ok.

"I'm not going to ask you to go in there again. You don't even have to tell me anything, but I'm going in there to clean up." She nodded as she spoke to Chrissy, in a bid to make her agree and feel comfortable doing so. "I won't take long. I just need to take a quick look and fix whatever is going on."

At this point, Chrissy nodded in return and turned away from the trailer door as Jess walked in. She hovered outside to make sure no one interrupted.

Jess walked into a stagnant smelling scene. Iron filled her nostrils, a scent she hadn't experienced in a while. The small trailer had a communal table area on one side and a mini kitchen area on the other.

The trailer door closed behind her and she turned to the table area. There was a puddle of what appeared to be blood, dripping from the white table onto the coffee-stained brown carpet.

Jess could only imagine the fright Chrissy had upon seeing this. To anyone else they'd have probably assumed a murder had taken place. But not Jess. She'd seen too many crime scenes in her time and knew the difference between something real and staged.

The mess was confined to the table. There were no smears on any other furniture, no splatters on the walls or ceiling. It was almost as if someone had carefully poured a cup of the crimson liquid onto the table.

She held back her hair, leaned over and sniffed the area. It definitely smelled like real blood, but whose blood?

In the puddle, two more 'gifts' were left.

One was a curled piece of engraved metal. Jess quickly took a picture before using a pair of nearby kitchen tongues to turn the metal so that she could see the engraving.

'Awarded to Phil Madison. BEST PICTURE'

It was the small plaque that was once attached to Phil's stolen Writer's Guild award.

Next to the plaque was something that spooked Jess instantly. A small black knife. Not just any knife. One that mirrored the blades on Black Noir's outfit. She saw them during her research and at the prop department. They were definitely his. Her stomach dropped.

This changed everything for Jess. How on earth would she go toe-to-toe with another Supe? She had not even gotten close to Homelander, despite chasing her initial suspicions for years. Besides, Black Noir wasn't just any Supe. He was the most mysterious one. She could barely find a scrap of information about him during her research. A cold chill ran up her back as the gravity of her findings sunk in.

Being revered as the 'White Widow' obviously mean that she'd been linked to some heinous crimes and monstrous criminals, but they all had something in common. They were human. Supes weren't quite the same.

She once again used the pincers to put the plaque and knife into a plastic bag. The Agency would be able to find a local lab tech to swab them. It would cost a fee, but it would be worthwhile to understand the 'gift' a little more.

The stale air filled her lungs. Trailers were notoriously small but the added stress made the walls feel as if they were moving in, inch by inch. She needed to clean fast as she didn't know when Phil would return, but she froze up for a moment. This was not the way she wanted the case to turn. Jess had a direct grievance with Homelander already, she didn't need another Supe to chase.

As she got on her hands and knees to clean the spilt blood from the carpet, her hatred for Vought rose to the surface of her mind. Travelling to another continent to investigate them further had landed her in an even more compromising position. Time after time, she had tried to convince herself that taking the case would get her closer to the inner workings of Vought, but she didn't think she'd be on her hands and knees cleaning up after a Supe. This was the exact opposite of what she wanted to achieve.

As she swiped at the bloody table with copious amounts of kitchen towels, the shame of her situation taunted her. With each swipe she moved more aggressively, taking out her feelings on the job at hand.

"Cleaning up after a fucking Supe." She muttered in disbelief, tucking her hair behind her ears once again to ensure no blood got caught.

A noisy group of set runners walked by the trailer outside and greeted Chrissy. Jess took this as a sign to hurry, but the carpet would prove much more difficult to clean.

She managed to bury the bloody kitchen towels at the bottom of a small bin. Upon rummaging to the bottom to hid them, she found an empty, clear plastic bag. Perhaps Phil was using substances to power through his days on set. That would explain his volatile mood swings. She held the bag, thinking of a quick fix.

Paper towels wouldn't be enough to pick up all the blood on the carpet, but she could stage a scene of her own.

She tossed the plastic bag onto the floor under the table. After picking up as much of the blood that she could with the towels, she grabbed the leftover coffee pot from the trailer countertop. The coffee that was left in the glass pot was carefully poured on top of the sticky blood, blending what remained of the red stain into the carpet. Jess then wrapped a trailer towel around the glass coffee pot and effortlessly cracked it against the corner of the table, almost without a sound.

The shards of glass dropped to the floor and glistened on the carpet.

No longer was this a spooky scene created by the stalker. Whoever came in the trailer next would see the broken glass, the coffee, the blood and assume someone had an accident.

If anyone looked too closely all they'd find was the mini, plastic ziplock bag under the table. Accidents happen, especially under the influence.

Impressed with her own creativity, she took a moment to remind herself that she was more than capable of handling the situation. This was proof.

It was time to get back to work.

The trailer door opened and caught Chrissy off guard. She jumped a little and couldn't help but peer through into the trailer as Jess stepped out. Her brow furrowed "That wasn't how I saw it." She protested, afraid that Jess wouldn't take her fear seriously.

"I know," Jess said "But a little cleansing was needed. Phil and I would appreciate your confidence on the matter." She looked back at Chrissy with a stern look this time. Of course, she'd been comforting before, but now that the possibility of facing off with Supe was all too real she needed to take the case more seriously than ever.

Chrissy understood. Sort of. "What now?" She asked, trying to make sense of things.

"The Supes that came to the set today, do you know which ones?"

"No, but we can take a look." Chrissy answered whilst gesturing to the other side of the set. She might not have been 100% comfortable with the situation but she was willing to help wherever she could.

The two of them began to walk through the trailers. Every footstep felt heavier than the last for Chrissy, she was still queasy from the sight of blood. Jess on the other hand looked as if she was marching into battle. As they gained closer to the designated fan and press area, Jess could see two heroes up ahead.

Not the actors who played them, the real heroes.

She paused.

With a flash of gold and green, The Deep was putting on a show for crowd.

And next to him, the red, white and blue of Homelander stood proudly, soaking up the attention.

It was all too much for Jess. Those feelings of aggression rose up within her again. Distracted from the task at hand, she suddenly started to think about the lives Homelander had stolen in Thailand. Samorn, the girl she had saved and place in witness protection, perished by his cruel laser vision.

Sweet little Samorn. Taken from the world by a Supe who was now less than 10 steps away from Jess.

Chrissy almost didn't realise that Jess had stopped walking, preoccupied with her own trauma. A familiar voice woke the two women from their inner thoughts.

"Ladies! So lovely to see you again." An arm whisked around Chrissy who was a few steps ahead of Jess. "Unfortunately it's verified personnel only here, no fangirls allowed."

Jess looked up to see the red-haired press executive who had previously collard them both to sign an NDA. This time she wore a name tag. Ashley Barret.

The woman was using her arm to guide Chrissy back to Jess, with more force than onlookers would have realised.

Neither woman had a snappy retort for Ashley. She'd caught them completely off guard and Jess wasn't going to put up a fight.

"Much less enthusiasm from you both today, girls," Ashley spoke through gritted teeth. Chrissy looked at Jess, hoping for her to push back as she did with Ashley previously. No smart remark came. Chrissy felt herself shrinking within once again.

Ashley walked the two of them back towards the trailers before Jess finally spoke, remembering she still had a case to solve. "Oh, that's a shame! We don't mean to pry." The statement displeased Ashley, she could tell that it wasn't genuine. "We just wanted to know who turned up today. I'm sure Phil would love to know who came to support him." This second statement was more convincing, but Ashley wasn't stupid.

"Remind me again your role in this production? How do you work with Phil exactly?" She asked. Everyone at Vought was trained to be suspicious of everyone who wasn't one of their own.

"Spiritual Advisor, I could fit a booking in for you but... I am quite booked up with important clients at the moment." Jess spoke down to Ashley whilst popping a card into her blazer pocket. She was back on form. "So, who was on set today?" She repeated.

Ashley paused, trying to figure out the two of them. Meek Chrissy and mysterious Jess. Two people who didn't fit in on a Vought production set - or anywhere Vought related for that matter. But ultimately she had nothing on them, she just didn't like them, so she answered. 

"Homelander of course, The Deep and," She lingered, trying to gauge if the two women were looking for anyone in particular. Jess was hoping to hear the words 'Black Noir' to solidify her findings, but she had an excellent poker face. "and Queen Maeve." Ashley finished.

"Interesting. Well, I guess I'll see you around some other time." Jess bid her farewell, walking away shoulder to shoulder with Chrissy.

"I hope not" Mumbled Ashley, as she clutched her clip board and turned back to her post in the press area.