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

Ch 16 A Real American Hero

Her keys jangled and clunked in the door lock. The cries from the crowd of fans still rung in her ears as she closed her apartment door behind her. Leaning on it for a moment, she took a deep breath inwards to try and centre herself again, as her head tipped back onto the wooden frame.

Letting go of her breath, she lifted her heavy body off the door and shrugged off her coat. It had been a long day.

After being ushered away from Vought supes by suspicious PR exec Ashley Barrett, Jess and Chrissy decided to call it a day. Phil wasn't planning on coming back to set and since Chrissy's only role was to assist Jess, no one would really miss her. They had said their tired goodbyes and parted ways.

Jess had returned to the chaos she'd left earlier, only now her demeanour matched the mess around her.

The apartment was covered in case notes and stained cups, with half-finished drinks. Her morning coffee that was made just as Phil rang her earlier in the day, sat stale, cold and untouched on the kitchen countertop. As she looked around she remembered the moment only hours before when the sun cast down through the window and the apartment almost looked nice. Now it looked as if a whirlwind had powered through.

Knowing she couldn't live like this, she begrudgingly got to work tidying up. All Jess wanted was a hot bath. It was a rarity to find a New York apartment with more than a shower, but it was the one luxury she'd allowed herself.

'You can relax soon, but you'll feel even better in a clean apartment.' She thought to herself. As she picked up loose case notes one by one, the room filled with a balmy haze of lemon and rosemary, drifting through the air as her oil burner began to lift the mood.

The inside of her apartment was starting to feel homely again. Outside was a different scenario. A soundtrack of sirens rang out across the New York skyline. Darkness was setting in and a brisk cold wind swept across the outside of the apartment block. Every rooftop was damp from an earlier smattering of rain.

Black Noir lay diligently watching her through the window. After almost getting caught in her apartment earlier that morning, he was now sat at a safe distance on a rooftop across the street. He had no real reason to be there. It wasn't as if he was going to stumble on any other intel by watching her, none that he wouldn't have already found in her apartment.

But he wanted to be there.

When he was back at Vought Tower waiting for his next mission, she was all he could think of. Black Noir was often called in as a 'last resort' for Vought. He handled the messy tasks that other Supes wouldn't be able to handle - through fear of public backlash. Due to Black Noir's anonymity and ability to slink through the shadows, he could perform Vought's darkest bidding without the same risk his co-workers would face.

Alas, this meant that Black Noir would sometimes go days, sometimes weeks, without a real mission. Like a dog without a bone, he was bound to let distractions get him into trouble. Perhaps that's why he found Jess so intriguing.

He laid on the damp rooftop for almost an hour before she arrived home. The wet rain penetrated the vulnerable spots of his suit and the cold wind enhanced its invasive, icy presence with every gust. Of course, a supe could handle much more than a cold wind but it only made him more desperate to sneak back into the apartment; to relish the comfort of her, to welcome a warm embrace.

It was a fantasy. She didn't know him, no one really did. But Black Noir was convinced that the two of them should be connected in some way.

Jess on the other hand was completely unaware Black Noir knew she existed. She knew of him though. In fact, she was slightly afraid of the thought of him. A Vought killing machine, without the press fluff that Homelander and the other members of The Seven received. Even the anti-Vought blogs didn't have many details on who was behind the mask.

Ever since her co-workers from The Agency had said the footage of the stalker looked like Black Noir, she had tried to convince herself that it couldn't be him; despite evidence suggesting otherwise. The knife she found in Phil's trailer only added to her anxiety surrounding the case. The stalker was sending a message and they wanted Phil to know who they were.

One more cold gust of wind swept across Black Noir, but he didn't break his focus on her. As she bent down to collect each case note, he caught a glimpse of what lay beneath her shirt. He ached for her, grinding himself up against the cold, hard rooftop.

As she continued to clean up, blissfully unaware, Jess dimmed the lights a little. Her tired eyes instantly found relief. Pleased with the progress she was making, she took a moment to look around the space she had cleared so far. It wasn't perfect, but it would do for now. Her case notes for Phil were all in one place, unsorted, but at least they weren't on the floor.

Her Homelander case notes were another story. Earlier in the morning, before leaving to meet Phil, she had tripped over her makeshift theory board and numerous pieces of pinned evidence had fallen off. Flustered by the sight, she knew that replacing photos and case notes would bring up more emotions. For a moment she paused, deciding whether or not she had the mental capacity to attempt the task.

Black Noir, still watching from the rooftop, cocked his head to the side slightly with curiosity. He found it interesting that she kept the two case boards totally separate and he was starting to realise that this was purposeful. From the beginning, he had assumed Jess was only using Phil Madison to worm her way closer to Homelander. Whilst this was slightly truthful, Jess did have genuine commitments to Phil that were completely separate from her Homelander investigation.

Transfixed on her, he opened the pocket on his sleeve to take out a pair of underwear he had stolen from her earlier. He held it up to his masked face and inhaled deeply as he continued to watch her. He was totally ignorant to the fact that this was completely inappropriate and creepy behaviour. However, when you're a trained murderer who does the dirty work for a huge security firm, your moral compass is going to be somewhat misguided.

He was so besotted by her that he almost missed the black figure scaling up to her kitchen window in the dark. A tough feat, whoever it was had serious determination. Alert and intrigued, he moved closer to investigate.

Oblivious of any incoming danger, Jess was on her hands and knees mending the Homelander theory board. The rush of emotions she faced seeing photos of Vought executives and Supes that could have been the people behind Samorn's death - knowing she was so close to them now, but so far from the truth - was intense. Every time she pinned something back on the cork board, it almost felt as if the pin was going through her heart.

She persevered, knowing that she'd be able to relax as soon as everything was tidied away.

As she scraped the last few pieces of research off the floor, a sound caught her attention. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing nothing of concern. Jess continued to tidy, assuming her fatigued state was making her mishear the sounds from outside.

And then, a sudden scraping sound came from the kitchen area.

That's when she knew she wasn't just being paranoid.

Suspicion arose within her, but she didn't want to make any sudden movements. Despite alarm bells ringing in her head, she slowly got up from the floor and turned her attention to the direction of where the sound came from.

An open kitchen window.

She didn't open it herself. Someone else did. The scraping sound she heard was someone sliding the window up.

Without moving her head away from the kitchen window, she leaned over towards her desk and confidently grabbed the gun that was holstered underneath. She desperately tried to steady her breath whilst turning off the safety, but that sudden click sent a shockwave through her body. Fight or flight was kicking in - she chose to fight.

Just as she lifted her arms with the gun pointing towards the kitchen area, a dark figure lifted themselves through the opened window.

Black Noir?

Her stomach sank. Her co-workers at The Agency had said no one had ever survived a run-in with the masked Vought ninja.

She raised her gun as he lifted himself up and through the window. As he did, she studied him. Surprisingly slim, taller than most, with a missing blade on his right arm. She was starting to piece together the evidence, but it still didn't make sense why a Supe would stalk Phil Madison - and more importantly, it made no sense why he would come for her.

Unless, of course, he knew the truth about her Homelander investigation and why she was really getting close to Phil Madison.

Gripping the firearm, she followed him with her aim as the slender man in black walked around the short kitchen countertop that separated the kitchen and her small living space.

"Don't take one more step." She said, through gritted teeth, not really knowing if a bullet would even penetrate his skin.

He didn't stop. He continued to walk at a glacial pace. It was almost as if he was purposefully trying to build the tension; to watch the fear build in her eyes. As he moved forward, he stroked his gloved hand over the kitchen countertop. Jess had not yet cleaned the area and as his hand reached the cold mug of coffee left from earlier in the day, he swiped it off the countertop with a sharp strike.

The mug shattered against the adjacent wall, spraying fragments and coffee onto the floor.

He stopped to see Jess' reaction. She didn't flinch.

Perhaps there was part of her that had accepted her fate, as he slowly stalked around the kitchen countertop. But it wasn't just that. The closer he came, the more she noticed about him. There was something that was slightly off.

First of all, it was odd to see the empty loop on his arm where the knife should be. She knew it was missing from when it was left in Phil's trailer but surely Vought would replace the blade. If not for Black Noir's combat requirements, she was certain that Vought would insist on replacing all used weapons for brand consistency.

He continued to move closer after not getting the reaction he wanted, crossing the threshold between the kitchen and living space. The slowly dimming light from outside meant that the only thing casting light on him was the flicker from her oil burner. That's when she noticed the most interesting part about his costume. There was no reflection of light coming from his mask. 

As she focused on the inconsistencies, the man in black paused again. This time was different. This time it felt as if his performance had been interrupted. He started to back away, far less composed than he had been, like something had changed within him. Walking backwards to the window he entered, he wouldn't his eyes off her direction, but he wasn't looking at her.

The intruder was looking at what was behind her.

When he reached the windowsill his pace quickened and he clumsily slipped out, leaping towards her neighbour's balcony.

The hair on Jess' neck started to rise as she felt a presence behind her. It wasn't her or her gun that made the home invader leave.

She quickly spun around with her gun still outstretched to confront whatever or whoever was behind her.

"There's fucking two of you?" She asked as her eyes met a second Black Noir.

Standing in the doorway of her bedroom, right behind her, another figure in black loomed over her. This second Black Noir was a similar height, but more muscular in build. His arms would have dwarfed the first intruder. Comparing the two was hard when the only thing illuminating the apartment was the flicker from her oil burner and the fast depleting light from the windows, as night took hold.

There were subtle differences. This figure was far more intimidating. His suit looked more 'combat ready', as if the material was made to enhance his already super abilities.

Most importantly, there were no missing blades on his arm.

Not getting an answer from him, she asked another question, "You here for him or me?"

He casually looked towards the window that the original intruder left.

It was reassuring, but she wasn't out of the woods yet. Her stomach dropped realising that one of Vought's top supes was inches away from her Homelander research board. The fallen pieces had been cleared from the floor, but the board itself was still propped up against the wall outside of her bedroom.

Black Noir took a step towards Jess, towering over her.