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

Ch 24 Tap, Tap, Tap

The alarm system chimed as Jess correctly entered the pin code and helped Phil Madison through the door. He was heavy and despite cooperating with her, his sluggish movements made guiding him a near-impossible task.

By the time they had made it back to Phil's townhouse, it was 2:30am, but thankfully Phil had slept throughout the whole journey.

The house was just how he had left it post-break in, apart from the pile of unopened mail which had built up in the entrance. Letters crammed under the door as it opened, just enough for the two of them to squeeze through. Untouched, empty, abandoned. There was an eerie presence that lingered. It was as if they were walking back into the stalker's lair.

But Jess had no choice but to bring him there. She couldn't have taken Phil to her own apartment, especially knowing who lay in her bathtub.

As she pulled him through the house to the nearest seat, she turned on every light switch that she passed. The sudden illumination flushed out any shadow, giving an illusion of safety.

Groggy and half awake, Phil only realised where she had bought him when he finally felt his body sink into the sofa. It was the smell of the furniture that hit him first. The familiar, once-comforting, softness suddenly felt like a curse. He looked up and around him slowly, taking it all in.

Phil had purposefully avoided returning to the townhouse. In his mind, The Agency was not enough to protect him and the building wasn't safe until his stalker was apprehended. His own strategy of bed-hopping every night was working just fine. Ultimately, he was on the move so much that the stalker simply couldn't keep up. Or so he thought.

Jess watched Phil's face change as he scanned his surroundings. Fear swept across his rosy cheeks, washing them white. Torn between her client's wellbeing and the supe in her apartment, she found herself unable to make a choice: stay or go?

Phil needed someone to stay with him, but The Agency didn't have the resources to send anyone. Reggie had already warned her that another case was taking precedence, but Jess was desperate to get back to her apartment and make sure the Supe in her bathtub wasn't dead, or worse, rummaging through her Homelander research.

"I need to do a security sweep," she announced whilst turning her back on Phil to ensure the upper levels of the house were empty. Just in case, she left her clutch bag downstairs and took her heels off to reduce the sound of her footsteps.

The sweep was more of a performance for Phil. She knew that he didn't want to be there, but it would be easier for her if he was comfortable enough to stay the night. Truth be told, Jess simply wanted to avoid his inevitable protest about being back home so that she could return to Black Noir.

But despite her confidence that Phil would be safe in the well-alarmed house, the darkness that awaited her at the top of the stairs felt ominous.

Phil wanted to call her back to him but fear had created a lump in his throat. He watched as Jess slipped off her heels and began to climb the stairs barefooted. His tired body tensed up in her absence. Seldom was he ever alone these days.

Silence closed in on him as Jess checked the rest of the house. His stiff joints cracked as he straightened up and shuffled to the edge of the sofa. Running a finger over the coffee table in front of him, he noticed a thin film of dust had settled across the room. Once upon a time, he would have never let the house descend into such a state.

The old townhouse was his pride and joy, a regal home with a modern interior, in the upper neighbourhood of New York. It was his and his alone, unlike the films he worked on which Vought Media had been quick to remind him were part of their intellectual property.