𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | 𝐋𝐄𝐎

She knew my name now.

I did say I like risky, but even I knew it was somewhat reckless. Watching her from the shadows, I felt a twinge of something I wasn't used to. Not guilt—no, that was long dead and buried—but something like responsibility. Carrie was vulnerable, broken in ways she didn't even fully grasp. She had power, but power without control was a danger to everyone, especially herself.

And now, she knew my name.

And there was Homelander. That bastard was getting more unhinged by the day, and if he got his claws into her, there would be no stopping the chaos.

I stayed in the darkness, watching her bedroom window from a safe distance, my back pressed against the rough bark of a tree. The night air was cool and quiet, but there was a charge to it. Like a storm building just beyond the horizon. She was inside, probably still shaken from what had happened. I'd seen it all.

"Oi, you plannin' on brooding all night, son ?" A voice broke through the silence, rough and dripping with impatience.

Butcher—my dad, walked over toward me, my ears picking up his footsteps. He wasn't really one for father-son moments. Still, he had that way of creeping up behind people, lurking in the background until he decided to make his move. Stealth wasn't his strength, but intimidation? He had that down.

I glanced over my shoulder. Butcher was standing there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his long coat, that ever-present smirk pulling at his lips. He always looked like he knew something you didn't, like he was three steps ahead of everyone else. Most of the time, he was. Frenchie and Kimiko were just behind him, Frenchie leaning against a tree, Kimiko perched like a silent shadow. Hughie was hanging back, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, clearly not wanting to be here.

"Relax, I'm just watching," I muttered, my eyes flicking back toward Carrie's window. "She's been through enough."

"Yeah, well, haven't we all," Butcher said, his smirk fading. He walked up next to me, his gaze following mine to the window. "But that doesn't mean she gets a free pass. Homelander's already sniffin' around, which means she's a liability now."

Butcher's gaze was fixed on Carrie's window, his expression a mask of cold determination. He took a deep breath, his shoulders stiffening with a mix of weariness and resolve.

"Look, Leo," he started, his voice uncharacteristically somber, "there's somethin' I need to tell you. It's about your mum, Becca."

I turned to face him fully, my own expression mirroring his seriousness. "What about her?" I asked, my voice tight with apprehension.

Butcher's gaze was distant, his eyes clouded with a memory that clearly haunted him. "Eight years ago, Becca was workin' at Vought. Senior Director of Digital Marketing, remember? We were invited to a Christmas party at Vought Tower. I didn't like it, but she insisted on goin'. Said it was important for her career."

I nodded, the memory of that event a distant echo from my childhood. It was one of those occasions where I'd been left with my mom's sister Rachel — even though I was a teenager — so Mom and Butcher would go off to some fancy corporate shindig.

Butcher's face darkened, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. "At that party, I met Homelander for the first time. He was charming, and everyone was in awe of him. But I knew even then that something was off about him. A few days after the party, Becca had a private meeting with him. I didn't know what was happening until it was too late."

His voice cracked slightly as he continued, "Becca came home after that meeting, and she was different. She was distant, her eyes haunted. I tried to get her to open up, but she kept shutting me out. I couldn't understand it then. All I knew was that she was falling apart and I couldn't reach her."