Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want

51

It's very weird seeing the ground open before your eyes.

All of your possessions, the things you have conquered through the years, life as you know, gone. Lucky were the ones who either weren't at home or inside a building, lucky were the ones who weren't there. The mortifying sight of destruction and death that was cast upon humans, as if Judgment Day had arrived and no televangelist had the time to try and predict it. Entire villages tore apart like sheets of paper, human life once again exposed as fragile when confronted with natural disasters, a reminder that life could end at any day, for any reason, and there was no way to stop it. The skeptics ran way, the religious prayed, but no matter the God or lack thereof, they all met the same fate. People screamed and cried, squeaked at the sight of inevitable end, wondering if there was any power, supernatural or not that could save them from the ultimate demise. Little did they know, a single person was the one responsible for all of their suffering.

John knew where Nina was. He knew that she was back at the Tower, he knew that she was mad at him, he knew that people were probably looking for him. He could come back and smile and pretend nothing happened. But he was furious. He was furious with Nina, for making him do things he didn't want to do. He was furious at himself for not saying no, for not putting his foot down when his girlfriend basically forced him to be in a children's hospital. No matter what, he hated children. He hated children because even those sick, moribund children were being taken care by someone, while he had to be locked away in big cages as a child, to be tested and mocked relentlessly, used to craft the ultimate weapon. Those dying kids were treated with more respect that he was ever given, and that pissed him off. He clarified to Nina that he didn't want to be a dad, and that he didn't like their annoying cries and voices, but it was because he had cried and screamed to no avail and no one came to his rescue. When the sick Pablo child called him a clown, all of his feelings resurfaced in a violent way, in front of everybody. His hatred of children would never end, because he was mistreated as a child, and he felt like that child should have met his end right there.

Nina intervened, but not in his favor. It was in favor of that child, who said horrible things to him. Truth was that on the inside, John was still that child. He needed the attention, he needed a lap to sit and be caressed, he needed and craved human interaction, but he only got submission out of those who feared him. It appeared to be the first time in his life that someone showed him any compassion, someone who wasn't a puppet, someone who had a spine, and in the first conflict, she finds herself defending a child that isn't him, and that she wasn't even related to. John felt instantly betrayed by her, and abandoned as soon as she called the meeting off. He could've followed her, he could've asked what the fuck was wrong with her, but he didn't. He just wanted to be out of there, out of that city, out of the United States, out of sight and out of touch. So he did what he knew was best: he flew away.

Unfortunately, he could fly away from the location, but not from his feelings. As he crossed the ocean to the Sahara desert, he couldn't hold back his tears. He tried to fly faster, as fast as he could so they would dry, but they just kept coming, a reminder that he let yet another woman hurt him. He felt like an idiot, always thinking about how he let insignificant humans in his life, just to be continuously let down by every single one of them. He killed many, he stared at their pathetic eyes before snuffing their life out of them, but his pain still persisted, every single interaction he had would bleed insecurity and bitterness, and it was because he was never given a real chance to be a person deeper than the costume he was wearing. Nina wanted John so badly, she talked about how he should just be John, and ditch Homelander, but there was no John - just the symbol of American pride stuffed into a suit, a killing and indestructible Vought machine, doing the only thing it was taught to do: seek and destroy.

The Earth was so fragile compared to his powers and his grandioseness that the ground parted as soon as he landed in the hot desert, his impact felt for miles to come. His laser red eyes tore apart everything he saw in front of him: dromedaries, travelers. He flew to villages full of people, all those nameless to him, and tore them apart like animals. He would throw horses against their houses, smearing blood and guts all over their walls. He squished heads with his own hands, he gauged people's eyes as they tried to run away. There was no Maeve to witness, there was no idiot with a cellphone to record it, because he didn't give them any time to. His red white and blue uniform turned all red, red with the blood of innocents and red with his anger. No one would know. No one would care. It's not like the news would give a shit. One by one, these people were slaughtered. Entire families and their friends, their livestock. Their fields, covered with their blood. Tremors were felt for miles, and as soon as they had began, they stopped.

Homelander sat on his own mess, staring at disembodied heads, slashed limbs, guts covered in bright red blood, scattered all over the place. That iron smell of blood started messing with his senses, but instead of leaving, he rested his head over his folded knees, crying over every single thing that had happened to him since. He would never be loved as he wanted to be. He would never be taken care of - he would never heal. He wanted to die, as he remembered how Stormfront died, but the difference was that she died because she was weak. He was the most powerful Supe of them all, and he couldn't die. That was perhaps his biggest source of agony. The people he killed had the privilege of not existing on that world anymore, and unfortunately for him, that was not possible.

He was living in hell, and he wouldn't see any peace for a long time.