"You shouldn't have dragged Hughie into all this. You've ruined his life!"
Annie glared at Billy, her expression dark. After watching the future footage, she'd seen the true face of Vought and the Seven. Still, that didn't mean she had any love for Billy Butcher.
If anything, she felt even more sympathy for Hughie.
Billy shot her a glance and scoffed. "You don't know shit. I just gave the lad a chance to be a man. A real man. Hughie—none of this's happened yet. You can still walk away. Go live your normal life."
Hughie gave a twisted smile, equal parts bitter and helpless. "And if this all goes live on the internet, you really think I can go back to normal?"
He couldn't help recalling what Billy had said in the video: You wanna spend the rest of your life wishing you'd done something?
Hughie knew he was a coward at heart. But sometimes, even cowards had to find courage. Even if it was just for one heroic second.
Billy was clearly pleased with his response. He nodded approvingly. "That's more like it. You've got to start hitting first, mate. Don't worry—we're in this together."
Annie, watching the two of them getting way too chummy for her liking, frowned and cut in. "Focus on the video, will you? Quiet!"
Onscreen, Hughie was clearly starting to realize he'd gotten himself in too deep. But at this point, all he could do was follow Billy's lead.
Billy's plan? Go find backup.
So the two of them headed off to a rundown part of town and paid a visit to a buzz-cut guy known as Frenchie.
Frenchie lived with his girlfriend and was currently tinkering with a table full of firearms—some of which were very much illegal. Just one look and it was obvious the guy wasn't exactly law-abiding.
The moment he saw Billy, he greeted him with a grin. "Well, well. Mr. Butcher."
"Fitting name," Hughie muttered under his breath. With the way Billy acted, "Butcher" wasn't just a surname—it was a job title.
Frenchie and Billy went way back, though from the vibe between them, it wasn't exactly a warm reunion.
The first thing out of Frenchie's mouth?
"You still owe me money, you bastard."
Then, eyeing Hughie with a smirk, he asked, "This kid's still alive?"
That hit Hughie like a punch to the gut. What did that say about his chances, tagging along with Billy?
After a bit of not-so-friendly back and forth, Billy led Frenchie over to a parked van and goaded him into popping the trunk.
Inside?
Translucent, unconscious.
Frenchie blinked. "You stuffed Translucent in your bloody trunk?!"
Realizing how bad this situation was, Frenchie immediately freaked. Right in front of Hughie's terrified face, he pulled out a revolver and jammed it under Billy's chin.
"You lunatic! Get him out of here. Now! Right fucking now! The guy's got a tracking chip in him—Homelander could be on his way already! And you brought him to my house?! This has nothing to do with me!"
Billy, staring down the barrel, didn't even flinch.
"It does now. He's seen your face."
He flashed Frenchie a crooked grin. "Come on, mate. I need your help. You don't help me, I ain't leaving. Not unless the whole bloody Seven shows up."
Watching from the outside, Deadpool couldn't help but laugh. "Damn, Butcher! You're a real piece of work! Brutal with your enemies, manipulative with your own guys—chef's kiss!"
Hughie gave Billy a sour look. "Couldn't you have asked him a little less... psychotically?"
Billy's grin widened. "Oh? What would you prefer, mate? Me get all weepy on him?"
He adopted a high-pitched whine: "Oh no, my sweet boy, please don't leave me! I need you! I can't do this without you!"
He dropped the act and rolled his eyes. "Get real, Hughie. We've got big shit to handle. No time for hand-holding."
Hughie sighed and rolled his eyes. But deep down, he knew Billy wasn't wrong.
The man was unhinged, reckless, borderline sociopathic—but he didn't back down. Not from Vought, not from the Seven. And Hughie? He couldn't help but admire that. Even envy it.
Back in the video, the scene cut to Vought HQ.
Surprisingly, Translucent's disappearance didn't raise many alarms. The guy had a reputation for vanishing whenever he felt like it, especially when he wasn't on assignment.
But what was getting attention?
The plane crash that killed Mayor Steve of Baltimore.
Vought's Vice President, Madelyn Stillwell, looked visibly shaken in her office as she prepped a bottle of breast milk. Homelander barged in without knocking, pretending to avert his gaze, all performative manners.
He brought up Translucent's disappearance and offered to find him.
Madelyn turned him down flat. Apparently, she didn't think it was worth Homelander's personal time—there was something more pressing.
She mentioned the Baltimore crash.
Coincidentally, the news was airing coverage: plane wreckage in the ocean, and The Deep on camera, solemnly reporting no survivors.
"I just saw him here Tuesday," Madelyn said softly. "We had a meeting."
She seemed genuinely surprised by the mayor's death. Homelander—the real killer—just brushed it off, pretending it was all an unfortunate accident.
Viewers watching the video from the outside looked visibly disgusted. Some even gagged.
Madelyn didn't beat around the bush.
She told Homelander that The Deep had found laser burn marks on the plane—and had told only her.
Homelander didn't bother with the act anymore.
"Then just say what you mean," he told her coldly.
Madelyn gave him a maternal smile, the kind you give a naughty child.
"You're supposed to be hope. Baseball. America's sunshine. You can't go around settling scores."
Watching from the outside, more viewers started putting the pieces together. Had Homelander killed the mayor on his own? Without Vought's orders?
The next video confirmed it.
Homelander confessed—bluntly. He'd overheard the mayor threatening Madelyn during a meeting, blackmailing her with Compound V. So he took matters into his own hands.
It wasn't for strategy.
It was for her.
To protect her. To eliminate a threat. To avenge what he saw as a personal offense.
Deadpool jumped out of his seat, laughing maniacally.
"Oh, this is getting spicy! Super psycho in love with Mommy Dearest! A textbook Oedipus Complex wrapped in a flag and cape! Hahahahaha!"
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T/N:
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