[ Homelander knows he's too late to save Translucent before he even kicks down the door. He could hear the last moments of him trying to plead for his life with someone whose voice he didn't recognize, followed by the unmistakable sound of a human body being blown to smithereens.
He treads carefully, not wanting to get any bits of his dearly departed colleague on the bottom of his boots, and then he sees the kid standing there absolutely drenched in blood, still holding the detonator in one hand.
His eyes flash red as he contemplates lasering him - by all means, he should cut him in half and be done with it. But this guy's heart is racing faster than a frightened rabbit, and even under that thick layer of gore he just doesn't seem like the type to have single-handedly murdered a supe as strong as Translucent. He doesn't even seem like the ringleader.
If he lasered Hughie now, he'd be leaving a lot of loose ends behind, and he wasn't fond of that. Alright, he'll play it civil, see where this goes. ]
Is that a detonator in your hand?
[ He damn well knows what it is, and he looks around at all the blood and guts with his arms behind his back and his best 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' face. ]
[Some part of his brain tells him he's in shock; tries to justify the fact that he acted and triggered the detonator because of lingering shock from Robin's loss. He's covered in blood like he's just bathed in the sticky, pungent stuff; he can feel the way it creeps down his back, seeps into every corner and crevice of his body.
He shudders.
He's still trying to catch up with his own actions; one minute, Translucent had been pleading with him to spare his life, the next, the ringing in Hughie's head drowned out everything else, and, suddenly, boom. Translucent now covers the room Hughie stands in.
He blinks when he realizes someone is speaking to him. He blinks again when he realizes that it's freaking Homelander standing in front of him, saying something about the very obvious detonator in Hughie's hands. Oh shit. Oh fuck.]
Maybe I'm just happy to see you?
[No, that's a terrible attempt at a quip, something that Butcher could pull off better than him. He squeaks more than actually speaks; terror grips him, as cold as the temperature in the room seems to suddenly drop. He gulps, wondering how long he might have to live.]
[ Did this kid seriously just come at him with a boner joke? Homelander shakes his head, clearing his throat. ] Never mind.
[ The bad delivery of the quip combined with the squeakiness of his voice actually works in Hughie's favor, because Homelander's opinion of this situation just went from 'not the mastermind, but likely accomplice' to 'maybe this poor bastard was threatened into doing it', and the latter elicits the smallest bit of mercy. ]
Did someone put you up to this? [ He frowns, stern but not overtly angry, more like a frustrated parent than a guy who's still willing and ready to toss Hughie through the ceiling if he gives him an answer he doesn't like. ]
[Hughie blinks, taking a moment to process that he hasn't instantly been lasered to death and appreciate it. Vague echoes of the ringing in his ears still linger, additional aftermath of the absolute blood bath surrounding him, and he doubts he'll ever really be able to wash the blood off his hands; not entirely.
He lets the denotator drop to the floor, defeated. Whatever is going to happen next, he's screwed, no matter how it turns out. He's not going to die heaping blame on anyone else for his own choices, though; that, he's determined.]
No. I was supposed to be watching him, and I...I chose to trigger the denotator. It was me.
[As much as he wants to actually shrink into his own skin, he levels his gaze with Homelander as he speaks. He might not hold any self-preservation instincts, but he's not going to die a liar.]
[ He inhales sharply, an action he immediately regrets as every smell in this place is an assault on his super-senses. It almost makes him retch. How was he supposed to do a proper interrogation in here when he was too overwhelmed to get a good read on Hughie?
'Supposed to be watching him' is enough to confirm a few of his suspicions, though. ] And who told you to watch him?
[ He steps closer to Hughie, coming to terms with the fact that he's not going to keep his suit clean as he rests one hand on Hughie's blood-drenched shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to show off his strength without causing any real pain. ]
You don't need to be afraid of me. I just want the facts.
[Hughie feels oddly protective of Butcher and Frenchie, despite everything. He doesn't want them to have to suffer because of his own poor life choices, after all.
Still, though. He struggles with the weight of the fact of Homelander's presence in this room, and the fact that he hasn't lasered him yet, even though he damn well could have by now.
The shoulder squeeze is fairly effective; the unspoken implications of Homelander's strength echoing loudly in Hughie's thoughts.]
One told me his name was Butcher. Said he was with the FBI. And the other one calls himself Frenchie. I think they're both long gone by now.
[ He hears that name and nothing else matters, his lips curling into a snarl as he lets go of Hughie's shoulder and grabs him by the front of his shirt, no longer concerned about getting bits of Translucent on his uniform. ]
That's a very dangerous man you've fallen in with. [ He does his best to restrain his anger for Butcher and look sympathetic towards Hughie before he starts trying to yank him out the door by his shirt. ] It's not safe here. You should come back to Vought with me.
[ 'Should', as if he was giving Hughie a choice in the matter. ]
Sorry this is so late! Thank you for your patience. <3.
[Well, shit, Hughie thinks, as Homelander pulls him in by his shirt. So this is how he dies. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. He starts silently praying to every deity he knows, even fictional ones.
Part of him wishes he'd just taken Vought's money and moved on with his life; he and his dad could have found something better for themselves, couldn't they?
Or maybe he was always going to end up here like this; alone and at the mercy of Homelander.]
Sure?
[He squeaks out, as if he actually has a choice in the matter. But he isn't dead yet so, positive? He'll take what he can get, at this point.]
I'd say... [ He looks around as soon as they get outside, clicking his tongue as he stares out over the skyline. ] About twenty seconds.
[ There's only one way he can get there that fast, so hopefully Hughie isn't afraid of heights. If he is, that's just too bad. ] Take a deep breath and hold on. [ He throws one arm around Hughie and takes off into the sky. It's an awkward position to be carried in. Uncomfortable, probably a little painful, hard to breathe. Hardly the romantic hero carry he was always shown doing where he gently cradles someone in his arms before taking things off.
That level of delicacy was reserved for people who hadn't just murdered a member of The Seven. But, as unpleasant as it is, it's over almost as soon as it starts and Homelander lands down on one knee in front of the Seven Tower. ]
See? Easy peasy. [ For him. He lets go of Hughie and looks down at his suit, cringing as he realizes how much of Translucent's blood rubbed off on him during that flight. That'll be a pain to clean. ] Stick close to me or someone'll think you're a goddamn serial killer.
[The answer is more frightening than the question, and Hughie doesn't doubt that Homelander means it when he glances over to the skyline.
He doesn't need to be told twice when told to hang out; he reaches out and clings, trying not to consider the possibility of his 'accidentally falling from the sky' too closely. He is super awkward and uncomfortable, but he manages not to freak out too badly when Homelander lifts off and flies them to the famous Vought Tower. In the twenty seconds it takes them to get there, it certainly does occur to Hughie how likely it is he might never actually make it back out alive.
He's relieved when Homelander releases him, straightening up and trying to...well. He's not exactly in the best position to try and make himself look presentable, is he?]
Isn't the point of you bringing me here exactly because I'm a killer, though?
[Classic Hughie: looking a gift horse right in the mouth.]
[ There's something almost admirable about the way Hughie insists on staying in the hole he's dug for himself despite Homelander's repeated attempts to help him out of it. It's frustrating, no doubt, but more interesting than the legions of people out there who would turn into spineless cowards the second he glared at them.
He's starting to understand how this guy ended up being the one to kill Translucent. ]
The point of me bringing you here is that I need to know what happened. I need to know, and nobody else. Not yet. [ He looks Hughie in the eyes with a stern expression. It wouldn't completely surprise him if, at this point, Hughie walked up to security and said 'hi, I'm a murderer'. ]
I'll escort you in so you can get cleaned up. Let me do all of the talking. Got it?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for hughie;
He treads carefully, not wanting to get any bits of his dearly departed colleague on the bottom of his boots, and then he sees the kid standing there absolutely drenched in blood, still holding the detonator in one hand.
His eyes flash red as he contemplates lasering him - by all means, he should cut him in half and be done with it. But this guy's heart is racing faster than a frightened rabbit, and even under that thick layer of gore he just doesn't seem like the type to have single-handedly murdered a supe as strong as Translucent. He doesn't even seem like the ringleader.
If he lasered Hughie now, he'd be leaving a lot of loose ends behind, and he wasn't fond of that. Alright, he'll play it civil, see where this goes. ]
Is that a detonator in your hand?
[ He damn well knows what it is, and he looks around at all the blood and guts with his arms behind his back and his best 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' face. ]
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He shudders.
He's still trying to catch up with his own actions; one minute, Translucent had been pleading with him to spare his life, the next, the ringing in Hughie's head drowned out everything else, and, suddenly, boom. Translucent now covers the room Hughie stands in.
He blinks when he realizes someone is speaking to him. He blinks again when he realizes that it's freaking Homelander standing in front of him, saying something about the very obvious detonator in Hughie's hands. Oh shit. Oh fuck.]
Maybe I'm just happy to see you?
[No, that's a terrible attempt at a quip, something that Butcher could pull off better than him. He squeaks more than actually speaks; terror grips him, as cold as the temperature in the room seems to suddenly drop. He gulps, wondering how long he might have to live.]
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[ Did this kid seriously just come at him with a boner joke? Homelander shakes his head, clearing his throat. ] Never mind.
[ The bad delivery of the quip combined with the squeakiness of his voice actually works in Hughie's favor, because Homelander's opinion of this situation just went from 'not the mastermind, but likely accomplice' to 'maybe this poor bastard was threatened into doing it', and the latter elicits the smallest bit of mercy. ]
Did someone put you up to this? [ He frowns, stern but not overtly angry, more like a frustrated parent than a guy who's still willing and ready to toss Hughie through the ceiling if he gives him an answer he doesn't like. ]
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He lets the denotator drop to the floor, defeated. Whatever is going to happen next, he's screwed, no matter how it turns out. He's not going to die heaping blame on anyone else for his own choices, though; that, he's determined.]
No. I was supposed to be watching him, and I...I chose to trigger the denotator. It was me.
[As much as he wants to actually shrink into his own skin, he levels his gaze with Homelander as he speaks. He might not hold any self-preservation instincts, but he's not going to die a liar.]
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'Supposed to be watching him' is enough to confirm a few of his suspicions, though. ] And who told you to watch him?
[ He steps closer to Hughie, coming to terms with the fact that he's not going to keep his suit clean as he rests one hand on Hughie's blood-drenched shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to show off his strength without causing any real pain. ]
You don't need to be afraid of me. I just want the facts.
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Still, though. He struggles with the weight of the fact of Homelander's presence in this room, and the fact that he hasn't lasered him yet, even though he damn well could have by now.
The shoulder squeeze is fairly effective; the unspoken implications of Homelander's strength echoing loudly in Hughie's thoughts.]
One told me his name was Butcher. Said he was with the FBI. And the other one calls himself Frenchie. I think they're both long gone by now.
no subject
[ He hears that name and nothing else matters, his lips curling into a snarl as he lets go of Hughie's shoulder and grabs him by the front of his shirt, no longer concerned about getting bits of Translucent on his uniform. ]
That's a very dangerous man you've fallen in with. [ He does his best to restrain his anger for Butcher and look sympathetic towards Hughie before he starts trying to yank him out the door by his shirt. ] It's not safe here. You should come back to Vought with me.
[ 'Should', as if he was giving Hughie a choice in the matter. ]
Sorry this is so late! Thank you for your patience. <3.
Part of him wishes he'd just taken Vought's money and moved on with his life; he and his dad could have found something better for themselves, couldn't they?
Or maybe he was always going to end up here like this; alone and at the mercy of Homelander.]
Sure?
[He squeaks out, as if he actually has a choice in the matter. But he isn't dead yet so, positive? He'll take what he can get, at this point.]
Uh. How far are we from Vought, exactly?
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[ There's only one way he can get there that fast, so hopefully Hughie isn't afraid of heights. If he is, that's just too bad. ] Take a deep breath and hold on. [ He throws one arm around Hughie and takes off into the sky. It's an awkward position to be carried in. Uncomfortable, probably a little painful, hard to breathe. Hardly the romantic hero carry he was always shown doing where he gently cradles someone in his arms before taking things off.
That level of delicacy was reserved for people who hadn't just murdered a member of The Seven. But, as unpleasant as it is, it's over almost as soon as it starts and Homelander lands down on one knee in front of the Seven Tower. ]
See? Easy peasy. [ For him. He lets go of Hughie and looks down at his suit, cringing as he realizes how much of Translucent's blood rubbed off on him during that flight. That'll be a pain to clean. ] Stick close to me or someone'll think you're a goddamn serial killer.
no subject
He doesn't need to be told twice when told to hang out; he reaches out and clings, trying not to consider the possibility of his 'accidentally falling from the sky' too closely. He is super awkward and uncomfortable, but he manages not to freak out too badly when Homelander lifts off and flies them to the famous Vought Tower. In the twenty seconds it takes them to get there, it certainly does occur to Hughie how likely it is he might never actually make it back out alive.
He's relieved when Homelander releases him, straightening up and trying to...well. He's not exactly in the best position to try and make himself look presentable, is he?]
Isn't the point of you bringing me here exactly because I'm a killer, though?
[Classic Hughie: looking a gift horse right in the mouth.]
no subject
He's starting to understand how this guy ended up being the one to kill Translucent. ]
The point of me bringing you here is that I need to know what happened. I need to know, and nobody else. Not yet. [ He looks Hughie in the eyes with a stern expression. It wouldn't completely surprise him if, at this point, Hughie walked up to security and said 'hi, I'm a murderer'. ]
I'll escort you in so you can get cleaned up. Let me do all of the talking. Got it?