Chapter Text
Homelander had his phone with him at all times. Every self-respecting hero had to, logically, and the world’s greatest hero most of all. This particular day was a youth outreach event that had been scheduled months in advance, and he could use any distraction he could get. So, when his phone made the nearly silent beep he had set up for when Madelyn texted him, he pulled it out from the spot on the back of his belt and took a peek.
Something big is happening. Raincheck for tonight.
The sound of the snot-nosed fucking kids around Homelander faded out in favor of a heavy drumming sound. Homelander felt hot around the sides of his face, and something ugly tried to claw its way out. This wasn’t the first time she’d brushed him off. It had been more and more, now that she’d decided to get knocked up by some stranger. Fucking in vitro.
If this works out, you’ll thank me later.
A second message came up, not too long after the first. A moronic idea, really. As if he didn’t slave away for her. Everything for her. He’d earned some gratitude, especially after the day he was having, and would it kill Madelyn to give him what he deserved? Whatever it was, it could wait.
But he didn’t say that, obviously. Not in a text. Nobody was that stupid.
Okay. I’ll check in later tonight.
Phone back on his belt, and he was on again. The kids didn’t even notice, and if they did, who cared? It was ten more minutes for the 90-minute event, taking selfies and signing merch, and then he’d be out of the slog.
Two hours later, on the 99th floor, things were not going well. Madelyn had cancelled. That part had been expected, even if it stung, but she wasn’t answering his texts. He’d had to go to Ashley, of all people, and all she’d done was apologize and say that Miss Stillwell was unavailable.
It had been one shitshow after another. Lamplighter had to be let go, since there was only so long he could keep that loser on the team. The investors were tense, apparently, even though Mister Marathon had been replaced with basically no issues.
Now, Edgar had been looking for a replacement, and Homelander couldn’t care less. Yes, The Seven needed a seventh member, but none of them mattered as long as Homelander was there. Noir, too, if he thought about it. After no word from Madelyn for that long, he cancelled the meeting. Some crap with image and branding, going down the list of contenders. Madelyn was supposed to be there, and since she still wasn’t done five minutes before, there was no point in going.
He could just… drop down. Ashley couldn’t stop him. Madelyn might even be grateful if she really was stuck working on some last-minute thing. Homelander didn’t do that just yet. Instead, he tilted his head and really looked.
X-ray vision in the movies was nothing like the real thing. It had to read well on camera –the same reason they never used real bald eagle calls. Homelander had to turn it on, and then he could see through pretty much everything. A thousand human bodies, all meat and skin and some bone to hold them up, which he had to parse from wiring and each other. Usually, this part was easy, since he knew exactly where Madelyn’s office was on the 82nd, but she wasn’t there. Hm.
It was harder then. He could find her voice, let himself hear as much as he needed to as he looked, but it wasn’t like he knew where each voice was by the inch or anything. Volume mattered, and so did distance. But he found her, somewhere lower. The… 65th, if he had to guess. The sixties were all labs and medical rooms. Somewhere in that area, sitting in a private meeting room, on a laptop.
“And you’re sure that the samples are all clean? We can’t have a false positive.”
A pause. She’d muted the device, probably to stop exactly what was happening. Madelyn could be so adorable, sometimes.
“I’m trusting you on this, so if things go tits up, it’s your ass. You know that, right?”
Who was she even talking to? One of hundreds, probably. Homelander couldn’t begin to guess.
“I understand that we can clarify once the asset is here, but you said it can’t be moved until everything settles. We understand that, but you need to figure it out until then.”
Something delicate? An asset, so probably someone, if Homelander were to guess. The list of people Madelyn might brush him off for was short. Specifically, it didn’t exist. So there had to be a good explanation, even if she hadn't shared it yet. Edgar, probably. Or maybe the rapture had started, and nobody had told him yet. Hah.
Homelander was left to stew while he waited for her to finish, so he had the chance to think it over. He really wished she had answered his calls – he could have recorded those and gone over them a dozen times, dissecting every hitch of breath and loaded pause for something, anything to go off of.
A person, so a supe. Not Soldier Boy, since he’d been dead since before Homelander’s debut. That was a nice thought, having the greatest hero of the twentieth century on his team, but no.
It could still be a new member of his team, but he had the latest copy of the doc they were going to discuss at the meeting that day. There were dozens of candidates, but they all had established media presences. If it were one of them, he would be told, and they wouldn’t need to test or sample anything. The Seven didn’t recruit randoms. They took the best of the best from Godolkin, or Teenage Kix, or any of the dozen regional pageants or youth teams. Entrepreneurial solo acts, if they really outperformed in polling. There were some real powerhouses locked away in a blacksite somewhere, but those freaks were all liabilities. Couldn’t be that.
Homelander’s mind offered the next logical choice, but he tossed it aside immediately. No. Madelyn wouldn’t do that to him. Edgar, maybe, but Madelyn was running this show. She would never even think of it, so he wouldn’t either.
At some point, Homelander wasn’t sure when, he started pacing. He wanted to fly off, be somewhere else, but then he wouldn’t know if anything happened. He pulled out his phone again.
Something big is happening. Raincheck for tonight.
If this works out, you’ll thank me later.
It was for him. Maybe a sidekick. Or maybe something was wrong, and Madelyn didn’t know that he hadn’t been informed yet, somehow. It was an easier idea than where his brain was going, so he followed that idea. He was just being ridiculous.
He kept that feeling going until well past sundown. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he took the elevator all the way down to the 82nd. He’d been extremely patient, giving Madelyn a whole ten minutes after she went back to her own office.
She was beautiful, like she always had been. Perfect in every way that mattered. As much as Homelander wasn’t so sure she should raise a child at her age, there had been improvements from it. Two big improvements, specifically.
Homelander didn’t knock, because he never knocked, but her heart was already going like a drum before he opened the door. A stressful day, probably. It picked up a hair when the door opened, before slowing down. It was a natural reaction, from what he knew. If someone was already stressed, a sudden noise would make it worse, and then their heart would calm down after understanding that they were safe. Took a long time, though. A weaker man might be suspicious.
Then she stood up to say something, but he spoke first.
“Working late today?”
Her smile was always so pretty. The one she only used for him.
“You could say that. I wish I could have come to see you earlier, but I had back-to-back meetings. You know, Mister Edgar.”
He did know, but words could be a funny thing. She wished, but she wasn’t sorry. He closed the door behind himself as he walked in. Locked it, too. Ashley was probably skulking about.
“I can imagine.”
She always smelled so nice. Somehow, after a busy day, she smelled even better. It had taken some getting used to when she was sweet and metallic during pregnancy, but ever since, there was a perpetual hint of something else. Baby powder and milk, he was pretty sure, and something a bit like onions, which he liked less.
Her hand was on his chest, adjusting his suit, which was perfect. All these little tricks she still used to get to touch him.
“How has your day been?”
Terrible.
“It’s been okay. A shame about, well, you know. But the meet and greet went fine,” He smiled as he talked, and she smiled back. “Oh, I had to cancel the meeting with Image and Branding. There wasn’t much of a point. You understand.”
She had to have known. But he needed to see her know it. She was moving him towards the couch, and Homelander let her do it. Nobody else had that kind of power over him.
“That's fine. You’re right.” Of course he was. “We’re still only considering options, and nobody will be contacted until auditions.”
None of this mattered. If she wasn't going to take the first step, then Homelander would have to. He paused an appropriate amount of time. Letting the words that didn’t matter hang there. As though he cared.
“That’s good. Say, did anything happen down in the labs? I heard something odd from one of the geeks.”
Her heart didn’t start racing, or anything like that, but she did pause. It had to be important, then.
“I… John, can I be terrible? There’s something I need you to do for me.”
He wanted to stand up and walk out. As if he didn’t do every single fucking thing for her. As if he wasn’t where he was in the world, so that he could raise her up. As if she didn’t take and take and then forget all about him when she had what she needed. Homelander wanted to die. Instead, he smiled as warmly as he could.
“Of course. Anything.”
She leaned closer.
“I know I’m asking for too much, but I want you to let me keep it a surprise. I hate not being able to tell you, but I don’t want you to get hurt if I’m wrong. You deserve better than that.”
Not disappointed or upset, but hurt. It had to be serious, then. Her hand was on his face, and he leaned into her touch. Always so gentle, even though nothing she could do could hurt him. He put his hand over hers, holding it there. Homelander actually did need to be gentle with this sort of thing.
“So I need you to trust me to hide this until everything is perfect for you. Even if it doesn’t work out, I’ll tell you. But you need to let everything settle before then.”
She tried to pull him close, and this time he didn’t let her. She pulled herself closer instead.
“Say that you’ll wait. Say that you trust me.”
Her eyes were wet, or maybe it was just the lighting. That was the thing with women, most of the time. All she had to do was cry, and Madelyn would get everything she could ever want. Homelander had to fight and bleed and kill just to get the fucking scraps like a dog. He hated that she did that, and it had been happening more and more since the pregnancy.
He wanted to ask. He’d be right to ask. But there was no way around being cruel if he did that.
“I’ll wait. I trust you.”
He pulled back when she tried to kiss him and adjusted until he was lying on the couch, his head on her lap. He’d been performing all day already. He didn’t need that. Homelander needed her to trust him to know what he could handle. To believe that he could handle anything. If he couldn’t have what he deserved, the consolation prize would be fine. Madelyn was brushing her fingers through his hair, and he let his eyes close.
“You’re always so good to me, John.”
It wasn’t enough, but Homelander had a capacity for enduring.
The next day, Madelyn wasn’t in the office, and she still didn’t answer his calls. Even when she was on maternity leave, he’d called every single day and gotten an answer. They’d talked for hours on the phone. Or he’d talk, and she’d listen, and he'd listen to all the faint noise in the background. Same thing, really. And now, for something that was much less important, he got nothing. At least then, there had been some chance she could die. That had been the main reason he’d called every day.
The rest of his team, Lamplighter included, the prick, could sense the incredible patience he was holding onto. Even the Deep avoided his moronic little questions for the day. They all did the bare minimum, just enough to keep the weight of the world from getting any heavier.
It would have been easier a few years back, maybe if he and Maeve had still been closer.
Not even Ashley was in the tower, which seemed strange. He’d figure that little fact out when he went down to Superhero Relations and asked one of the nobodies down there. Another Ashley, because apparently they were mass-produced now. Unlike the other one, this Ashley had black hair. She let him know, in the same way that the others might, nervously, that the floor secretary was handling all calls to Madelyn Stillwell’s office.
In a moment of curiosity later that night, he confirmed that she wasn’t going home either. The full-time au pair was there, but Madelyn herself wasn’t. The baby was fine. It wasn’t Madelyn’s fault that he couldn’t… be what she needed. A failure of science. Of course, she would have chosen him if she could. Things would be different then. She wouldn’t have had to wait until she was well past her prime. She wouldn’t need a nanny. Madelyn could dedicate everything to… something in his throat was tense. Homelander stopped thinking about it.
It was another day before the main Ashley was back. Unhelpful as always, and now insisting she couldn’t say much and that Madelyn would know more. Three more days before he saw Madelyn again. Heard her, more accurately, going on about something inside a helicopter as it landed. Some guy on a gurney, the asset he was sure. Younger than him by at least 10 or 15 years. Awake, but bedridden for some reason or another. Homelander tried not to think about it. It was somehow both harder and easier now that everyone was in the same building.
He overheard snippets during the day. Nothing useful. Something about seizures and epilepsy and a dozen other things he didn’t care enough to know about. Scans and tests, too. It sounded horrible, in a distant sort of way. The power of a god brought low by a subpar brain.
Apparently, this supe also knew Madelyn, at least by name. Miss Stillwell. She brought him his phone the next day. Then every time Homelander checked, the man was looking through it.
It seemed miserable. Trapped in a room he didn’t want to be in, looking through his phone. Waiting desperately for somebody, anybody at all, for a distraction. Completely disinterested in the view to the outside world, because nothing that existed out there could change anything that existed in the room. Being watched by who even knew how many people, all waiting to find a use for you. Homelander couldn’t imagine living like that.
The call finally came in on the fifth day. Madelyn, from her personal line. She’d been careful to pick a time when he was free, but Homelander let it ring twice before answering. He always smiled during their calls, but this one felt brighter.
“Madelyn. Good to hear from you. I’m a bit busy, so let’s be quick.”
“John, can you come down to meeting room 64-B?”
He’d been off by one. Hm.
“Of course.”
The elevator ride was short. Every floor had 4 discrete meeting rooms. Vought International had thousands of people working in the tower, so there were meetings at all hours, even within the same team. Of course, the labs very rarely used theirs outside of holiday parties.
It was the big moment. He could have peeked, but that would ruin Madelyn’s surprise, and she’d worked so hard to hide everything from him. She’d earned it.
It actually was a meeting room. There was a big white table in the middle of the space. Madelyn and a man in a lab coat that Homelander didn’t recognize on one side. Probably a regular doctor. On the other side, closer to the door, the enigmatic supe he’d been keeping an eye on, standing with both hands on the table to prop himself up, a wheelchair behind him.
The first thing that Homelander noticed, now that he was seeing the guy in person, was just how bad his posture was. Being sick was one thing, but bad self-presentation was another. Freshly shaved, so it wasn’t like he was a total invalid. He looked at Homelander, and his eyes were so very green. His heart was definitely picking up, too. That was pretty common with fans. It was only natural.
“Uh… Homelander. Hi.”
Riveting. He looked to Madelyn and the little weasel next to her.
“Homelander, I’d like you to meet Richard Shuster. Richard, you’re already familiar with The Homelander.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet you.”
Maybe he was frightened, now that Homelander was really paying attention. Nervous in a way that had less to do with meeting the most famous person in America.
“A pleasure. Madelyn,” he said, turning slightly to look at her again. “You called.”
“We were getting to that. Could you take a seat?”
Sure, he could. It wasn’t like America’s greatest superhero had anything to do. The weasel spoke up next.
“Wonderful. Ah, Homelander, Sir, you are familiar with your origins, correct?”
The doctor genuinely seemed more nervous than the civilian. Homelander didn’t like that one bit. A bad sign, especially with this line of discussion. Still, he nodded, waiting for something relevant.
“Well, there was… what I would call an inventory tracking issue. Late in 1996. A, uh, relevant sample was, um, misplaced and then stolen.”
“Your point, Doctor.”
It was not a question.
“You and Mister Shuster are related.”
The world outside of the meeting room stopped, and all other noise faded away as his focus locked in on the human in front of him. Homelander was singular. Completely and utterly unique. Now they wanted him to believe… what? That there had been a clone, or something, that Vought hadn’t known about?
“You would be half-brothers, genetically speaking. I have the results here,” The doctor pushed a folder in Homelander’s direction, which he snatched up and opened. “With second and third opinions from other doctors working here to confirm. You share 25% of your DNA, lining up with–”
“Stop talking.”
The doctor stopped talking as Homelander read the notes. The other supe, Richard, was looking at him. There was some uncertainty, but not as much as Homelander expected. He had to have known already. It hadn’t happened in the building, or Homelander would have overheard. The day Madelyn was missing, maybe the meeting on that first day. Madelyn must have told him first. Primed Homelander’s… primed him to be ready for this meeting. Confirmed that everything was real, just like she had promised she would. Trying to protect him, in a way.
The folder was closed, and he put it back on the table. Homelander could feel his own heart racing. There were a million things to do now. When he smiled at Madelyn, it was from a joy he hadn’t felt in years.
“Well, Madelyn, it looks like we have our seventh member. We’ll have to talk to Image and Branding about this, but–”
“I’m sorry, no.”
The future Homelander had only just started to form with his hands was thrown against a wall. Brothers and superheroes side by side. Having Richard get tested to see if he had the same struggle as Homelander. A movie, so he could finally have someone better to work with on set. Richard was ruining it.
“I appreciate the gesture, but… I don’t think I’d be a good fit. I’m not a superhero.”
Not a superhero? Who would ever turn this life down?
“Not a superhero? I – Madelyn, he’s a supe, right?”
The weasel spoke first.
“That’s actually why I’m here. Mister Shuster–”
“Shut up. Madelyn.”
“That’s part of the issue, Homelander. Richard, from what we understand, didn’t show any signs of having powers until very recently. As you know, most supes present some kind of ability before the age of ten.”
Richard had to be… 25, or maybe 30? That was a big gap.
“But he has them now, right? So it doesn’t matter.”
There was a tension in Madelyn. He didn’t like it. She was still hiding things. Protection was one thing, and this was another. Richard spoke first.
“From what I understand, Doctor Reed here is, well… Doctor? I don’t really get it myself.”
There was a pause until Homelander gestured for the weasel to speak. Did he have to do everything around there?
“Mister Shuster seems to have developed some kind of… unusual… cerebral growth. If I were to speculate, it seems that the… growth… has caused the parts of his brain that connect to his powers to become active. This lines up with the start of the status epilepticus that presented several days ago. He had powers before then, naturally, but only in regard to superhuman hardiness. The new powers, so to speak, were… dormant.”
Homelander wasn’t a brain surgeon. He couldn’t see anything specifically wrong with Richard’s brain. It was all meat. But the term brain growths didn’t sound good. People died every day from things he couldn’t see.
“And it is… getting worse?”
“From what we can tell, his condition is improving, but we have less than a week of information.”
“It isn’t every day now, but it would be really bad if I seized up mid-flight.”
Richard could fly. His brother could fly, but his brain was stealing that from him. Stealing it from Homelander, too. He blinked several times. He needed to rein this in.
“Madelyn. You’ve been very quiet. Is this why you brought me here?”
She was very still when she spoke.
“The next few months will be critical. I wanted to make sure the two of you had a chance to connect before anything happened. Richard also wanted to meet you.”
That was a good thing. So why did he want to walk out? He couldn’t look Richard in the eye, or Madelyn for that matter. He had a brother, and in a year, he might not have one anymore. Maybe she had been right to hide this, and wrong to tell the truth.
“Homelander.”
He looked up at Richard. The younger man had a tension to him. Like he didn’t know how to say whatever he was trying to say.
“I don’t think this is going to kill me. But until I know for sure, I want to take that time for us to get to know each other. We’re related, but I have… had… a family until now. Uh, the seizures, they’ve kind of fried my brain? I don’t really, like, know me. But I would like to get to know myself with you, if that makes sense.”
It sounded like a question, even though it wasn’t. What kind of life had Richard lived, to pussyfoot around like this? And here he was, asking Homelander to spend hours and days letting Richard find himself, as though he didn’t have more important things to do, like saving the country.
But it wasn’t like Madelyn. Madelyn would take and take, and give him scraps when she had so much. Richard didn’t have anything now. He didn’t even have himself. Maybe he had a family of strangers he didn’t know, and maybe he had a job that wouldn’t matter. Homelander could fix all of that. Wash it away. And he would get everything the other man had, in a sense. Homelander was a hero. Of course, he’d save his brother.
“I’ll do it. If you think about the hero stuff. I don’t need an answer today, but once we know you’ll be okay.”
Homelander could wait. Richard just didn’t get it yet, but he would. He had all the time in the world.