Chapter Text
It was a regular day at the office. Mayhem laid snuggled on the couch in her wolf form, head on Hughie’s lap, napping contentedly. Hughie’s hand scratched through her fur while he checked his phone, half paying attention to the TV he turned on for white noise. Frenchie was at his desk, tinkering and writing down plans for a new anti-Supe bomb, while Kimiko sat next to him. She nodded her head as he occasionally explained the design of the bomb, but her attention was on the TV. A rerun of I Love Lucy. M.M. was filing taxes for everyone, giving the occasional grumble under his breath. A peaceful evening.
Until Butcher came back.
The first sign was a distant car door slamming shut, and Mayhem’s head perking up. As heavy footsteps to the door came closer, Hughie turned his head to see Butcher’s large form stride in. When he turned his head back, Mayhem was gone. Ever since officially joining the Boys, she had avoided Butcher as much as possible. He hadn’t exactly been thrilled when Hughie revealed the dog he sort-of inherited was actually a Supe, saying she was a threat to the integrity of everything they were trying to do. Frenchie had to argue that Kimiko was also a Supe and a valued member of the team. Even after he had relented, everyone had noticed how she continued to avoid him, but no one wanted to address it directly. Her constant avoidance suited Butcher just fine, as far as everyone knew.
But recently it was getting ridiculous, he thought.
Anytime he came into the room, came back from a mission, even just walking into the kitchen for a beer, she upped and left. It was quick and quiet, but he began to take it personally. How was he supposed to lead a team when one of its members didn’t want anything to do with him? Really, you’d think he had the fucking plague with how she avoided him. What made it worse, was that no one else seemed to notice, or even care. They took it with quiet acceptance, and he began to also note that they would distract him with something if he tried following her. This time, it was Hughie, asking him how the stakeout went, but Butcher cut him off as M.M. began asking about his contribution for dinner.
“Anyone care to tell me where the fuck she’s off to?” Butcher nodded his head in the direction May had disappeared.
Silence. Typical.
“Do I gotta repeat myself? You bastards went deaf while I was out?” He kept his tone friendly, trying to hide his growing agitation.
Finally, Hughie spoke up. Again, typical. Always covering for her, her goddamn keeper.
“I think she had to go to the bathroom or something, man.”
“Bullshit. I may be as dashing and handsome as a prince, but I ain’t thick. She’s avoiding me, and I ain’t even done nothing to her.”
Hughie let out a sigh, scrubbing his hand across his face before letting it rest on his hip. “To be honest, she’s afraid of you, ok?”
“What, of little ol’ me?” Butcher let out an incredulous chuckle.
“Yes, large, intimidating man, you.” Hughie gestured up and down. “You’re big and scary, muscular, you’ve got that beard.”
“So is M.M., and I saw her literally eatin’ out of his hand the other day.” Butcher fired back.
“Well, I actually took the time to get to know her, and I don’t, you know- throw shit.” M.M. chimed in, not bothering to look up from his computer screen.
“When have I thrown shit?”
“Just last week you got drunk and broke my Billy Joel vinyl against the back door! And I still expect you to pay for that!” Hughie pointed an accusatory finger at Butcher. “And it’s not just throwing things, it’s the drinking, the yelling.”
“Again, when have I-”
“Sunday football, you screamed at the Giant’s game because you don’t know the difference between football and rugby rules.” M.M. chimed in again.
“Oui, and there was the time the barista gave me the wrong order, and you did not shut up about it for the rest of the day. All because you did not get your plain black coffee!” Frenchie chimed in, nodding along as Kimiko began signing her own story.
“Alright, alright, you're all ganging up on me,” Butcher put his hands up, grumbling in defeat. “I still don’t see how that explains her avoiding me. You all have learned to live with me, and see past the rough to the diamond.”
Hughie nodded slowly, and let out another sigh. “I guess I haven’t told you the whole story, regarding May. Granted, it isn’t really mine to tell, but I doubt she’ll tell you on her own.” Another sigh for dramatic effect, Butcher thought.
“She was abused.”
“So was everyone here, Hughie.” He put his hand up to stop Hughie and M.M. from interjecting, “You know what I mean. We’ve had it rough. We’ve survived."
“Well, her ‘having it rough’ was from her dad. All I know is he was a drinker, and he would beat her, and her mother. So bad her mother died.”
“Don’t mean shit, Daddy issues are par for the course, far as I’m concerned. Hell, seems like a goddamn requirement at this point. Just ‘cause I might occasionally raise my voice or get a bit passionate about things don’t mean I’m anythin’ like her old man.”
“Well, that’s not the way she sees it. She’s just protecting you, Butcher-”
“The fuck you mean ‘protecting’ me?” Butcher snapped. “The fuck do I need protecting from?”
Frenchie gave a whistle, drawing their attention, giving a quick nod of his head for them to look. In the doorway of the bathroom May sat, hunched over, eyes glimmering in the shadows. Her gaze wasn’t menacing, just steadily locked onto Butcher. With her ears forward and unwavering stare, Butcher felt the barest hint of a shiver run down his spine.
“You forget Butcher, she’s not just a dog.” Hughie said lowly, and the unspoken meaning was there.
A Supe. Enhanced. Capable of tearing him apart without a second thought.
Butcher met her gaze and thought for a minute. About his own childhood, his own piece of shit father.
Maybe he should take a different approach, but he couldn’t get over the disrespect. A plan began to form in his mind as he finally broke her stare, throwing his hands up and falling onto the couch.
“I vote Chinese.” He huffed, giving up on the fight.
For now.