Chapter 20: Chapter 20
[3rd POV]
John took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
He squished his fingers together on the van's steering wheel as he drove down an incredibly long and boring road.
The van was shaking and creaking all the time.
This didn't even account for the fact that every part of this tin can feel like under the scorching sun.
He had to be careful with every move to avoid causing any damage to the van.
It would not have been hard for him to fly there and back several times in the time it took to drive.
Unfortunately, the physics of this world worked perfectly, and lifting the van and flying it to the destination wasn't an option if he wanted it to remain whole.
"Finally."
John sighed when seeing a wall and gates ahead large enough for the van and much larger vehicles to pass through.
He put his foot on the brake slowly and was careful not to break anything.
The window rolled down as one of the guards approached the door.
"Do I need to show my license?"
John smirked, removing his sunglasses.
"No need, Mr. Homelander."
The guard responded, signaling to open the gates.
"Go ahead."
"Thank you."
John nodded, driving inside.
The drive was short, given the limited area.
After a few minutes, he arrives at the house where Rebecca and Ryan come out with bags.
Rebecca looked less than thrilled about the sudden move while Ryan stared confusedly at the van his father had arrived in.
"Why so soon?"
Rebecca asked, her tone filled with doubt.
"It's because I already bought a house."
John smiled, stepping out of the van to help with the bags.
"I couldn't tell you beforehand because I suspect Edgar already knows where we're headed."
"Then what's the point?"
"Freedom from constant surveillance."
"That's a good point."
Rebecca sighed.
"Where are we going?"
Ryan asked as he climbed into the back seat.
Surprisingly, they didn't have much luggage, not even filling half of the cargo space.
"We're going to my... our country house."
John corrected himself when noticing Rebecca's surprised look.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She smiled.
"Okay then."
John nodded.
"Can you drive?"
"My license isn't valid."
Rebecca replied nonchalantly, settling into the front seat.
"Fine."
John sighed, taking his place in the driver's seat.
"What? You don't like driving?"
Rebecca asked and found his discomfort amusing.
"Let's be honest, it's an extremely inconvenient way of getting around for me."
John sighed again and headed towards the exit of what felt like a prison.
Rebecca tensed, expecting that they might not be allowed to leave.
Fortunately, the gates opened, and they were let out without incident.
The next two hours passed in silence until Rebecca stated that Ryan was indeed asleep.
"So, where exactly are we going?"
"A country house near New York. It's a perfect place to relax without any gawkers bothering us."
"You're planning to train him."
She stated rather than asked.
"You're very sharp."
John nodded, unsurprised by how easily she saw through his intentions.
"When?"
She asked, ready to accept the idea.
"In a couple of days, once he's settled in a bit."
"Is there no other way?"
"If there were, I'd take it. He needs to learn to control himself to avoid accidentally hurting you. That would devastate him. Trust me, I know what that's like."
John said grimly, gripping the steering wheel so tightly it creaked.
He wasn't thinking about that. He was thinking about the bad things that happened in his past.
He remembered the smile of a kind woman who decided to hug a fair-haired boy.
The boy couldn't restrain his strength for the huh. If only he had been just an observer in those memories... it might have been easier.
The boy's embrace became deadly for the woman, snapping her in half like a doll.
The boy's desperation turned into hysteria, and laser beams shot from his eyes, attempting to burn everything around him.
"John?"
Rebecca called out worriedly, touching his shoulder.
"You can't remain this... vulnerable."
He suddenly said, looking at her.
"What do you mean?"
Rebecca asked with concern.
"You need to become a superhuman."
"Is that even possible?"
Rebecca asked with doubt.
"Don't play dumb. You're much smarter than that."
John sighed.
"If something happens to you, Ryan will never forgive me... I'll never forgive myself. Because I took responsibility for you both, but ultimately... it's your choice."
"Thank you."
Rebecca said sincerely, taking a moment to consider John's words.
"I'll think about it."
The conversation was interrupted when Rebecca suddenly pulled a CD out of her bag.
She put it into the player with a smile from anticipation. Well, John had to admit that she had a beautiful voice.
But listening to "Spice Girls" for three hours straight required either nerves of steel or an enthusiastic fan of the group.
Unfortunately, John did not fall into the latter category, unlike Rebecca.
She danced energetically and constantly urged him to join in but found surprisingly easy to do.
John couldn't take his eyes off her, so alive, energetic, and incredibly sexy she was.
After escaping her forced captivity, Rebecca was finally able to feel free.
She eventually fell asleep, exhausted after two hours of activity.
John turned down the music's volume. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but there was something catchy about those songs.
"Here we are."
He sighed in relief, turning off the music. He could finally get out of this metal box.
"It's quite nice here."
Rebecca stretched, trying to shake off her sleepiness.
"I know. It needs some tidying up."
John responded somewhat bluntly.
"But inside, it's much cleaner and more organized."
"He's sleeping so sweetly, I almost don't want to wake him."
She said lovingly, looking at Ryan and nodding to acknowledge John's words.
"I'll carry him inside."
John nodded, carefully lifting the pretending-to-be-asleep child into his arms.
He carried Ryan into one of the three bedrooms in the house.
Rebecca went into the next room, where John brought her belongings.
John was already in the guest bedroom, a little farther away from the other two.
He scanned the house with his X-ray vision, looking for anything suspicious, such as a bug.
John's gaze landed on Rebecca, who was changing clothes, revealing a figure that hadn't changed over the years.
He acknowledged that it was despicable, but he couldn't help himself.
Rebecca finished changing and went downstairs to join John.
"You know, this place does have potential."
She said, glancing around.
"Yeah, it does."
John agreed, but his mind was still partly occupied with thoughts of Rebecca.
"So, what's the plan for tomorrow?"
She asked, trying to bring the conversation back to practical matters.
"We'll start settling in properly."
John replied.
"I'll make sure everything is secure, and we can go over some ground rules for safety."
"Sounds good."
Rebecca said, giving him a reassuring smile.
As the evening went, they gradually adjusted to their new surroundings.
There was a hint of hope in the air despite the stress and problems ahead.
....
Homelander looked at the camera with little enthusiasm, and his mind was occupied only with thoughts of how to end this quickly.
A quiet sigh escaped as he surveyed the house where the shoot occurred.
The clap of the slate signaled the start of filming, and a smile was already on his face.
"My grandfather built this house with his own hands. He was an amazing man,"
Homelander began while gesturing around the house. He then approached the piano standing in the back.
"Oh, the old piano! In the evenings, my mother would sit down and play us songs. Honestly, most of the time, my father and I were busy building model airplanes."
John looked at the table with a nostalgic sigh, where new model airplanes bought just yesterday were neatly arranged.
The paint... there was no smell of it at all.
"I can almost smell... the silver paint."
He said as he passed by, picking up a framed photo and looking at it sadly.
"It's a pity he didn't live to see me fly with the Blue Angels. He would have gone crazy."
"Here I am in the center."
He showed the camera a photo of some models hired for this photoshoot.
It made for a beautiful family.
"I love you, Mom and Dad."
"Cut! That's a wrap! Moving to the next location."
The director announced.
Homelander finally dropped the cheerful smile from his face, watching as the crew moved equipment to the next room.
The makeup artists touched up his makeup, and the shoot continued.
As they moved through different parts of the house, Homelander maintained the facade, recounting scripted memories and emotions, each scene carefully crafted to paint a picture of a wholesome, nostalgic past.
The whole process felt mechanical, and despite the convincing exterior, there was a hollow emptiness behind his eyes.
"And here we have the backyard, where I spent countless hours playing and dreaming about the future."
He said, stepping outside into the meticulously arranged yard.
"My father built that swing set for me. He always said it was important to have a place to unwind."
Again, the reality was far from the story being told. The swing set was installed only a week ago for this shoot.
"Action!"
The director called, snapping John out of his thoughts as the camera began to roll again.
"And this is my bedroom! My hall of fame. Nothing has changed here."
He pointed to the shelf where some awards were displayed and picked up another framed photo, showing it to the camera.
"And this is my team. Of course, I couldn't play to my full potential. But let's say we... often won."
He walked around the room, looking around.
"It's all so exciting... to return to my childhood home."
"Great. Cut."
The next filming took only an hour, and he had to tell a corny story about his mother who introduced him to baseball.
Of course, about the cake in the shape of a baseball field that she baked herself.
The marketing department outdid itself with clichés.
He was about to throw up by the end when he saw the cameras and the house itself.
It was no surprise that when everything was over, he immediately flew straight into the sky.
He took a big breath and closed his eyes to enjoy the flight.
After a few minutes, he was already near the Vought tower, where he entered, glancing at the filming crew outside.
Maeve waved at him, and he waved back before going in. Her shoot was happening there, and she was supposed to do an interview and showcase her humanity.
John exited the elevator and went to Madelyn's office, where she had asked one of her assistants to call him.
He entered without knocking and found her busy with documents. She looked up at him and sighed, putting the papers aside.
"Do you know why I called you, John?"
Madelyn finally asked.
"Let me guess. Is it about A-Train?"
John smiled, wrapping his cape around his arm to sit comfortably in the chair.
"Why did you think it was okay to lock someone up... like this?"
She said, somewhat uncertainly.
"He needed help."
John shrugged.
"Like Deep? John, Deep was given a therapist precisely to help him gain confidence. You can't just intervene in that process."
"He fell in love with a dolphin."
"What?"
Madelyn asked with bewilderment.
"While that therapist was "trying" to help him, he already fell in love with a dolphin, Madelyn."
John sighed.
"The intervention was needed, at the very least because he was about to kidnap it. If I hadn't stepped in..."
"I didn't know about that."
She frowned.
"It's because you've always been insensitive to their personal issues, Madelyn. You only care about ratings and PR. I understand it's your job, but sometimes you need to look at them not as gods but as people.
"What about you?"
"If necessary. Is that all?"
"We'll have to release A-Train."
Madelyn said, waiting for his reaction.
"No, you won't do that."
"It's illegal, John."
"It's the right thing to do, Madelyn."
"He's too significant a figure to keep him in the shadows at a time like this."
"Believe me, it'll be good for the company, or do you want a super-injured person? Or perhaps the fastest man in the world, dead from an overdose?"
"Alright, alright, you've won. That's all."
"Perfect."
John got up from the chair and left the office, immediately entering the elevator.
After a minute, he was on the lower floors of the building where various Compound V tests were being conducted.
There were also holding cells for different supers, including members of The Seven, except for one member—Homelander.
"How is the treatment progressing?"
He asked when entering the room where A-Train was held.
"So far, so good, sir."
The therapist replied who was now working with A-Train every day.
"Excellent, I'll check on him."
John smiled.
"Right now, Popclaw is with him."
They warned him.
"I know."
Homelander replied before passing through the security.
"Hello, Popclaw. Nice to finally meet you."
"Hello, Homelander."
The short-haired brunette replied hesitantly, a claw extending from her wrist.
"Reggie, how are you feeling?"
"Couldn't be better."
He replied glumly, sitting on the bed.
"I'm doing just fine. I'm ready to get out of here."
"I know you're ready, but you're still not fully recovered."
"Oh, come on! Shockwave will take my place by then!"
He said abruptly, getting almost face-to-face with him.
Homelander took advantage of this, pushing him in the chest and sending him crashing into the wall, knocking all the air out of him.
"God! Reggie!"
Popclaw cried out, rushing to him.
"If you can't even dodge a slow push like that, what are we even talking about?"
Homelander frowned, looking down at him.
"I... just didn't have time."
Reggie exhaled, sitting on the floor, not even trying to get up.
"And that says a lot."
Homelander snorted.
"If you can't handle such a small addiction, what does that say about your speed? The easy way isn't always the right one. In your case, it will be your downfall. I won't keep weak in The Seven and will likely replace you with Shockwave. Then... he will take your place."
With his final words, he turned and left the cell.
Homelander was already flying out of the tower a few minutes later, heading to his scheduled meeting.
[A/N: Pleave leave some honest review on the novel and each powerstone really do make difference to the fanfic.
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Abyssuit [A/N: Pleave leave some honest review on the novel and each powerstone really do make difference to the fanfic.
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