Chapter Text
The air reeks of greasy junk food, perfume, blood and sweat; level 13 is a part of Vought Homelander has never seen before. He's heard it whispered about by other supes until today none of those rumours surrounding the level were of any interest to him.
Madelyn had arrived at work with hair dripping wet from the rain; cheeks flushed pink from the cold. He had been waiting, how had Black Noir described it "Like a puppy waiting for its owner to get home," for her. He had resented the description despite its accuracy.
She barely looked at him, too much of hurry and it made his stomach ache that she was too busy for him.
He spied on her in her office, listening to phone call after a phone call with her voice fake and cheery then to genuine excitement which piqued his interest.
"Level thirteen, in an hour and make sure she's conscious," her eyes sparkled with feverish delight as she bit down on her bottom lip. He wishes he had a video of that moment.
Homelander had to know what had made her look like that.
First, he tried spying through the walls to gain some sort of glance into level thirteen only to find he couldn't. Vought must have guessed he'd get curious sooner or later and lined it with zinc. The desire to know what she's doing took over his common sense; he's amazed at how easily the guards let him through when he told them "Stillwell wants to see me".
Homelander doesn't like this place; it feels wrong in a way he can't explain. Not being able to use his x-ray vision makes him uncomfortable.
But his super hearing is more sensitive. Whispers and whimpers sound like screams, but drowns them out and focuses on the one voice he wants to hear.
"All of this can be over once you have told me who you told Cleo," Madelyn's soft and calm voice hits his ears. "Vought doesn't like doing this to you. I hate it, your one of my heroes and I've put a lot of time and effort into you. It's why I don't understand why you would betray and threaten me,"
"When I get free I will kill you, you fucking bitch," Cleo hisses, yet Homelander can hear the fear in her voice. He wishes he could see what was going on.
Madelyn let's out a sigh, the disappointed one that makes him feel like a nest of cobras are moving around his stomach.
"I'm sorry you still feel that way,"
Cleo lets out an agonized scream and Homelander knows he should feel sympathy for her after all, she's like him, but instead, he's fascinated by what Vought has created to cause her pain; how they got someone who should be untouchable to scream like her body is being torn to pieces.
He knows when the screaming stop and hears Madelyn walking closer to the door he should walk away. It would be the smart thing to do, but he needs explanations, and he needs for Madelyn to give them.
If she's shocked that he's there her face doesn't show it. Instead, she seems slightly amused as he peers over her shoulder to see a bleeding Cleo.
"We'll talk in my office. You had lunch yet?"