Chapter Text
Rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, Critter smiled to herself as the elevator climbed up the dozens of stories in the Vought Tower. She had submitted an audition tape for The Seven after her dads insistence that she try out, and when six months had come and gone, she figured nothing would ever come of it. That was, of course, until her phone began to ring from an unknown caller early one Monday morning. Since then, she had been tossed around from meeting to meeting as various Vought employees talked her ear off about logistical stuff she couldn’t understand.
But this time was different. This time, Ashley had told Critter that Homelander himself personally wanted to meet with her, and that she was to meet him in The Seven’s meeting room for a final initiation.
Critter had been ecstatic since receiving the news. She always saw Homelander shining on the television or being shared around social media; he was a hard personality to escape. Although she had begun to feel a little put off by his more recent exploits, it didn’t dampen the childlike excitement dancing inside of her.
Finally, the elevator grinds to a halt, and the metal doors slide open in front of her. She takes a deep breath before stepping through the threshold, and quickly begins walking down the hallway towards the meeting room before her nerves can get the better of her.
She stops in front of the giant sliding doors she had been told about, glancing around awkwardly as she tries to pinpoint a way to open it. Suddenly, a metal click sounds, and the doors part for her, revealing the shining figure of Homelander across the room. His back is turned to her until she walks in, and when he turns around, a smile is already adorning his face.
“Ah, Critter!” He exclaimed as if he were meeting an old friend. “You’re right on time.”
“It’s really great to meet you, Homelander, sir,” Critter responds with an even bigger grin. “It’s a big honor to be standing here in The Seven’s meeting room with you!”
Homelander chuckles as he strolls across the room towards her, his hands folded neatly behind his back.
“The pleasure is all mine, Critter,” he hums. “I must say, I was pretty impressed by your audition tape; we haven’t had someone like you in The Seven before.”
Critter shuffles her feet self-consciously and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Thank you, sir, that means a lot.”
He continues to walk slowly and deliberately towards her. The closer he gets, the clearer it becomes that the smile pinching his cheeks isn’t quite meeting his eyes. “I just had a few questions and concerns,” he continues. “The Seven’s reputation is my reputation after all. So you understand why I can’t invite someone to join only for them to be killed on the job two weeks later. How would that make me look?”
Critter goes still. Their blue eyes meet as he continues to close in on her. She has to force herself not to retreat and appear weaker than he already seems to think she is, but he can hear her heartbeat picking up, and his smile tightens and twists.
“S-Sure, I understand, sir. What, uh, were your questions?”
He finally stops about a foot away from her. His smile looks molded into his face as if he were a Ken doll. “Good. Well, my first question was, what would happen… if I were to do this?” In a flash, he launched himself off the ground and flew at her, hand outstretched and aiming to grab her by the throat. Critter yelps, disappearing beneath him just before he makes contact with her. He stops before he hits the wall and glances down as Critter’s clothes slide off of his body. He turns around to see a cat standing on the other side of the room, back arched and eyes huge. Homelander’s mouth tightens into a frown before he quickly turns it back into a thin-lipped grin.
“Okay,” he says slowly, as if contemplating his next move. “Decent reflexes… How about-” his eyes ignite a scarlet red; she pounces away in time, the place where she was standing less than a second before charred black in her absence. He flies after her, leaving a scorched trail in her path as she jumps from mouse, to hawk, to iguana. Critter’s heart pounds in her chest. She doesn’t dare to risk glancing behind her shoulder, too intent on keeping ahead of the lasers singeing the tip of her tail.
I don’t understand, what kind of test is this!? Her thoughts whirl as her rabbit legs kick off of a pillar and launch her sharply to the right, the fur on her feet wilting from the heat of his stare. Why isn’t he stopping? What the hell does he expect me to do?
Homelander grunts in aggravation as he swivels his head. Critter can tell that his repeated misses are starting to piss him off, but she can’t allow herself to get hurt just to please his ego. Even if his laser eyes didn’t kill her, she’d probably wish that it had. She glances to her right and spots her crumpled up pile of clothes. The sleeve of her shirt had been completely burned off, but luckily the fire hadn’t spread too much to the rest of her outfit. She risks glancing behind her, and her body bristles in terror at the look of hot rage on his face. He had invited her here, why was he looking at her like that? Had he intended to kill her from the start?
It was clear he wasn’t the ‘talk it out’ sort of guy, but Critter couldn’t think of anything else she could do. The Vought meeting room was starting to look like a tic-tac-toe board, and her adrenaline wouldn’t be enough to keep her moving for much longer. Clenching her teeth, she musters up the last of her strength and turns into a hummingbird, darting backward in between his legs, then sweeping around to her clothes as fast as her wings can carry her.
Critter turns back into a human and crouches to the floor, one arm shielding her breast, the other held out to Homelander pleadingly.
“Mister ‘The Homelander’ sir, please, stop for just a second!” she pants. Her body is drenched with sweat from the sudden exhilaration, her skin flushed red and her hair bushing up wildly. “I-I-I’m sure you have a-a lot of concerns and expectations. I-I understand how important The Seven is, a-and the pressure that must be on your shoulders as their leader.” He stares at her silently, his face set as if it were carved of stone, his eyes still glowing ominously.
“I know what a busy man you are, sir,” she continues cautiously. “You’ve got the whole nation of America to look out for, s-so I’m sure you’re very skeptical of the help that you hire. But, Homelander, I swear to you, I would not have auditioned for The Seven if I didn’t think I had what it took. I respect you too much to waste your time, a-and I swear that if you give me a chance to prove myself to you, you won’t be disappointed.”
“You talk too fucking much,” he growls. She bites her lip meekly, concerned that her placating only made him angrier. After several tense seconds, his eyes began to lose their glow, chilling into his regular blue.
“That’s fair, I can work on that,” she says quietly, finally lowering her hand to steady herself as she crouches across from him. Before, her face had been red from the sudden rush of adrenaline, but now she was blushing from her lack of coverage.
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish for several seconds as she debated whether she should say anything else. Finally, she managed to choke out, “C-Could I put my clothes back on?”
Homelander stares at her for a moment, his eyes lazily and shamelessly trailing down her body before he turns away, waving his hand as if shooing a fly. “Go ahead,” he grumbles.
She quickly snatches up her shirt and pulls it over her body. It sags awkwardly from the new hole burnt into it, and the charred edges of the fabric scratch uncomfortably against her skin. Ignoring the discomfort, she slides on her underwear and skort as well, jumping to her feet as soon as she's redressed. Her heart rate had begun to settle, but it was obvious from her fidgeting hands and stiff demeanor that she was still nervous.
Critter watched him warily as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tightly as he pondered their situation.
"Fine," Homelander sighs, his hand dropping to his side. "Fine, Critter," he slurs her name mockingly. "Since you're so confident that your little circus act is worth a flying fuck... One chance." He holds up his finger, sauntering towards her once again. There's no longer any attempt to put up a front of kindness or civility, and somehow, the honesty of his hostility makes her feel safer than his false smile had. "That's all you get. And, if you disappoint me, then you'll wish you had just laid down and died like the dog you are. Do you understand me?"
He's much closer than he had been before. His blue eyes glitter coldly, and the dark of his pupils still hold a hint of red, like she were looking at a photo of him that was taken with the flash on. Despite every atom in her body begging her to be quiet and composed, she can't wipe the giddy smile off of her face, her hands trembling happily at her sides.
"Loud and clear, Homelander, sir!" Critter beams. Homelander looks a bit taken aback, having clearly not expected her to be persistently happy. "Thank you so much for this opportunity. I know I'm going to make you proud!" She throws her arms open for a hug, then quickly thinks better of it. Hovering awkwardly, she stalls for a second, then pats his bicep. "Sorry, I don't know-"
"Just get out."
"Alrighty," she spins on her heel and jogs out the door. She pauses as the doors begin to slide shut behind her, turning around to cast another glowing grin at Homelander. "See you tomorrow morning, sir!" she calls with a wave as the doors shut.
Homelander stands still for a moment. He continues to watch Critter trot down the hallway and jump into the elevator with his x-ray vision. She has a smile on her face the whole way, and when the elevator doors close, she pumps her fist in the air victoriously. He scoffs and turns, meandering back to the window to resume staring down at all the little people below.
…Why did he agree to her joining? Her powers were that of a C-lister, not one befitting The Seven. And her personality, the way that she talked to him with such familiarity, was so incredibly grating. Not to mention she led him on that stupid goose chase, probably just to make a fool out of him. However, despite all of the fear and the embarrassment pulsing off of her, at no point did she ever seem… insincere. All of her placating and her rambling had been genuine.
It reminded him of the snot-nosed children he met at signings. They always looked up at him with big doe-eyes, like he was Santa tucking presents underneath their tree on Christmas Eve. They asked him stupid, pointless questions, like what his favorite flavor of ice cream was, or if he liked dogs or cats more.
Her blind jubilation despite his obvious resentment of her rubbed him the wrong way. That's not how the adults in his life had ever acted around him. The yes-mans that followed him with their noses up his ass all nodded in blind agreement, whether praised or chastised, and their constantly thrumming hearts pounded in his head until it ached from the noise. If they weren't parroting everything he said, then they were arguing with one another, their inner ugliness revealed as they snapped at each other like rabid dogs.
Homelander caught sight of Critter exiting the building, nearly a hundred stories below him. Her short blonde curls bounced around her face as she walked down the sidewalk, a skip in her step as her form began to shrink with the horizon. He gritted his teeth, watching in silence until she had bounced out of view.