A/N: I'm gonna be completely honest, post Season 4, I completely lost any interest in the show and this fanfic by extension. I don't know why but I just found it so tiring and tedious to watch. I couldn't even find it in me to be excited for the final season, I thought at best it would be mid but nothing interesting enough to get me back into writing this.
I was wrong,
Season 5 pissed me off. It doesn't even feel like a finale; Homelander's scorched earth was a just a scratched room and for some reason the writers were too scared to have the guy commit mass murder like the story has been building up towards. He killed more people in his imagination, with that protesting crowd than he did in reality for the finale and the power scaling was so atrocious that I felt like I owed Invincible an apology.
The most ironic part was how they kept Vought and the Supes around even though we've been told constantly how evil and corrupt they are. The system that put Homelander in power is allowed to continue so that we can have more Spin-offs, because it's okay to mock Marvel for doing it but when you turn around do it, we're just supposed to accept it and clap out hands.
So, here's your damn chapter because if they can't give me the scorched earth that was promised, then I'll have to do it myself.
*****
An explosion rang out as I accelerated my speed and existed Earth's orbit as the blue skies quickly shifted into a black abyss, in an instant my blonde hair and American themed cape stopped wildly dancing about with the wind and a feeling of weightlessness emerged from my body.
I had first done it as an experiment. I wanted to test all sorts of things, how quickly I could enter and exist Earth's atmosphere, how long I could hold my breath and the power behind my re-entry.
Lately I've found myself coming up here more often.
It was the silence that appealed to me, having super hearing sometimes felt more like a disability than a superpower, regard less of how useful it was and being Headquartered in one of the busiest cities in the world was… torturous to say the least. Every day I went to sleep and woke up to the screams, cries, laughter and moans of an entire city while the sound of boots stomping across pavements and humming of engines served as a backdrop. Just the thought that experience alone made me want to skip the foreplay and just destroy the world instead of conquering it.
Being up here, was surprisingly therapeutic for me. I get to think and centre my thoughts without a constant siren drilling a hole in the back off my head. Sometimes while I'm up here, I'd closed my eyes and let my flight go, achieving complete sensory deprivation.
It was so peaceful.
The Justice League had a watchtower in space and if I remember correctly, in the comics the Seven had something similar. I definitely needed to invest in a watchtower of my own once I wrap up my world conquest, not only would it be an excellent showing of my authority over the common masses but having my seat of power be separated from the human population would be good for my long term sanity (Cause there was no way in hell I was going to rule the world from New York of all places)
Besides, I'd want to wake up to the breathtaking view below me, that sentiment would never chance no matter how many times I saw it, amidst the vast darkness there was a blue sapphire teeming with diverse life that continued to spin unbothered as if in defiance of the cold emptiness and if I reached out my hand and angled it, that blue gem looked so small that I felt like I could grab it.
'Hello world.'
….
'How are you today?'
….
'Still as beautiful as ever, I see.'
….
'The reason I came up here was because I wanted to apologize.'
….
'The coming years will be rough for you and I'm not about to pull my punches, but I ask that you don't feel too sorry for those insects crawling all over you. Can you imagine how ridiculous it is, to create superpowers and trivialize them down to something as mundane as commercial marketing as if they don't have the potential to achieve great things.'
….
'In a society that praises them so much as infallible icons and bows to their every whim it's only inevitable that concepts such as Supe Supremacy would begin to develop and from there one can already guess what's bound to happen when a group is told that they are superior to the rest. My point is that what I plan on doing is the inevitable consequence of society's shortcomings, so long as things are the way they are than there will always be another me, another propped up idiot ready to push things to the extreme, a Supe to rule over the perceived inferiors. If I don't do it than another ego driven manic will rise in a generation or so because he was told how important he is by society and that maniac will steal the privilege of World Domination from me and that is frankly unacceptable.'
….
'So please bear with me because at the end of it, I can finally call you mine and as sorry I'll fix up your scars and make you into something glorious.'
….
'I knew you'd understand, you've survived worse after all.'
After practising my megalomanic speech to justify taking over the world I began my descent back to the world.
My powers didn't make sense to me; I had first noticed it when I flew down to earth at my top speed and my costume didn't burn up upon re-entry, hell it wasn't even singed. I knew that this suit had be made to withstand harsh elements, but not to this extent and that baffled me to the point I started considering that maybe I had additional powers I just wasn't aware of or that my arrival to this universe changed things to the point of a having a completely different powerset.
But then I realized that I was looking at things the wrong way.
What if, instead of flight, I possessed tactile Telekinesis? What if this wasn't a consequence of my presence but rather a power that had always been there?
Thinking back to the series, there had been something that had always bothered me. I died after season 4 so I don't know if it was answered in the next season, but did the show ever give an answer as to why Neuman couldn't kill Homelander?
Victoria Neuman was a blood bender on steroids; she could explode a human head from a distance and turn someone into her sock puppet if she really wanted to yet even, she was wary of the original me in the show. I always found it hard to believe that not once did she never try to pop the original's head even after being strongarmed into pushing his agenda and having her identity as a Supe exposed. She could give me a heart attack or stop the blood flowing to my brain.
Neuman was disgustingly spoiled for choice when all she required was middle school level knowledge of biology to kill a man, and yet she didn't.
But you know what? I think she did try, I think she tried to pop his head only for it to fail, that's why she played along to his whims. I think it failed because there was a barrier covering the original's body that protected him.
I had to constantly remind myself that despite imitating Superheroes from both Marvel and DC, the Supes of this universe lacked creativity when compared to them, partly because there is no challenge in their daily lives here and the fact that Vought had no interest in really cultivating such abilities beyond marketing them to the public.
Vought saw me levitating in the air as a child and said I had flight. They had no interest in really understanding it and to them the distinction between Tactile Telekinesis (If they even understood the concept) and ordinary flight was meaningless.
If I fly, then I fly.
It won't matter to the children watching my movies or reading my comics, but it will matter to me because with enough creativity I could take that meaningless distinction and make it into a gamechanger.
*****
Madelyn tried to look as small as possible when she entered my penthouse, her steps were slow, almost hesitant and she kept her head lowered clearly trying to avoid looking at me.
"He called you." She whispered out, knowing my hearing would pick it up. She didn't need to clarify who she was talking about, we both knew. I saw him the moment he entered the tower, how he gave the few people still left in the tower that same disarming smile, from the night shift security guards, the interns working over overnight and even the janitors. I saw him as he made his way to the meeting room and sit his old ass on my seat at the head of the table as that smile of his morphed into a deep frown.
The only man brave enough to call me to him, Stan Edgar was back.
I knew what was coming, that was why I stood ready. Madelyn practically jumped out of her skin when she entered my apartment only to find me waiting not even a few steps away, my arms behind my back and eager smile on my lips, "Oh, I know."
As we made our way to the meeting room, I noticed how Madelyn walked behind me at a distance far enough to be deemed respectable but not so far as to look like she was trying to get away from me even though I knew that's exactly what she wanted.
In the corner of my eyes, I could notice her giving me glances every so often, but she looked away whenever I shifted my head in her direction.
"Relax Madelyn, Christ, this much stress won't be good for the baby." I suppressed a chuckle when she stiffened at the mention of her baby. I could tell she took that as a subtle threat, despite what I told her she probably still thought I'm mad about her being pregnant.
"Sorry," She muttered as she tried her best to smile at me, but it just came across as forced to me, most likely thinking the same she just dropped it and kept her head down.
"So have you thought of any names?" She gave me a confused stare at the question.
Despite what she may think, I would never kill Madelyn, her job forced to be in constant proximity with the thing she was scared of most and once I established that I wanted nothing to do with her outside of a professional relationship, a new dynamic was created between us.
I just loved putting her off guard like this, the teasing and subtle threats were completely empty, it was nothing more than a game where I get to see her always walking on eggshells only for me to shift the tempo of our conversations whenever she started getting too comfortable. It was the glimpses of compassion and empathy that always threw her for a loop, she expected the worst from me and when I refused to give it to her, she'd start to relax, right before I found some other way to mess with her.
"I-I haven't really thought of any. I've just been so busy." A nervous laugh echoed out.
I hummed in acceptance and kept quiet for minute before looking back at her, "I think Theodore is a good name if it's a boy"
There it was, I could see the gears in her mind turning. She didn't know whether that was a harmless suggestion throw out to make small talk or whether I was actually telling her to name her child Theodore if it was a boy and that was eating her up inside.
"Anyway, we're here," I said as we reached the massive blast doors that lead to the meeting room, in front of the door were statues of the seven made of marble.
Putting on my most charming smile, I entered first with Madelyn falling in step.
*****
"You kept the boy from me," I wagged my finger at the sitting man, a gesture he clearly didn't appreciate judging from the glare he gave me.
Vought could ignore and tolerate a lot of bullshit from its Supes, but that's only because Supes were absurdly profitable and the ones who felt the impact of their reckless actions were always other people.
Killing Ryan was a personal attack that directly threatened the company so it couldn't be ignored, in fact I fully expected Madelyn to say something the day I returned after disposing of Ryan's body but besides the few anxious looks she sometimes gave me, she kept quiet.
That's when I realised that matter had been expedited to someone much higher up on the corporate ladder than Madelyn. Vought had placed it's hopes on the only man left who could rein in the child killing Supe, the hero of this story was none other than the Billionaire CEO, Stan Edgar.
"We didn't keep the boy from you," Stan said in a statement so audacious it drew a laugh from me.
"You spent God knows how much on a fake suburban neighbourhood while hiding the fact that I could produce a child. You helped Becca deliver the little shit and I had to threaten the information out of Vogelbaum of people only for you to sit there saying you didn't hide him from me in what must be the most uncreative lie of your entire career." I was getting frustrated near the end of my long rant as I all but growled my last words.
It wasn't my fault damn it. These memories, they came with emotions that sometimes conflicted with what I actually felt. There was a dissonance in my identity as John and who I was before, and the results were moments of bipolarism and contradictions.
Just thinking about Ryan brought out a well of unnecessary emotion ranging from sadness to satisfaction and then to anger.
Madelyn took an unsubtle step away from me, which only served to attract my attention.
"Don't think you're excluded from this."
She took a sharp breath yet otherwise remained quiet.
"We didn't hide the boy from you," Stan Edgar repeated as he leaned into my chair, "He was a biological miracle, an impossibility. A natural-born Supe with compound V flowing through his blood. We did want to tell you, the expectation was that he would inherit your powers, so we thought you'd be best suited to raise him not just as a father but as a teacher."
I changed my mind. This wasn't Stan Edgar's most uncreative lie. No, this was going to be his best one yet. I felt amazed as I listened on. Was this bastard really going to find a way to talk himself out of this one?
"Your upbringing was unpleasant to say the least and I'm sure you'll agree with the sentiment that no one else deserved to be raised like that, Ryan would have been our second chance, a redemption for Vought in how we treated you, a way to show we've learned from our mistakes and with you at the head, I strongly believe we could have made Ryan into something great."
It was like watching an artist prepare a masterpiece in front of your very eyes. You couldn't see where it was going, but as time progressed, you began to see what the artist had envisioned as the masterpiece neared completion. The way he brought up my childhood to get me emotionally vulnerable, the way he draws parallels with Ryan and me.
I was stumped. How can one person be so good yet so shameless?
"You not being told about the pregnancy was Becca's personal request. She threatened to publicise your whole affair, claiming that she wasn't of sound mind when she spent that night with you. It was an outlandish accusation, of course, but it certainly wouldn't have been good for your image and that of the company as a whole, so we reluctantly acquiesced. Had Ryan begun to show signs of having powers, we would have included you in this matter as previously stated. If he had not developed powers we planned on sweeping this matter under the rug much like we had done for all of our Supes with secret children."
The way he tossed the dead woman who couldn't defend herself under the bus, the way he tried to appease my ego by saying that Becca was lying when she said I assaulted her. How does he make it seem like he was doing me a favour by keeping quiet?
I could hear Madelyn's heartbeat begin to slow down. She wasn't scared anymore. The all-consuming terror was slowly vanishing and, in its place, was growing relief. She had spent the last few minutes listening to this man genuinely turn this around into something resembling a win, and I could tell she thought they were going to get away with it.
In fact, he also thought he was going to get away with it as well, the self-assured smile as he twiddled his thumbs while he waited for my response and the steady heart rate confirmed something that I already knew but had only just understood the gravity of what it really meant.
Stan Edgar wasn't afraid of me.
And because he wasn't afraid of me, he could approach these situations with a calm and rational mind that the others couldn't. They walked on eggshells around me, and that gave me leverage in our interactions, I had grown used to dictating the tempo of conversations with everyone at Vought except when talking with Edgar.
Whereas Madelyn sought to placate me as a mother would, Edgar wasn't like that. He looked down on me and approached dealing with me was no different from a journalist or an employee. He looked at me as a lesser.
He wasn't afraid of me. Therefore, he could take risks in saying things no one else would.
He wasn't afraid of me, and that made him a good manipulator.
He wasn't afraid of me, and that reaffirmed why I had to kill him, more than any Canon knowledge. This conversation made me certain.
Did I feel threatened by this?
It didn't take me long to arrive at an answer. Yes, and for once, both sides of me agreed.
With a scheming mind such as his, he was frankly too good at what he did that it'd be negligent on my part to leave him around me or in a position of power.
Because I knew that I could never get his obedience.
His compliance, maybe. If I pushed the right buttons, threatening Victoria Neuman and her daughter. I could maybe get him to go along with my games, but I'd always need to sleep with my eyes open, lest this snake take advantage of any perceived weakness.
The only thing that alleviated my souring mood was the knowledge that if it had been my original self, if it had been the weaker version of myself, then Stan could have walked out of this room, he could have convinced the stupid bastard.
I didn't bother with words as my eyes flashed red before the two humans in the room could comprehend it, and beams of plasma shot out, heading straight for the seated man.
The smell of burnt flesh hit me the strongest before the beams of crimson had even finished penetrating the man's skull, and before Madelyn could even blink, there was a dead body perched up against the chair, charred and smoking.
I slowly turned and gave the frozen woman a pleading look, "Please don't scr -"
I didn't even get the chance to finish my sentence before my ears were assaulted by a shriek that echoed through the entire room, causing me to sigh silently and begin massaging my temple.
"Of fucking course."
Madelyn collapsed to the ground like a sack of potatoes and continued screaming as she stared wide-eyed at Stan Edgar's corpse. She pointed a finger at the man before turning her head to look up at me with frantic eyes.
"Yes, I also see the dead body, I'm the one who made it after all," I remarked sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes when she began crawling backwards while on her rear, grimacing when I smelt the stench of urine and turned to look down at the trail of liquid leading to the crawling woman.
The woman continued crawling backwards, but I was admittedly fascinated by how she kept her eyes on me at all times. I've heard about how cornered prey refused to look away from the danger as their fight-or-flight response kicked in.
It was pretty neat.
But still, I can't have her running through the halls, smelling of piss, screaming her lungs out about how I killed a man.
That couldn't be good for the baby.
So I casually strolled over to the wall of screens to the side. Madelyn was, unfortunately, far too slow, which gave me a chance to mess around with the controls and activate the lockdown sequence just as she reached the doors.
"Are you done?" I asked her as I walked over to my chair and gave Edgar's body a light shove that sent it tumbling down. Falling back into my seat, I let out a content sigh as I felt my body loosen.
Damn, these chairs were comfortable.
"Y-You." Those were the only words she could muster before she broke out into what sounded like a mix of sobbing and laughing.
That hope Madelyn had when Edgar started talking had moved to the opposite end of the spectrum, turning into pure dread. Her face was red, snot and tears burst out unrestrained only to intermingle near her chin into a disgusting mixture.
I could see it in her eyes, those mirrors into her soul that reflected the feelings of defeat and sheer emptiness that laid within.
She genuinely thought she was going to die.
The outsider in me wanted to scoff. How did these people think this was going to go? You don't raise a child the way they did and expect it to turn out normal, let alone raising the strongest Supe.
Adults rarely realise it, but children can be the most petty and spiteful creatures on earth. They don't have the maturity to let things go or overlook slights, and they also have a good enough memory to remember every bad thing said and done to them.
The boy in me wanted to scream. How dare they!? I'm Vought's child, their mistake. When I descend from the heavens bringing nothing but misery in my wake, they will look up and ask themselves, 'How could this have happened?'
As if they don't already know.
Sometimes, when I think of Ryan, I get unreasonably angry. There's this hatred deep within that burns so strongly that it suppresses the sorrowful emotions of the father in me.
It came from the boy who liked to clench his soft blue blanket for security, the elder child who was abused by his parent and now has to watch that same parent raise their second child with the care and consideration he never got.
Ryan was that second child, and the boy was a wrathful, envious thing. He refused to allow Ryan to live the life he never got.
Because the boy is a child and, like all children, he lacks maturity, retaining only the capability to be petty and spiteful.
"Stand up," I ordered Madelyn, managing to banish the dark thoughts and bring myself back to reality. "You're ruining my floor."
She was like a doll. There was no thought behind those eyes. The way she moved at my order felt so animated to the point that I was reluctantly forced to entertain the thought that she had completely given up on life. Even when she stared at me, there was no fear in her eyes, just hollow acceptance.
Wow, okay, I did not expect this, but oh well.
"Two things, " I raised two fingers to a still unresponsive Madelyn. "Firstly, you need to call clean-up. Get them here as fast as possible and make sure their discrete when handling this."
It was important to note that this was a version of Vought before my original self took over. This company doesn't yet have to deal with me killing anyone for any minor inconvenience like in the show, so this will no doubt shake things. I definitely needed to find an excuse to give as to why the CEO dropped dead in his own building and why his head was cooked from what could be nothing less than a laser beam.
I will admit that I certainly jumped the gun in killing Stan. This wasn't how I wanted to do things, but the way I see it, the risk of being accused of murder was more acceptable than allowing him to live, let alone hold his position.
He wasn't scared of me, and that still freaked me out.
"Secondly..." I trailed off, looking down at the dead body at my feet before looking back at a dead-eyed Madelyn. "How do you feel about a promotion?"
Signs of life returned to her, however faint it was, as she stared at me confused, "What?"
"How do you feel about a promotion?" I repeated, giving her a smile that showed all my teeth.
Signs of life disappeared as Madelyn Stillwell sank to the floor once again and let out a trail of haunted laughs, tears once again falling freely.
That can't be good for the baby.