Homelander and Erasmus sat next to each other on the edge of the estate roof, their feet dangling in the air. The atmosphere between them was extremely awkward as they both sat in silence.
Erasmus was waiting for Homelander to start, while Homelander didn't actually know what to say; all these years, everyone had kept telling his son that his father will one day come to kill him.
"I'm sorry," Erasmus began, hoping to make it easier for his father.
Homelander turned his head surprised but he put on his best smile. "What are you sorry for, buddy?"
"For hitting you earlier," Erasmus said, refusing to meet his father's eyes.
Hoemlander looked at his his son witheyes filled with joy "No, no, that's okay. I mean, it's not okay to hit your father, but you didn't... well, you did know I was your dad, but I felt you were holding back a lot. So that's something?"
"Vogelbaum told me to," Erasmus began. Vogelbaum was a puddle under their feet; Erasmus could speak with the dead man's mouth since he couldn't deny anything.
"Told you what?" Homelander asked, his smile faltering. He could only wonder what more horror stories that old bastard had filled his son's head with all those years.
"That I'm dangerous. He said if I didn't hold back, I would end up like you, a monster that everyone fears but no one loves. I don't actually care about people, but I did care about Vogelbaum, and Oliver, and Marco, and the estate staff... and my puppies."
"Don't listen to Vogelbaum," Homelander said, placing his hand gently on his son's golden hair. "He lied to you, to me, to us. He separated us from each other all these years. Why? Because he wanted to use you. You think he loved you? He locked you away! But when you come with me to the Tower, buddy, I will make it up to you. I swear it."
"Actually, he always told me that when his time comes, I should fly north," Erasmus said. "He was scared Vought would find out about me and control me. He told me to fly north and never stop."
Homelander froze. He stared at the boy. "He told you that? That Vought doesn't know?"
"Yes. And Dad... can I tell you something?"
Homelander was shocked and elated. He called him Dad. Erasmus was confiding in him!
"Of course, you can tell me anything."
"I don't want to go to the Tower. I'm scared. He told me a lot of bad things about it, how they will place me in labs and run tests."
This was the end play.
Erasmus absolutely could not set foot near Vought Tower without a guarantee. There was something called a paternity test; basically, they take blood from the father and match it with the son to make sure there is a match.
If Homelander went back today day with his "new son," Vought would run every human test possible. Erasmus couldn't have that, so this was his only move. Besides, he was pretty sure that even if they told Homelander the boy wasn't his, Homelander wouldn't believe them, but he wasn't willing to risk it.
"They aren't going to touch you," Homelander said, his voice dropping to a flat, deadly promise. "No labs. No tests. No one is putting a needle in you, Erasmus. I won't allow it."
Erasmus nodded slowly. "Promise?"
"I promise," Homelander said. He reached out and placed his other hand on the boy's shoulder. "If anyone even suggests it, I'll laser them where they stand. You're my son. My blood. That's the only test the world needs."
After that, the silence returned, but this time it was a comfortable silence.
"Erasmus," Homelander muttered.
"Yes?"
"Oh, I was just repeating the name. It feels... strange."
"Oh." Erasmus saw right through him. Homelander wanted to rename him, but calling him "Dad" and allowing him to rename him in one conversation? That was too easy.
"So, you have all my powers?" Homelander finally asked, posing the most important question to him.
"Yes. But the only difference is the laser eyes. Mine are purple; yours are red."
Homelander's smiled. "Purple? Show me."
Without answering, Erasmus focused his eyes. Two thick beams of violet-white light shot up into the sky before cutting off.
"Wow," Homelander breathed. "That was... amazing.
"I would have preferred if they were red like yours," Erasmus said.
"Really?" Homelander asked, puffing out his chest.
"Yes."
"I think yours are also good," Homelander said. "Do you want to go for a fly? Me and you?"
Homelander froze. Those three words, I can't fly, sounded to his scarred mind exactly like the words the Leviathan had used to mock him on the roof and before dragging him into the sea: I still haven't learned how to fly.
Erasmus realized his mistake a bit late; he should have worded it better.
"You can't fly?"
"I can, but I wasn't allowed to fly. I can go up or down, but I can't fly seamlessly like you." Erasmus corrected pitting an extra blame on the puddle of blood under them
"That bastard. I should have kept him alive just to crush every bone in his body." Then, Homelander remembered something and asked, "By the way, where is your mom? Where's Becca?"
Erasmus stared at him genuinely. For the second time in his life, he felt confused and outplayed.
Who is this Becca?
Oh, come on. It was perfect.