Peace of the Mind

Butcher blinked blearily, trying to force the grogginess away as he dug his fingers into the leaves and dirt, shoving himself on to his feet.

The first thing he noticed was the Nazi bint Stormfront nearby, little more than a mangled, charred corpse, muttering something in German.

"Mom, please, I'm sorry Mom, please hold on!" He could hear Ryan whimpering and his eyes snapped to the young boy, crouched next to Becca, his Becca. He could see the blood leaking from her neck as Ryan tried to hold it in.

Butcher crossed the small distance in a second, sliding in the dirt as he shoved Ryan aside. "Move, let me see her!" He ordered, feeling a thready pulse as he clamped his hand on the wound, trying in vain to stop the flow of blood.

"Oh God! Help her! Somebody help her!" Billy shouted, although he didn't know who he was shouting to, nobody was around, that was the entire reason they'd came this way through the woods, because it was supposed to be isolated.

"I'm sorry Mom, please don't die!" Ryan just inconsolable, just crying beside Becca.

"Don't- Don't be mad... Don't be mad at him, he's good... he's good." Becca whispered, but Butcher didn't want to hear it. His Becca was bleeding out in the middle of the woods, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

He felt her pulse slow beneath his hands, panic and shock overtaking him as he tried to beat on her chest, get her heart to keep going. "Don't do this Becca, don't die on me."

Any further words were cut short as the sound of crunching leaves alerted Butcher to someone behind him, and he spun around, trusty crowbar in hand, guarding both Ryan and Becca from the bloody form of Homelander. Butcher was too heartbroken to be angry at the moment.

"Ryan come here." Homelander ordered, but Butcher felt Ryan latch on to the back of his coat. "Ryan, come here now!"

"He's my son... MINE! Are you really going to try to take him? Are you really going to die defending the little monster that murdered your wife?" Homelander snarled, eyes flickering with molten rage.

"Looks like it." Butcher said, brandishing his crowbar threateningly. It wouldn't do much against Homelander, but Butcher wasn't about to let that stop him.

"Fine, have it your way!" Homelander said, approaching like a lion attacking a gazelle.

"Stop... leave them alone!" Queen Maeve tried to order as she limped into the clearing, one arm cradled gingerly across her stomach, her face tense with pain with every step. Unfortunately, given her appearance, Homelander didn't look deterred.

"Maeve, you're part of this? After everything we've been through?" Homelander questioned, at the very least, giving her his full attention as Butcher considered just running for it. Maybe if they split up, at least one of them would make it out, but...

Becca's corpse not five feet away stifled any thoughts of fleeing. He'd already lost her once, for nigh on ten years, he wasn't about to leave her body in the middle of the bleeding forest like some random body dump!

"Been through? What have we been through... that hasn't made me hate myself? The nights together where I felt like I was choking? The trail... of bodies whenever someone showed me too much attention? The plane... where you... we were ready to leave them to die? You're the worst thing that ever happened to me! Worse than the V, worse than breaking my arm, worse than anything! The greatest gift you could give me would be to just kill me, so I don't have to go around waiting for it to happen!" Maeve spat, a small trickle of blood oozing from the corner of her mouth, not to mention the constant pauses as she wheezed.

Whatever effect her words had on Homelander, or rebuke he was about to spew, Butcher noticed a small boy appear in the corner of his vision, crouched over Stormfront's body.

He just appeared, no sudden burst of wind from superspeed, no leaves floating from descending from the sky, nothing to show where he'd came from.

He was crouched over her, softly breathing as he brushed her hair aside, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers. Then, he spoke.

It was eerie, Butcher didn't notice until that very moment, everything silenced, no birds call overhead, no leaves rustling in the breeze, no trees shifting with life. Even Homelander and Maeve's argument stopped, breathing gone, Ryan's sobs erased. It was like everything just stopped, every sound, every bit of life just stopped, as if whatever this boy was about to say was of the highest importance, and nothing dared speak over him or ignore his words.

"John." Butcher had a front row seat as Homelander's face shifted from rage to confusion to fear.

"I-" The boy barely inclined his head, not enough to see his face, and his tone gave nothing away. But the fact that a split-second later, Homelander tore into the sky like a jet fighter on takeoff said more than enough, and even still the trees didn't shake nor the wind move.

"Nick-" Maeve tried to say, the boy holding Stormfront's body with all the care and grace of a lover. If he heard her word, Butcher couldn't tell, what he could tell was the boy turned slowly, still holding Stormfront, and just as Billy could've seen his face, he was gone.

In between two blinks, the so-called Nick was gone with the body, and Maeve fell to the ground, breathing heavily.

You landed gently on a balcony that didn't exist moments earlier but was quickly becoming a mainstay of your designated room. If any questioned the stonework rolling away like paper before a flame, they didn't to your face, and you had more important things to worry about anyways.

"Nick, where did you... oh Dear God." Tea said, stunned as you crossed the room in three quick strides, Klara's body never bobbling. The couch shifted into a soft bed, and you rested her body with kindness. The black leather and hideously charred flesh stood out against the pure white of the sheets.

"What-what happened?" Dr. Boulet asked softly from across the room, her words barely audible over Klara's feverish mutterings in German.

"There was an incident. I'm taking care of it, but I need you to do me a favor." You said, eyes never leaving Stormfront.

"Yes, of course, anything!" Tea stated; you were unable to tell the difference between her devotion and her insanity.

"Could you get those files we were talking about together? I'll need them shortly. Also, I'll be away for a while, so you may have to fill in for me, I trust no one else with my position and duties." You ordered as Tea nodded because why wouldn't she, the idea of argument against you in your current state was tantamount to treason.

"Also... while I'm in my meeting, could you please run a mockup with VX sample #28 with emphasis on the relevant markers?" You said, allowing your worry to seep into your voice as you didn't wait for her response, crouching down next to Klara.

"Frische Äpfel ... weißt du noch, wir waren so glücklich. Ich wollte nie, dass es aufhört." Klara muttered, the words shifting in your mind, a rare gift you neglected, restraining yourself when you had something to....

Klara whimpered, as you realized you were squeezing her hand too hard. She looked around, or at least as best she could in her condition. "Wo seid ihr hin? Chloe... Fredrick? Wo seid ihr? Bitte geht nicht, lasst mich nicht allein!" As difficult as it would be to beleive, you could see the tears rolling down Klara's cheek, her pain a deep emotional pain more than her physical one.

You wiped away the tears, her skin healing under your touch as you softly kissed her.

"Mein süßes Schnitzel, ich bin genau hier. Ich gehe nirgendwohin. Niemals! Ich werde nicht zulassen, dass dein Licht so einfach erlischt; ich werde nicht zulassen, dass die Dunkelheit dein Licht verschlingt. Niemals! Ich werde dein Herz mit Freude erfüllen, und du wirst nie wieder allein sein, meine kostbare Klara." You whispered into her mouth and felt the hot sting of your own tears as they dripped on her face, caught between confusion and smiling. Each little droplet seemed to wash away the burnt tissue, leaving untouched, new skin beneath.

"Mein Liebster, bist du das? Fredrick, bist du das?" She whispered, and you wanted to correct her, to say something very human-like, tinged with envy and spite. You wanted to correct her, that unlike Fredrick, you were an immortal being, and would never abandon her like her supposed beloved husband and daughter, but in the end, you softly sighed, nuzzling her cheek into her hand.

"Ich bin's... Klara, das experiment war heftig, du musst dich also ausruhen, okay? Ich bleibe direkt hier bei dir." You whispered, and any lingering darkness was shunted to the back of your mind as a smile split her face, small, happy sobs breaking through.

You returned her smile, gently closing her eyes as you wiped her face as if wiping away some dust, revealing the unblemished, pristine face beneath. If Tea questioned the arm that suddenly regrew to clasp your hand tightly, she didn't question it as she loomed beside you.

"The files you requested, Nick."

"I'm sorry sir, I tried to stop him!" Stan Edgar looked up from his desk to find Nick standing there, a small stack of folders in hand.

"I thought I was clear last time we spoke, that I didn't want to see you again?" Mr. Edgar stated, already returning his attention to the papers on his desk.

"Crystal, I simply did you the favor of completing any outstanding work I had. I'll be taking a prolonged 'sabbatical', and thought it was only fair to leverage my position. I'd hate for anyone to think I wasn't pulling my weight around here, or that I wasn't capable of upholding my position." Nick stated, already opening the first of several manilla folders, placing it squarely on Mr. Edgar's desk.

Rather than await questions, Nick kept speaking, "This is the theoretical formula for a new strain of Compound V, partially derived from the research being conducting at Sage Grove. In theory, it should temporarily bond with anyone, anywhere to give them powers. While they are weaker due to the lack of more effective V-cells, the much more effective bonding process is promising. I've taken to referring to it as Temp-V, but I'm sure Marketing is eager to come up with something else." Nick explained as Edgar looked over the papers.

Deciding to humor the boy, Stan met his eyes, "Have you been able to successfully synthesize a sample? Any successful test subjects?"

"No on both parts, I thought better of injecting lab rats, given the nature of the bonding process leads me to believe it would be even more effective on animals, and the idea of rats that could multiply or teleport worried me about containment. As for a sample, the formula is only semi-stable currently, leading me to believe it should be perfected before we start production, but I leave that in your capable hands." Nick exclaimed, standing at attention.

"It's decent, it'll need more work, but it's a decent start. What else do you have?" Mr. Edgar acquiesced.

Nick gave a short nod, placing the second folder down," I've taken the liberty of drawing up a rough cover story to deal with both my recent fuck-ups as well as the unfortunate revelation to the public regarding Stormfront. I'm sure you heard by now that when Starlight and Maeve confronted her, I interfered, allowing her to escape. She will be joining me on my trip, so I've made sure to cover our tracks on the way out. This ploy should allow us the freedom I desire, as well as appeasing the public, boosting The Seven's images, serve as marketing for the Dawn of the Seven, in short, it's a Godsend." Nick declared, eyes never blinking as he stared down at Mr. Edgar at his desk.

"As loathe as I am to admit, this will work. Are you sure you're capable of handling it though?" Stan requested.

"That's my entire job description sir, to handle it." Nick stated with a small smile.

"I've also taken the liberty of appointing my stand-in as head of R&D while I'm away. I'm aware usually you'd be in charge of such things but given she was already appointed by you as the lead of the Sage Grove Center, I assumed her credentials were well spoken for." Nick said, turning on his heel to leave.

"What are the other files?" Edgar requested as Nick spun around.

"Purely theoretical studies on the link between human genetics and Compound V. I'll be working on it while I'm away. In the meantime, I detailed my hypothesis, as well as several directions I hope to take this research in the future such as a test similar to those performed at hospitals for birth defects. If successful, I should be capable of telling which power the child would have if properly injected with Compound V. From there the company would know whether the juice is worth the squeeze, I believe is how the kids say nowadays, whether it would be worth the cost to turn them into a Supe. Beyond that, I currently developing a way to successfully transfer stable V-cells, that is to say powers, between people. Allowing us, the company, to stockpile powers within a viable candidate, or more easily give powers to an unpowered person. I've had one successful transfer so far, but progress is slower than I'd like." Nick spoke.

Before Mr. Edgar could even begin to process everything, the young boy had already made it to the door. Pausing only briefly as the door cracked, "And one more thing, Mr. Edgar, I trust you'll be able to keep the world from burning down while I'm away, but if you should find yourself incapable of managing, your secretary has my personal number." And then he was gone, not walking or even running, it was like he vanished between blinks.