𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦 | the boys 1

xxi. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘

~𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣'𝙨 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙖 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙏𝙚𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚'𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙖𝙨𝙞𝙨, 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙛𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨

From what she could gather over phone conversation, and despite the authorities now having a sample of Compound V, Vought were winning. A super terrorist was on loose, he had already taken out a full black ops unit. Just as M.M. and Butcher had earlier posited, the military needed supes to combat the villain identified as 'Naquib'. Just as she thought things were going their way again, another rug was swept from beneath The Boys' feet.

She sat with Hughie on one of the beds in the motel room, head in her hands as she watched Butcher pace. It was getting squished between the six of them in a room with two single beds, along with Kimiko locking the door to the bathroom behind her.

"Classified? What the fuck are you on about?" Butcher faced the window as he spoke with Raynor, pointing angrily at nothing in particular, "Vought are the ones that fucking created the cunt! I fucking well rescued the proof from a basement! She's sitting on the bloody bog as we speak!"

"That is not how I remembered that going down." Hughie told her with a grimace of remembrance. He was there when they first found Kimiko - he witnessed her moving like a spider monkey, unleashing Hell on those who had held her captive for that time.

Their gaze trailed onto M.M. as they switched places. He seemed just as frustrated as Butcher: "Listen, listen - Vought's manufacturing superhervillains, it's the story of the century! Don't you want a fucking Pulitzer?"

"What the fuck is a Pulitzer?"

"It's like an award-"

"Well, fuck you too then!"

Hughie's explaining was cut off by M.M.'s response to the other end of the line hanging up.

This was around on cue to Frenchie bursting through the front door, hood hiding his face which he threw off his head before sitting heavily on the bed opposite - becoming instantly engrossed in whatever he was doing on his laptop. He held up a small, paper bag towards her without looking up and Rowan jumped up to take it and inspect the contents. Food.

Fuck yes, Frenchie. You legend.

Rowan let out a pleasantly surprised hum. "Oh... thanks."

Frenchie looked over her deliberately eating so fast she would give herself heartburn and scoffed to himself in deep thought. He supposed she usually wolfed down whatever she got on impulse. He considered telling her, he knew what it was like to not know when or where the next bite was coming from, but the noise of the others put him off opening up. He could talk to her later.

"Susan, come on. There must be something we can do here, yeah?" Butcher reasoned. After a moment, he suddenly looked up with his eyes shrinking to suspicious slits, "Fugitives?"

Meanwhile, M.M. was knocking on the bathroom door. "Hello? This isn't a day-spa! Other people gotta' use the facilities!"

"Give Kimiko some fucking time by herself, she's just a girl." Rowan groaned and bounced back onto the pillows tiredly.

"She's not just a fucking girl, neither are you, I gotta' shit and I don't see you spending 20 fucking minutes in there!" He listed, raising a finger with each point. "I thought you were the moody fucking teenager who doesn't defend anyone!"