𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗡 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗥 | the boys 2

𝘹𝘷𝘪𝘪𝘪) 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒

"I HAVE THE PERFECT THING FOR THIS!"

"RO, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING NOW?!"

"WELL, HURRY THE FUCK UP, KIDDO!"

Hughie chased after the inconsolable Rowan, giggling so much she could hardly breathe as she raced through the basement into her and Butcher's bedroom, where the pair of single beds sat opposite each other. It didn't help that Frenchie and Billy were encouraging this so heavily. He followed to her bed, creasing his face slightly at her soaked t-shirt, hoodie and large, baggy shorts which hung just below her knees. Apparently, Butcher thought it incredibly ironic to pick her up a shirt with the 'Guns n' Roses' logo, with the additional 'Sweet Child O' Mine' below it. 

"What else could you possibly be hiding under there-"

"WHAT YA' GOT, YA LITTLE MONSTER?!"

He was yet again interrupted by the man yelling from their small kitchen as Rowan excitedly pounced onto her bed and hung upside down, reaching under to grab her old satchel, before tumbling onto the floor and scrambling back past him like the feral, little animal she transformed into, given the chance. 

"It's my stash, old man." She announced rather matter-of-factly, dumping the open bag onto the cluttered table. "Best stuff I've collected over the years." She panted, arching her spine slightly to dismiss the sting in her side. It still hurt like Hell, but it was certainly better than before.

"Get in, Kiddo." Butcher irresistibly smirked and nuggied her, grabbing her by the shoulders and rubbing his fist to the top of her head, since she had tied her wet hair into a small bun.

She began to rummage through her trinkets - pulling out a flip lighter with some sort of bible passage etched into one side, a magnum eagle (which she claimed was 'fucking adorable, just like her), some sort of tissue package, which under further inspection turned out to contain a human eyeball, a bottle of tablets containing fuck knows what, and so much more. 

"What is this, like Kim Kardashian's 'what's in my bag' on crack?" Hughie guessed flippantly - he was possibly the only remaining sense left in that basement.

"Bitch, you know how I feel about her!" Rowan corrected loudly.

"Oh, yeah... sorry." He shook his head. 

"Hughie? What's going on?" Annie's voice was literal music to his sweet, innocent ears. Finally, a mind capable of a shred of common sense. His second wind also happened to be a breath of fresh air. 

"They've lost their minds." He whimpered, cut off by Frenchie explaining yet another way one of his weapons could help in their mind-boggling plan to eliminate all of The Seven. Of course Rowan put stocks in this, it was all she ever wanted. 

"The RPG releases an electromagnetic pulse on impact - should cut through Stormfront's plasma bolts."

"How sure are you?" M.M. checked, even he had gotten wrapped up into this nonsensical plot.

"It's a guesstimate."

"So, that's Stormfront." Butcher narrated,"And thanks to Starlight, we know that Black Noir needs only a fuckin' tree nut." He recounted the tale she told of Hughie coming to save her from a facility in the tower, allowing Lamplighter to burn himself alive, but getting into even more trouble when Noir attacked her. Fortunately, Queen Maeve had come to the rescue to stuff and Almond Joy in his useless gob to cause an allergic reaction. "What about A-Train?"

"Fuck the cunt! Smear some shit on the road, twat'll go fucking flying." Rowan called out.

"And if your literally shit plan don't work?" Butcher bent over slightly.