"I knew you were going to go with what your conscience told you, Senator. Thank you. Goodbye."
Madelyn hung up. She'd gone low to secure the military contract, but she did what she had to do. She turned to face Homelander, who was sitting on the couch, looking unimpressed.
"One vote to go," Stillwell said, sitting next to him. "Most of these senators are afraid of the Leviathan and the communist threat. It made things much easier."
"The Leviathan. Is that what we call him now?" Homelander asked, his voice flat.
"Don't be upset. You know he's afraid of you. That's why he had to ambush you, and that's why he disappeared. He knows if you ever see him again, you'll crush every bone in his body."
"That's why I'm so frustrated," Homelander said. He shifted his weight, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "By the way, do you remember that marketing girl?"
"what"? Stillwell was shocked about the abrupt change of subject" Ashely well I had to fire her she lied and hid things from us leading into this mess"
"No, no. From seven or eight years ago" Homelander cut her off. "Becca."
"Becca?"
"Yes. Becca Butcher."
Stillwell's face went rigid. Homelander noticed it immediately, the frozen expression, the spike in her heartbeat, the sudden scent of adrenaline leaking into the room.
"What about her?" she asked, her voice a thin layer of forced calm.
"Well, she's missing," Homelander said, studying her expression and wondering, Why is she lying to me about this now?
"What do you mean, missing?"
"I mean missing as in 'missing and presumed dead,'" Homelander said.
"Wow."
"Yeah. I looked through her file. Police think it was a suicide. It seems her husband was really riled up. William Butcher."
"Am I supposed to know his name?" Stillwell asked.
"No, not specifically. But I just wonder if you know what happened to her."
"No," Stillwell said. Another lie. "I assumed she just quit."
"Just quit?" Homelander repeated.
"Is there any particular reason you're asking all these questions?"
"No, no. I'm just curious." He stood up, smoothing his cape.
"You know, I was thinking maybe I could get Maria to stay late with the baby," Stillwell said, her voice desperate to regain control of the room. "Maybe we can order food. Catch up. Just you and me."
"You know, that sounds amazing," Homelander said, looking at her with eyes that saw right through the skin. "But you go be a mommy."
With that, Homelander got up and left.
Aldrich looked around the sprawling estate as he accompanied his new father to feed the dogs. He was never one to value luxury, but experiencing it after being homeless was a life-changer. The food, the comfort, the privacy, it was all amazing.
"Erasmus, come here. Don't be scared," Vogelbaum called from inside the cage.
Aldrich had made up memories in the old man's mind: Erasmus, the secret experiment that bordered on being a blood son. The gentle, kind-hearted child Vogelbaum had always wanted.
Erasmus entered the cage where the German Shepherds were running. He knelt, playing with the dogs.
"Here you go."
He played with the little dogs but felt nothing other than annoyance. "Why didn't you ever name them, Father?"
"I already told you why. I don't want to get attached to my subjects."
"So why did you get attached to me? Is it just a new method you're practicing?"
Vogelbaum stopped playing with the dog and looked at Erasmus. "You're not a subject. And while you're not my son. You are my son. I didn't want to get attached to you, but I did. You're kind. You're compassionate. I have never even seen you hurt a fly."
"Then why won't you let me out of the estate? I have never seen the outside."
"You have been out."
"I'm not talking about Oliver walking me out for a stroll," Erasmus said, his blue eyes affectionate as he looked at his aging father. "I'm talking about going out with you."
"Erasmus, I'm old and I don't have much time left. We already talked about this. You know what to do, right?"
"Yes, Father. You've told me a thousand times," Erasmus said, his voice flat and practiced. "Fly north. Never stop until I'm safe. But you never told me what 'safe' is, or why I should even fly away."
Vogelbaum let out a long, wet sigh, staring at the golden-haired boy as if he were a miracle he didn't deserve. "You will understand later."
"Oh, not with the riddles again," Erasmus said, rolling his eyes. "Do all old men start speaking in riddles when they get older? It's very repetitive."
Vogelbaum gave a weak, sad smile. "Maybe. Or maybe we just realize that some things can't be taught, Erasmus. They have to be felt."
"Felt," Erasmus repeated. "I'll try to remember that, Father. So, does that mean I get to name them now?"
Vogelbaum sighed, a small smile finally reaching his tired eyes. "You always had your way with words."
"I learned from the best," Erasmus said, his voice flat but perfectly pitched to sound like a compliment.
"Fine. You can name them."
Thank you. Let's see... obviously, one of them will be Cerberus. The second is Erebus. and the third one, the most handsome, the strongest, the oldest, will be Erasmus."
Vogelbaum let out a dry chuckle. "They all look exactly the same. And you won't even name one after your old man?"
Erasmus looked at him. "Name my dog Vogelbaum? What kind of name is that?"