#cant believe it took me almsot 3 montsh to write this

[plasticfangtastic]

Building Blocks. Ch. 2

A Butchlander fanfic

a/n: took a while but i managed to write something, updates will be slow but thank you for reading, not proofread I die with this as i ease myself into this again.

edit... forgot to add link to prev chap:

tags: slow burn, romance, dadlander, drama.

Sypnopsis: au where Becca stays with Butcher and passes Ryan as Billy's and is Billy who has to deal with Homelander after the death of his wife

Chapter 2

The woman stared at the vial with incredulity.

He hadn’t invited her in to talk simply handling her this vial on his driveway, naming it ‘Compound V’... something she had never heard before– before asking her to leave and keep low, he didn’t offer explanations simply asking for her hand in case he had to do disappear with Ryan on a short notice, whatever had happened it had him on edge and anxious to get her away from him as soon as possible either for his or her own safety she guessed. So she forgave his rudeness for whatever this was, had him hearing specters in the grass– It certainly wasn’t because he wanted to clean up the place for Ryan based on his appearance clean clothes but dirty hair, the smoke coming from the chimney was the only unusual thing she noted

“What’s on your mind?” She asks, unable to stand his troubled expression any longer.

“I don’t know if am gonna be in trouble.” He smiles weerily– but I’ll need to keep him distracted if I hope to get away from him.”

“Him?”

“Homelander…”

“What does he have to do with any of this?”

“You need to leave Mallory.”

She should’ve found a way to keep an eye on him, but she took the vial and left. Sensing a peculiar unease in his voice that didn’t often come from him.

“Is a bit warm to have the fireplace lit up.”

Butcher meet the Supe in his living room almost having a heart attack on the spot, he looked away trying to calm himself while hoping the Supe had been too self-absorbed to notice but Homelander had just chosen not to care, having more pressing matters in mind.

 Seeing he’d brought a gift box, Butcher studied his appearance, it look rigid yet desperate to appear approachable– boots had been polished and oiled, his gloves tucked under his arm, the flap of his suit down to reveal patriotic red, and his hair had been re-touched overnight there had been more brown on his undercut last time, now it had an almost strawberry tint blending into the browns to appear more natural if he had to take a guest, even brushed to the side lightly, Butcher scoffed finding it all quite funny that he would do all of this to look so artificial– no sterile instead of just looking like whatever his normal self was, perhaps all celebs were like this Butcher thought, yet he did found the present a bit charming.

“I thought I would bring him a present.” He said softly.

“I was burning some stuff…” He picks a couple cushions off the ground, kicking a dog’s toy to the side– what’s in the box?”

“A baseball glove– it’s my favorite sport. I want to share my passion, I guess.” 

Butcher examines the rather fancy wrapping of the box, there’s layers to it allowing decorations to be tucked in the sleeves, and for the life of him, he can’t find much tape on the sides of it, even the paper had a visible thickness to it that screamed excessive… that said ‘I want to impress you’ in cursive.

“I thought… well my assistant thought it would be a nice way to get to know each other” from one of the paper sleeves he pulls forward a set of tickets– there’s a Yankees’s game next week.”

“I don’t know” He has one look at the tickets– ‘Legends Suite’?? Those are great, no…”

“I thought of getting a private suite but I was discouraged”

Butcher took a deep breath trying to ignore the sparkles from the gift and back to business.

“Look… I… I don’t think you can just come in and tell him you’re his dad, his mom just died, he’s going thru a lot, mate.” He said softly, trying to sound as gentle as he could thinking of the burn scuff marks on his hardwood, hoping it wouldn’t be him, he had a handful of guns hidden across his living room but he knew that it wouldn’t do a thing against the blond– I… think we need to slow down”

“Work friends.”

“What?”

“You work for the CIA, I’m a superhero, we worked together on some cases and we are friends. I came today to give you my condolences and try to cheer you up, and then once Ryan is comfortable with me, I’ll do the honors.” He takes a step closer to Butcher pressing the tickets against his chest– eight guns all over the house… that’s a nice rifle in the closet… packs a hard punch. Try it, find out what’s gonna happen to you if you do.”

Butcher can only scowl at the man.

“We can work together, William. I want this to work out for the sake of my son… but don’t test me.”

“You’re not very good with people are you?”

“I’m a professional actually.” His eyes flash red for a brief moment but his charming smile never fades.

“Come back later. When we’re having dinner.”

“Why? He’s a minute away?”

Butcher walked towards the entrance standing by the red door to catch a glimpse of his in-law’s honda accord driving down the road as it emerged from the trees and shrubs.

He turned in a panic, to see Homelander had followed him half-way.

“You stay in the living room!” He screamed with panic.

Homelander paid attention to the man’s heart rate hoping he would just have a heart attack and die, but as the car moved closer he realized it wasn’t Butcher’s heart rate that he could hear drumming in his ears, but his own.

He wished he had a mirror and somebody to check his teeth, he wanted to make the perfect first impression, and as those light steps hopped off the honda, he could heard a voice in his head yelling, telling him to check his posture, to smile, to breathe calmly and by god to not curse in front of the child or cry, or blurt out something that could only scar him.

He hated the story they were gonna sell him, he wanted to run to him and tell him, he was his father, he wanted to rid of Butcher and take his place beside him, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t risk being rejected by him, when he had this man in his life already, a father that had loved him and protected him, and who at least hadn’t thrown him out, he had at least heard him– he almost wished Saunders was here, if she was he could simply seduced her and take them away from Butcher.

It would’ve been easy if Butcher was a woman, no pretense where the baby came from from the get go, he could’ve lowered himself to seduce the grieving widow if he had to.

As he smelled the anxiety rise from inside of him, he blushed at the thought.

“Feeling better, Billy?”

The older man whose eyes looked more tired than Butcher’s spoke first, after urging the kid to let his dog take a leak before coming inside the house.

He stared at his son-in-law, watching those swollen under eyes, he reeked of mouthwash and his clothes looked crinkled, nervously looking past him to catch a glimpse of Terror or Ryan.

“You really made yourself a fool. You weren’t the only one grieving and you had to make a scene in front of your kid, fucking shameless Billy!”

“I don’t need this, Wayne!” He squeezed his fists– thank you for looking after him, but mind your business.” He spat

“She was my daughter too.” He could’ve growled at him, he looked away with a huff before he could say anything else, both men trying to hold their rage and grief back, both eyes stinging as they looked at each other– feed the kid will ya? He didn’t wanna eat anything and barely got him to have some oats.”

“Thanks for taking care of him, I’ll get some chinese.”

His tone was overly polite and just as aggressive, both men didn’t wish to mingle any further, now without her they didn’t need to be friendly, just amiable enough to not push the other away.

Ryan emerged right on queue, he looked anxious as he let the old stubby dog pull on his leash, barking cheerfully, picking up speed as he saw his dad, his brown locks messy and his eyes just as exhausted as the ones on his pops, Ryan slowed down telling himself to keep smiling not ‘cuz he wanted to but for his father’s sake.

“Hi there scamp!” Butcher doesn’t hesitate taking him in his arms, lifting him up as if he was still a babe and light as a feather, squeezing in to make sure this is not but a dream, and from afar the younger man wished that was him.

Ryan said goodbye and it almost felt like it would be the last time he would see his grandfather something was off about his father, something that smelled wrong, his dog barged in wobbling straight to his food bowl barely noticing the supe in the living room, not that he could say the same about the boy.

His eyes glued themselves on that man, lifting his head, begging to be let go as he traded incredulous looks with his father.

“Dad, why is Homelander in our living room!?”

“I… we…”

“I’m a friend of your dad, from work!” His voice was forceful and rehearsed, irking Billy from the get-go– is nice to meet you, champ!”

Billy kept him close, never letting go of him, hand cemented on his son’s shoulder.

“You know Homelander!?” He said with a childish excitement.

“We met on a case. Top-secret.” he winks– he’s here to visit.” Butcher spits anxiously brushing his hair in a soothing motion.

“I heard about your mom… your dad has been such a good friend of mine, I just wanted to see if you— he was okay.” His voice is so fake it goes back to being believable– here I got you a present.”

The kid took a second to process it, looking back for permission before taking the ornate box into his hands. He waits for a nod before tearing that wrapper off, his excitement shortly dwindles as he finds the leather glove and white and red ball.

“Thought we could go watch a baseball game.”

He looks at the tickets only recognizing the Yankee’s as a big name team and nothing else. Homelander can almost taste his anxiety. This was not what he envisioned, it was completely wrong, voices yelling at him asking why the child wasn’t running after him or why he wasn’t jumping with excitement at his sight! He was the world’s greatest everything and the kid just seemed confused. The kid offered a polite smile and said thank you, taking his present and placing it neatly on the coffee table, as Homelander tried so hard… begging himself to not cry, that voice soothed him telling him he had missed the moment their fingers grazed each other.

“Can’t believe you know Homelander, dad.” the kid took his phone out– can we take a selfie none of my friends will ever believe me!”

That left a bitter taste on his tongue, his first interaction was no different from a paid one, he obliged putting his finest smile, his bitterness washed away as he felt those brown locks tickle his chin, as he took a scent of hypoallergenic detergent and dove soap, the little bit of sweat behind his ears, he could feel how warm his boy was, it was short lived but it lingered… etched on what little skin he’d touched, it soothed him, it made it so real, he could burst.

Ryan was his own… he wasn’t a figment of his imagination… he was flesh and blood, he looked healthy… he was tall and his teeth were straight but above all– he had his eyes and a chirpy voice.

“Mister Homelander needs to go back to work, he was just stopping by, right?”

“...William…”

“lol he called you William” he giggled– thanks for the present!”

“No problem, my pleasure. So do I pick you guys up for the game or meet you at the stadium?”

Butcher tensed up, knowing he really had no choice but to give him an answer, unable to kick him out.

“What do you think buddy? Wanna go check it out? They’re good seats.”

Ryan studied his father’s face seeing how forceful his calmness was, Ryan who only wanted to erase that drunken mess from the other day, looked towards the Supe and how his eyes glistened as they waited for a response.

“Why not!” He said cheerily– I’ve never been to a game before.”

“That’s settled! Now why don’t you go take this to your room and let me and ol’ Homelander have a chat.” Butcher could scream.

The kid isn’t oblivious to the sudden tension between them, brushing it off to bad timing.

“He looks a lot like you.”

Homelander comes back to earth as he’s spoken, giving Butcher his attention once more.

“He… goddammit Becca…” He sniffed, covering his face behind his palms, sinking on his couch as he processed it all– please leave… I’ll be there. I bet you won’t leave me the fuck alone otherwise.”

“I’m glad we are on the same page there, William.” His voice is oddly soft– he’s a lot taller than in the pictures… he doesn’t like baseball does he?”

“You might’ve well invited him to go watch Golf!”

“I can… I can get some other tickets… soccer, you guys have a passport right?”

“He doesn't, we never left the states and am not taking a bloody plane to go watch a match with a stranger.”

“I’m not a stranger! I’m Homelander, the most famous person in the whole world! Can get you a copy of my biography if ya like so you can get to know me.” He says with a sneer– can I stay for dinner then?”

Butcher can only describe his emotion as exasperated.

“I was joking…” He says with his prettiest smile showing his fangs as he pretended not to be hurt– see you next week.”

He lingers at the door, despite his eyes looking into the gardens Butcher can tell he’s listening to those behind him, he’s gone and all that remains is the wide open door.

The days go by excruciatingly fast, in a blink he’s in front of his bathroom mirror trimming his beard, it had been a while since he had bothered to keep tidy, ashamed to have looked this disheveled during his wife’s funeral, outside his bathroom door is Ryan who seems to be more well put than he is talking about wanting to check out some spots while they are in New York if they can after the game sounding so normal it scared him– kids were resilient creatures he said to himself, but he worried that the boy was pretending to be alright. The in-laws had visited, M.M. and his family had stopped by and even help clean up (more like Marvin had simply not stopped himself once he spotted a few too many dirty plates for his taste) he couldn’t say the same about himself until this moment. 

Mallory gave him a call and asked him ‘what was his fucking problem?’ whatever he had given her, she’d ended up being called to speak with not just the head of the CIA but the department of Homeland security, she was now without doubt being watched, told to keep quiet and some more.

Calling Butcher was dangerous hence the burner number, he couldn’t see a single suspicious car outside, it would be hard to hide when there was only miles of greenery.

He took a sip of whisky trying to wash away the anxiety of being washed, disconnecting the house phone just to feel safer.

Ryan made no mention about how low the radio volume was, about how quiet he was on the way there, trying not to think of the endless bickering and chatting between his parents, his mother’s scent lingering in the air, her dried coffee tumbler still on the cup holder, an abandoned sweater still in the backseat that filled the space with fading vanilla kisses, Ryan tries not to notice the ghostly whispers in the air, louder than the aircon and the quiet music.

He speaks very little, just grumbling about traffic and parking, complaining until he’s left the car wondering if the parking fee had been too steep for he had never bothered before.

“I can’t see him…” Ryan whispers tugging on Butcher’s shirt.

His cheeks were red knowing he had never once bothered to organize any of this, he simply showed up, not wanting to believe any of this was real, the tickets certainly looked real and the bustling crowd grew bigger and bigger, just a sea of branded clothes and loud people.

It feels hot and heavy as it presses on his shoulder, jolting awake as his body is pushed back effortlessly.

“William you came.” he sounds so happy it hurts.

He hadn’t expected to see him like this, taking a minute to process his appearance, the oversized baseball bomber jacket did very little to hide his thin frame, he expected the padded suit to have been merely ascending his physique not inventing it, Homelander mellow smile died quickly as he felt that man’s piercing gaze on him.

“Wasn’t sure ‘bout the traffic so we got here early, didn’t we?”

“I was gonna say my meeting ran late.”

Both men stared at each other awkwardly, waiting for the child’s response.

With a smile from the boy they both took that as their sign.

He watched from behind as Homelander stood closer and closer to Butcher, how he directed him across the building as if he knew every turn and nook of the stadium, how friendly he was being with him, how much attention he was giving him and his father.

For a game that he had no understanding of, he would admit it was nice that the supe was a walking wiki, both Ryan and Butcher expend most of the time listening to his explanations, it didn’t come off as somebody enamored with his voice, but as someone who wanted to share and they were happy to hear him, it made Homelander’s heart tingle as they asked him to explain what just happened before them or why people were booing upstairs.

Ryan and Butcher could only guess what was going on in his head but he was not scary at all.

he was nice.

“Thanks, I think the kid liked it.” he turned to him as they waited for Ryan to come out the toilet– it was good to get out of the house.”

Butcher didn’t want to admit he’d had a good time even if it was all gibberish to him.

“I got us some dinner reservations…”

“Normal people get full after some steak topped fries and fried chicken subs, sorry but I think we have to pass–

“You and me tomorrow.”

“Bit too early for a rebound.”

Homelander blushed, realizing how it had come out as.

Butcher tried to brush it off with a chuckle turning awkward as he realized this guy wasn’t his buddy so not used to his banter.

“Discussing Ryan! As if you’ve be so lucky.” Homelander fixed his jacket– I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow night. Also tell your friend Mallory she has nothing to worry about, just tell her not to be nosey.”

“I gather this Compound V shite is–

“Shhh... Hope you like Indian.”

“I’m english mate I sure luv me a tikka massala…”

“Good.”