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zepskies · 10 months

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And So It Goes - Part 15

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

Summary: As Madelyn Stillwell’s personal assistant, Helena Flores finds herself caught between protecting her job — and more importantly her life — or helping Billy Butcher bring down the supe who killed her best friend, Becca.

AN: This story lives!!! Lol I'll try to be more consistent about finishing the last few chapters on this story for those who are still following it.

ASIG Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,000 Warnings: 18+ for some spiciness, angst.

15: Schemes & Lies

Three months after Butcher and Helena each accepted job offers, they had developed a kind of rhythm. On days like today, when he was home and actually woke beside her in bed, their mornings could afford to be lazy.

She woke to his hand slipping under her shirt as he moved in closer behind her. His bare chest met her back, and she felt his warmth. She had to stifle a smile, though her eyes remained closed while another hand brushed her dark hair away from her neck and pressed a nipping kiss just under her ear. His beard prickled along her skin.

“You can stop pretending you’re asleep,” he rumbled.

A real smile crept across her face as his fingers danced tantalizingly between her breasts. She breathed in deep and hummed with a little stretch, as if she were just waking up.

She gave herself away by purposefully rubbing her ass against his growing length. It earned a grunt from him, followed by a chuckle.

“All right, you fucking asked for it,” said Butcher.

Helena giggled and turned her head to accept a kiss. But before the morning could well and truly kick off, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

They paused. She was the first to sigh and let her hand fall away from where it had begun to sift through his short hair.

“That’s you, babe,” she said.

“I know,” came his surly reply. Her amused smile returned while she watched him twist away to reach for the phone. He answered it without getting out of bed.

Predictably, it was Hughie. Supe Affairs had another case for him, Kimiko, and Frenchie. Some telekinetic supe was robbing stores without even entering the building.

By the time he hung up, Helena was ready for what her boyfriend was about to say when he sat up in bed and turned to her.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said.

She nodded and laid a hand on his chest. “Be safe.”

He briefly covered her hand and nodded. He hesitated for a moment, but he leaned over and pressed a parting kiss to her hairline.

Then, they each got out of bed to start the day. Butcher eventually left after freshening up and getting dressed, with a to-go mug filled with a fresh batch of Cuban coffee. When his car peeled out of the driveway, heading for the city, Helena saw that the coast was clear.

She got dressed for “work,” and she drove in the opposite direction—a couple of hours upstate. She sent a text each to both Grace and Ryan. By the time Helena got to the safe house, Ryan was already hanging out in the front yard waiting for her.

He ran up to her with a solid hug that almost bowled her over, but she accepted it with a laugh.

“Hey, buddy,” she greeted, carding her fingers warmly through his hair. “What’s up?”

“Nothin’ but the rent,” Ryan joked. She’d taught him that one when they were jamming out to ‘90s music while cooking dinner together last week.

“Damn right,” Helena grinned. She walked him inside, where Grace had been watching her charge from the front windows.

“I need to run some errands. Are you all right here with him?” Grace asked. Helena nodded.

“Yeah, for sure,” she replied, before looking over at Ryan. “What’re we doing today? Trivial Pursuit, Sudoku, a movie?”

Ryan thought about it. Then he gave a smile that was all Becca.

“All three?” he suggested, and also implored with those big blue eyes.

Helena chuckled. This time, she ruffled his hair. “Okay, Sudoku and a movie first. Let’s pick one out.”

An hour later, they were nearly done with Jurassic Park: The Lost World when Ryan turned to Helena on the couch. A big bowl of popcorn was nestled between them, and their Sudoku booklets were long ago filled out. She’d have to bring more challenging ones next time.

“Can I ask you something?” said Ryan.

Helena nodded and paused the movie. “Shoot.”

“If you’re…together, why don’t you just come with Billy when he visits?” he asked.

She sighed; she’d thought she went over this already. “It’s not because I don’t want him to know I’m hanging out with you. It’s because this is important to me. The work I do with Grace is also important to me, but he’d rather I do something else… Billy wants me to be safe, but sometimes, I have to take risks in order to make a difference. Just like he’s doing with Supe Affairs.”

This was her conviction, and she couldn’t feel guilty about what she was doing, only that she was lying to him.

“I don’t get it,” Ryan said, his brows furrowing. “Are you doing something wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I’m keeping it from him. But I don’t regret spending time with you, or working with Grace,” Helena replied. “Ryan, it’s natural to want to protect the people you care about. Like your mom. She made a lot of sacrifices to protect you, and that wasn’t wrong either.”

Ryan seemed to digest that, while Helena’s mind continued to churn. It had taken her a while to understand Becca’s choices, but if Helena could already feel this much of a desire to watch over Ryan and protect him, then she could only imagine what Becca had felt. Every day Helena spent with her best friend’s son was both a blessing and a curse: it reminded her of Becca, in the best and worst of ways.

She could also see him thinking, with that sad frown of his. It broke Helena’s heart, if she was honest. So she scooted over on the couch and tugged him into her side. He went willingly, resting against her when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and rubbed his back.

“But just so you know, I don’t come to see you because I have to,” she said. “I think we’ve got a good thing going here, don’t you?”

Ryan smiled, and he nodded before glancing up at her. “Can you tell me another story about her?”

“Hmm.” Helena searched through the archives of her brain. “Okay, we were in high school—”

A knock at the door interrupted her. Her entire body tensed.

“Ryan, go to your room. Don’t come out unless I tell you to, okay?” she said.

He opened his mouth to protest, but seeing her serious gaze, he nodded and got up to heed her instruction. Helena grabbed the gun Grace had told her was hidden under the coffee table, and cautiously she went to the front door and looked through the peephole.

She relaxed, expelling a breath. Fuck.

“It’s okay, Ryan!” she called back, and she opened the door to one Billy Butcher.

His dark brows rose a fraction, the surprise evident in his eyes. He nearly dropped the new Connect 4 game he held.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” he asked.

Helena sighed and pushed the door open. “Nice greeting. Come in.”

Butcher grasped her arm and leaned in. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ryan coming, but he still made a point to say lowly in her ear.

“You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, Hel.” His tone was cheeky, but it held an undercurrent of serious that she recognized well.

“We’ll hash it out at home. Don’t make a scene in front of Ryan,” she replied. She caught sight of Grace’s car pulling back into the driveway. “I’ll head out first.”

After saying a quick goodbye to Ryan with a hug (all the while ignoring Butcher’s eyes on her), Helena took her leave and started the long drive back home.

Butcher watched her go through the window. And when Grace entered the house, his grouch look let her know that they’d be having words.

He spent the better part of the afternoon catching up with Ryan and playing their new game. But when the kid finally went upstairs for a shower before the dinner Grace was cooking, Butcher cornered her in the kitchen.

“You’ve got some mighty fucking nerve, don’tcha?” he said.

Grace shot him a roll of her eyes. “Come off it, Butcher.”

“You should’ve fucking told me,” he said hotly. “You didn’t just let her back into the game. You pushed her right into the bloody center.”

Grace stopped stirring the spaghetti sauce to level him with a glare.

“Your actions have consequences,” she said coolly. “You could’ve left Helena well enough alone, and let her put Homelander, and all of Vought out of her mind. You are the one who can’t let go.”

Butcher later found Helena back at her house. She had showered and dressed into one of her old college shirts, faded and rung smaller in the wash, and some skimpy shorts. If she was trying to distract him, she’d have to work a bit harder than that. (Though the sight of her, bare legs and braless, did catch his eye.)

He turned off the TV while she was watching the latest episode of The Great British Bake Off and looked down on her with a face of stone. She curbed her inclination to spark off first.

“Look, I’m sorry I lied to you—”

“That’s the least of it,” Butcher snapped. “I don’t need you stepping into my business—”

“Excuse me,” she said tersely, and she pushed off the couch to meet his tense stance. “Ryan isn’t just your business. Becca was like a sister to me. You and I both know that she wanted her son taken care of.”

“Grace and I have it covered,” Butcher argued.

“Ryan would be lucky to see you once a month,” she countered. “And Grace can’t watch him every second of the day. Besides, he needs more than that. He needs as many friends and socialization as we can give him—”

“And what happens if Homelander finds him someday,” he reminded. “What the fuck happened to laying low?”

Helena made a sound of frustration and threw up her hands.

“Well, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I just can’t do some stupid fucking data entry job,” she said. “I’ve been in this too long. And apparently, so have you.”

Butcher didn’t have an answer for her.

So he left, and slammed the door behind him.

Helena didn’t know this, because Butcher screened his calls for the next two days. But he drove back into the city after seeing a text from Queen Maeve, of all people, on his latest burner phone.

He rented a by-the-hour motel for the express purpose of doing business. She had been giving him intel on rogue supes for months, acting as his undisclosed informant.

Tonight, she met him there with a few samples of Vought’s latest R&D project: V24. Supposedly, it gave someone superpowers for just 24 hours.

Why? Well, maybe it would give Butcher the edge he needed to end Homelander, once and for all.

But the pièce de resistance of that conversation was her latest tip: a weapon that could possibly kill Homelander, like it killed America’s first superhero.

Soldier Boy.

Helena was in a silently simmering rage when she got ahold of Frenchie over the phone. She paced the length of her living room.

“I’m only going to ask this once, and I don’t want any bullshit, Frenchie,” she said. “Where is he?”

The other man gave a nervous chuckle. “Why’re you trying so hard to find Monsieur Charcutier?”

She paused; no one on the team, not even M.M. knew that she and Butcher were together. She made up an excuse on the fly.

“It’s about Ryan,” she said. “I’ve been helping Grace with a few projects, including his safety detail.”

“Truth be told, I haven’t seen him in a few days,” Frenchie admitted. “But, the last time he was here, he mentioned something about finding a supe named Gunpowder.”

Gunpowder? The name rung a bell, but not much of one.

“Why?” she asked. Frenchie heaved a sigh, but he eventually told her about Butcher’s latest plan (obsession)—finding the weapon that might’ve killed Soldier Boy forty years ago.

Helena hung up with Frenchie and made yet another call.

“Yes?” Grace answered.

“What do you know about Soldier Boy’s death?” Helena asked, in a tone that said she had no time and patience for any runaround.

There was a pause on the line.

Soon enough, however, Grace’s shrewd voice returned.

“I know he’s dead,” she said. “Whatever Butcher’s after this time, he’s chasing a ghost story.”

Helena wanted to believe that was true, but she had spent her entire career reading people. Reading a room, hearing the unspoken in what they said. And she had an inkling that her new boss was lying her ass off.

Not even 24 hours after that conversation, Grace called Helena to ask for her help…and to drop a bomb.

“What the fuck? Victoria Neuman’s a supe?” she exclaimed, but soon covered her mouth, as if anyone could hear her in the privacy of her big empty house.

“It’s worse than that,” Grace sighed. She then explained that Hughie had seen her explode a man who knew her before she became Victoria Neuman. She’d been adopted from an orphanage as a child…by Stan Edgar, of all people.

Helena sat down hard on the living room couch and rubbed at her already aching head.

“And I fucking made her head of Supe Affairs,” Grace said. In her tone, Helena knew the woman was kicking herself.

“She knows where Ryan is?” Helena asked.

“Yes. I’ve already organized his relocation. Meet me at the following address, but don’t write it down.”

Helena had a better photographic memory than she did an audible one, but she still remembered the numbers and street to the letter.

As always, Ryan was happy to see her. He came bounding to her when she got out of her car. Grace came out as well.

This house was old and situated on the verge of forest, virtually in the middle of nowhere, and cold and dreary with large gray clouds looming above.

“What’s the plan?” Helena asked Grace, after the three of them headed inside. Ryan showed Helena where the kitchen was so she could start making some tea; she needed something to calm her nerves.

“This is safe, for now, but we’ll need to keep moving,” said Grace. “It’s up to you whether you want to come with us.”

The unspoken second choice was staying at home, where Helena was most likely safer. At this point, if she were to keep visiting Grace and Ryan, she could potentially put his safety in jeopardy.

They had to assume Victoria had told Stan Edgar what she knew about Ryan’s first safe house. The fact that Homelander hadn’t come barging in for a year told them that either Victoria or Stan had kept the information to themselves (a small blessing). But Ryan had been even more exposed than they thought.

Helena watched Ryan carefully pour the hot water from the kettle into each of the mugs. She spoke lowly with Grace, even though they both knew that the child’s superior hearing would likely pick up on whatever they said.

“I don’t want to leave him,” Helena whispered.

“You have to think of what’s best for him,” Grace replied.

“I am,” Helena returned. “He needs us. All of us. Even Billy.”

Especially Billy, she thought.

Helena and Grace continued to go over the pros and cons of her continuing to make her visits to Ryan, but Helena was surprised when Grace answered a text with a frustrated sigh.

“Butcher’s coming,” she said.

“What? Now?” Helena said. Both hope and anger trilled through her. She hadn’t heard from him in a week, and now he was swooping in?

Well, she doubted he knew she would be here, to be fair.

An hour or so later, she was proven right. Butcher drove up with Kimiko, Hughie (who strangely had his right arm in a cast), and even M.M. They were just as surprised to see Helena, though they watched the scene unfolding between her and Butcher as they stared at one another with tension.

It didn’t break, even when Ryan came to all but tackle Butcher with a hug.

“Ooh,” Butcher grunted, hiding a frisson of pain as he hugged the kid back. “Easy does it, lad. Bloody death grip you got there.”

Ryan backed off slightly with concern. He’d noticed the same thing Helena did, apparently.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Butcher said with an easy smile. He patted the kid’s shoulder and began to lead him inside. Though his eyes met Helena’s as he passed her. They both knew they didn’t want to make a scene in front of Ryan.

But pulled him aside into the hall before he could have whatever tete-a-tete he wanted to have with Grace. Helena smacked him on the chest, making him flinch.

“Ey!” he protested, but she leveled a finger at him.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” Helena hissed. “You go radio silence on me for a week. I have to find out from Frenchie about your latest batshit crazy fucking scheme to end Homelander.”

Butcher’s teeth clenched in frustration, but he grasped her arm gently.

“Look, we can hash this out all you want later. But we’ve both got some fucking work to do here,” he said.

Helena shrugged his hand off her arm. “That’s no apology. Until you’re ready for that, I guess we have nothing to discuss.”

She turned on her heel and went into the room where Grace and the others were waiting, save for Kimiko, who was keeping an eye on Ryan in the backyard.

Butcher sighed and followed Helena into the large study. Helena stood by Grace with her arms crossed. Hughie stood opposite with M.M., who looked between Butcher and Helena shrewdly.

“Aw, hell nah,” he said.

Hughie’s brows drew together in confusion. “What?”

M.M. sighed and cast a finger between the simmering Helena and the tense shoulders of Butcher.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “How long’ve you two been fucking?”

Helena’s eyes widened, while Butcher’s went heavenward.

“Here we fuckin’ go,” he muttered.

“It’s not,” Helena tried to speak, with stops and false starts that had her blushing. “It’s not exactly like that.”

M.M. tilted his head and crossed his arms. “Yeah? What’s it like?”

“For Christ’s sake,” Butcher said.

“Whoa, what?” Hughie interjected.

“Can we please just,” Grace tried, but Helena finally raised her voice to cut over everyone.

“It’s a thing, okay! We’re together,” she said, though she sent Butcher a glare. “Though at the moment, that remains to be seen.”

A pregnant pause filled the room.

Hughie managed to utter, “Uh...how long’s this been going on?”

Helena sighed. “About a year.”

M.M. blinked in surprise, though it didn’t shock him to see that Grace clearly knew. He shook his head.

“Interesting.”

“Right, can we get back to the matter at hand?” Grace said. “Victoria Neuman. I’d very much like to hear the plan to eliminate her.”

“Well, that depends,” Butcher said. His hands slid into his pockets as he turned to her. “On what you can tell us about your holiday, down in Nicaragua.”

What? Helena thought. She turned to Grace with a frown.

“I’ve never been to Nicaragua,” said the agent.

“Oh really? ‘Cause a little birdy told me you were Payback’s case officer down there, on a classified job that Soldier Boy never came back from.”

The other woman tried to deny she knew anything about what Butcher was talking about…but after he threatened to expose all of her contacts and agents in the CIA, both active and inactive. Helena looked at Butcher incredulously, wondering where his soul had gone to.

He avoided her gaze and remained steady on Grace. This was how he got results.

“It was part of Operation Charly,” Grace eventually admitted, though through her disgust at Butcher.

To Helena’s further surprise, Grace admitted to participating in a secret CIA operation in 1984 for the Cold War efforts against the Russians. In which the CIA trafficked cocaine into the U.S. to fund the government’s efforts.

And Vought American, led by a young Stan Edgar, leveraged enough political power to try partnering their team of supes with American soldiers. Their team was Payback, led by Soldier Boy, Vought’s first superhero.

Helena had been a records keeper, among other things. She knew Soldier Boy’s story all too well. His backstory had been carefully crafted: a “rags to riches” story that framed a poor young kid from hard knocks into taking the world’s first super serum in 1944. He’d led his own unit in World War II, fighting against the Nazis and for the American dream.

His entire career had been tickertape parades, shitty movies, and even a few cheesy music videos that had been chart toppers in the ‘70s and ‘80s. Helena had seen them all. And she’d come to learn, just as well, that they’d been completely fabricated.

Now, she had to listen to Grace tell her story. About how the cast of Payback had fucked up the entire mission.

But Butcher paused her story halfway through, looking pale and almost green as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom. Helena frowned. She held a waiting hand up at Grace and went to follow him.

She heard the flush of a toilet, more than once, after the sounds of his upheaval. She was leaning against the wall, arms crossed when Butcher finally emerged. He stopped short, meeting her gaze. In his, she saw that his eyes were red and glossy. His skin was ashen and dewy with sweat. She could faintly smell chemicals on him. Her head tilted.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“‘M fine, Hel.”

“Nope. Try again.” She stepped into his orbit and looked up at his face. This didn’t look like a bad burrito or a stomach bug. This looked worse. Like withdrawal. “Oh my God. Are you on something?”

Butcher looked away from her. She grasped his trench coat and made him look at her.

“What the hell is going on with you? Jesus, Billy. Talk to me,” she pleaded. “When were you going to tell me about this Soldier Boy thing?”

Again, he didn’t want to seem to answer her. Her lips pursed.

“Look, I know you’ve got M.M. and the rest of the guys. But weren’t you and I in this together?” she asked.

Butcher made the mistake of looking into her eyes. There, he couldn’t lie.

“It’s temp. V. Or uh…V24,” he said.

Helena’s eyes went wide as her mouth fell open. “Oh my fucking…Billy.”

V24 was the last R&D project she heard about before she quit her job at Vought. She knew all too well what it was.

“Finally gives me the chance to level the fucking playing field,” he said. She grasped at his shirt.

“How the fuck did you get that? When I left, it was still in preliminary testing,” she said.

“Well, the mockups are a bit hairy, but it gets the fucking job done,” he said.

She let out an incredulous scoff, resting a hand on his pale cheek. “Clearly it isn’t without side effects.”

Butcher’s face was grim. “Small price to pay.”

Helena paused. Her expression dimmed from concern to shock, and then sadness. Her hand slowly fell from his cheek.

“You’re not going to stop,” she said shakily. “This vendetta you have against Homelander. You’re not gonna stop until you’re dead. Which means you’re giving up on us. On everything we have…or would’ve had.”

“Hel,” Butcher sighed. He tried to hold her, but she slipped away from his would-be embrace.

She shook her head, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“You don’t really love me,” Helena realized, her lower lip trembling. “Either that, or you hate Homelander more.”

She didn’t give him a chance to touch her again. She walked away from him, down the hall and back into the room where Grace and the others were waiting. She scrubbed at her tears along the way.

Grace’s story culminated in Swatto giving away the CIA’s position. The cartel they were trying to avoid brought Russian special forces in as their allies.

A mass shootout ensued, in which all of Grace’s unit were massacred, and Soldier Boy had somehow been killed, his body taken far beyond the Iron Wall, along with whatever mystery weapon that could possibly kill an invulnerable supe.

Helena couldn’t help but see Grace in a new, more sour light. Yes, she’d been the sole survivor of a mass grave. But she had led an operation that had ruined the lives of thousands.

When Grace asked to speak to Butcher alone for a moment, Helena easily agreed. She needed a break from both of them. She left the room in disgust and joined M.M. on the porch outside. They watched Hughie join Kimiko in playing Connect 4 with Ryan.

“I’m sorry,” M.M. said. It earned her curious gaze. “I can’t even judge you for hooking up with Butcher, because I’m here now too.”

She smiled faintly. Though a few minutes later, she frowned with a jolt as the front door slammed open. Out came Butcher, roiling mad. Grace was on his heels.

“What happened?” Hughie asked. He and Kimiko walked over with Ryan.

“We’re off,” Butcher snapped. He headed for his car without even looking their way. Ryan ran over to meet him.

“Butcher, wait up! Where-where’re you going?” he asked.

“The city,” Butcher spoke shortly. Helena got up to follow them. Worry churned in her gut, for both of them.

“When will I see you again?” asked Ryan.

“You won’t. Ain’t safe for you.” Butcher’s words were clipped, and none too gentle.

“Billy,” Helena tried to stop him. It took Ryan pushing at the man, showing a fraction of his super strength. It was clearly instinctual, born of desperation. But Helena saw the hint of wariness behind Butcher’s eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Ryan asked. Pleaded really, for an explanation, for some compassion. Butcher had seemed to be rung dry.

“I got to go,” he said.

That was when Ryan grabbed the man’s arm, with intentional strength. He huffed and puffed like he was on the verge of losing control.

“Ryan,” Helena warned, with worry in her eyes. She stepped up behind Butcher, who held out a protective hand against her coming closer.

“Ryan, let go,” Butcher said, with authority.

“No! You said you’d always watch out for me,” Ryan cried. “You promised!”

Butcher repeated himself, more firm, but still, the kid didn’t relent.

“I won’t let you!”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to look at ya, after what you done to my Becca. Did you ever think of that?” Butcher snapped.

Helena gaped. Her shock was almost as visceral as Ryan’s dismay. He let go of Butcher with tears already welling up in his eyes.

His eyes that flashed red.

Helena gasped this time. It led Butcher to subtly shift his stance, so he was standing directly in front of her. He already regretted his words, but his anger and his pride wouldn’t allow him to do anything more than watch for what Ryan would do.

With a blink, the red haze was gone, but he reached for the chain of the Christopher’s medal around his neck and yanked it off. He threw it at Butcher’s feet.

“I hate you,” he said, in a trembling voice. He ran back into the house.

Butcher turned around to find that Helena also had tears unshed in her eyes. She trembled with both shock and a thread of wary fear. Before he could ask if she was all right, she looked up at him like she didn’t know him.

“How could you do that?” she asked. “He’s just a kid, Billy!”

He glanced down at the ground. His face told her that he knew she was right, but out of his mouth came more resigned assholery.

“Yeah, well, what else is fucking new,” he said. Helena scoffed angrily.

“You’re more than this,” she said. “I don’t care what the hell Grace told you. You don’t have to be this man.”

He tilted his head at her.

“And what would you have me be? Prince bloody fucking Charming?” Butcher shot back. “You can babysit that kid all you want, but you ain’t his fuckin’ mum! You ain’t Becca.”

A shaking breath fell from Helena’s lips. She flinched as if he’d slapped her.

Butcher saw it all play out across her face: shock, dismay, and deep hurt. Her tears welled up once more and slid down her cheeks. Behind her, he saw M.M., Grace, Hughie, and Kimiko. All of them saw a monster in human clothing.

Rather than torture himself further by staring at her face, he looked away. And like a coward, he began to turn from her to head for his car.

“If you walk away from me, I’m done,” Helena said. She watched him halt in his steps. “I’ll be fucking done with you for real.”

His steps halted for a moment.

She saw that it wasn’t enough to hold him, however. Her tears continued to fall as she watched him walk away from her, and she glared at his back all the while.

She accepted murmured apologies from M.M. and Hughie, and a sad look from Kimiko as they left to continue their mission: their hunt for Soldier Boy.

Helena felt rooted to where she stood, until Grace laid a hand on her shoulder.

Both women eventually turned back to the house. Helena wiped at her tears and went upstairs to find Ryan’s door. She leaned against it and let out a breath.

“You want to talk?” she offered.

“Leave me alone!” came the angry reply. But she knew he was crying, that his heart was shattered.

She knew the feeling.

AN: 😬 Sorry for ending on angst, but we're headed into the meat of S3 now...

Next Time:

Butcher makes a deal, and Helena finally meets Soldier Boy! 😜

Soldier Boy distracted Helena from her thoughts, however, when he reached out to thumb at her chin, raising her face up to his.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked. His head quirked slightly.

“Helena.” She guided his hand away with her own, but in one smooth motion, he’d taken her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“The face that launched a thousand ships,” he teased. “I like it.”

“That was Helen,” she replied, subtly tugging her hand out of his. “You know, of Troy.”

But the bitch of the bunch was, she was actually blushing.

Keep Reading: PART 16

The Boys Masterlist

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